Chapter 15 Ashton
ASHTON
‘Bentley James’ how the fuck did Dove know Bentley James and what had he done that made her fear him.
He didn’t deserve her fear, but it seemed he had it long before I came along, and that thought pissed me off. Her fear belonged to me, her tears, her desire, her soul.
She was fucking mine.
The rage claws through me like hot coals. The more I think of him invading her dreams, the more the anger coils deep inside of me.
I don’t even hesitate to send the email:
To: Hollow Hills Asylum
From: Ashton Riley ceo
Message: I need everything you have on ‘Bentley James’ police reports, psych evaluations, his whole report for the last eight years.
There had to be something in his reports that would tell me how Dove would have crossed paths with the maniac.
I didn’t usually get involved in the Asylum, they knew I was in charge, that I owned that establishment thanks to the great Victor Riley, passed down through the generations, but I preferred to be a silent partner.
I would have stayed silent too. If she hadn’t acted like her world had disintegrated in her sleep, someone else haunted my little bird, and I wanted to know why.
I wait for a response back but it doesn’t come. I can feel the rage seeping into my veins. The darkness claws through me like it’s begging to come out. I look up at the ceiling, the darkness slowly overtaking my body. “I’m coming, little bird.”
I grab the small black case and walk up the stairs. She’s not sleeping. She looks at me with a smirk on her lips, but as I gaze at her, that smirk slowly slips.
Can she see the darkness that has seeped into my soul? Can she see that I need her to know that she’s fucking mine?
She tries to edge away from me as I make my way towards her, but there was going to be no escape for my little bird.
Another man haunted her dreams, another man was on her mind. I didn’t care that he was the source of her pain. If she wanted pain, I’d give her fucking pain.
I perched on the bed next to her. She tries to move, but the chains she’s shackled to don’t allow her to move very far. I can see the steel cuffs digging into her wrists. They are red and bruised. Another reminder of who she belongs to—me.
I don’t say a word, but I hear her screaming my name. She’s scared. I can see it in her eyes. She should be scared.
I grab her ankles, pulling her down the bed, shackling her ankles to chains that are fitted to the bottom of the cast iron bed. Her legs are spread wide, just for me because I owned her fucking body. Every part of her belonged to me and soon enough I’d invade her mind, too.
“Ashton, what are you doing?” She whispers. I ignore her as I unzip the small black case, smiling at the contents within.
The tattoo gun gleams in my hand, a compact, brutal piece of machinery built for precision and pain.
Its dark, polished steel catches the dim light, giving it a menacing glint.
The handle is cool and heavy, fitting snugly into my grip as I ready the needles with practiced care.
Fine coils of wire wrap around the center, tightly wound, humming with a latent energy that promises a sting to the skin.
At the tip, the needles sit poised, a cluster of microscopic points designed to puncture, to embed ink beneath her skin one painful, permanent dot at a time.
The gun buzzes to life, a low, ominous sound filling the room, echoing in the silence, rising and falling in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Watching her, bound and motionless, as I dip the needle in dark ink, ink meant to etch its mark on her body, my claim—proof she’ll carry forever.
With a steady hand, I bring the tattoo gun closer, inches from her skin, the sound rising, vibrating with anticipation.
My gaze flickers between the tattoo gun and Dove’s face, studying every flicker of fear in her eyes, every twitch of her muscles as the needle draws closer.
Relishing the sight; this is a mark that will stay with her, a reminder of me that she can’t shed.
No amount of time or distance will erase it.
The gun buzzes louder as I climb between her legs, her legs trembling beneath my touch. Grabbing the dry cloth, I mop up the wetness from her glistening pussy lips, opening her up like a precious little flower and pressing the needle against her skin.
Dove inhales sharply, her wrists tugging against the bindings.
Her eyes flash with defiance, but I know that look will soon melt into something else—pain, surrender.
My fingers are firm as I begin the first line, dragging the ink into her skin, carving ‘Ashton’ into her left pussy flap, carving it slow and deliberate, savoring every wince, every sharp breath.
Then spreading her wide once more as I etch the words ‘Riley’ on her right pussy flap. The sharp intake of breath she makes only makes this act that much more delicious.
“Hold on, little bird, I’m not done yet.” Her eyes widen and tears break out of the corners of her eyes and slip down her innocent little face.
Pressing the needle to her clit, I etch a heart and watch as the pain distorts on her face, sharp gasps fall from her lips and I watch her pussy glisten once more.
Oh, she was enjoying this.
I drag the needle across her skin, scratching the needle purposefully against her clit, watching her breathing become fast as I colour that heart as black as my soul.
“There we go,” I murmur, my voice low, almost soothing, though there’s nothing soft about my touch. “Just breathe, little bird. You’ll thank me for this one day.”
Dove’s breath comes in ragged bursts as I continue, each stroke of the needle etching my claim deeper into her flesh.
Her skin reddens under my hand, but I don’t relent, moving the needle with a calculated precision that makes each mark exact, unmistakable.
I’m branding her, a permanent reminder that no part of her—her thoughts, her dreams, her body—can escape me.
This tattoo is my claim. A piece of myself stamped into her very being.
When I’m finished, I lean back, admiring the ink, the proof of my possession marked on her skin. My gaze drifts up to her face, meeting her wide, defiant eyes, and I smirk, knowing that now a part of myself is engraved on her forever.
“Do you know what this means?” I ask her. She defiantly glares at me. “It means that every time a cock goes between these pretty legs.” I squeeze her thighs and she moans. “It will only be my cock. This is my pussy and I’m the only one who will fuck it. Do you understand?”
She scowls at me once more and rolls her eyes, testing me like she thinks this is a fucking game.
“Are you sore, baby?”
“Yes, it stings.” She whispers.
“Good,” her brow raises in response. “Because right now, I want to fucking hurt you. I want it to hurt and then maybe you’ll understand who you fucking belong to.” I growl.
I discard my clothes and watch the fear slide across her pretty eyes. Her eyes flutter as they roam down my body. Her pussy glistens with every inch of her eyes, pulling me in, even sore and in pain. Her pussy wants this.
Sliding across her body, I can feel her pulse quicken beneath my touch, every part of her was fucking made for me and now she was going to feel exactly what it felt like to be owned, I slowly drag my hard cock between her legs and she gasps.
She fucking gasps. Sliding up and down her sore pussy lips, the tears crawl down her face. “It hurts.” She cries out.
“Well, it’s not supposed to tickle, now is it, darling.” I whisper into her skin as I keep massaging her pussy with my cock, getting harder with each wince of pain she gives me.
She pulls on her restraints and I see faint drops of blood where she’s cut her wrists with the steel cuffs. “You don’t want to hurt me.”
“Are you sure about that, little bird?” I smirk. Pressing harder against the fresh branding I’d given her pussy, she cries out and shakes her head.
Sliding my cock further down her pussy, I slide my hand across her mouth as I roughly enter her. I can hear her mumbling beneath my hand as I penetrate her to the hilt. Her pussy grips me like a vice and a sweet moan crawls from my throat. Fuck, she felt like sunshine.
Pushing deeper inside of her, I bite her neck as I feel her pussy grip me ever so fucking tightly, her juices are running all over me as my hips bang against hers, watching her pretty little face her eyes roll, gripping her throat her head tilts back, pushing her further over the edge until I feel her legs tremble beneath me, a smile crawls across my face as feel my little bird release all her delicious desire over my cock.
Her breathing changes, her eyes flitting beneath close lids. I keep massaging her pussy with my cock until the desire curls within me, causing my body to jolt faster and harder, chasing my own release.
Leaning down so I’m inches away from her ear. “Little bird,” I gasp as I paint her walls with my cum. Her eyes flutter, and I know she’s chasing another orgasm as I spasm deep within her. “I’ll be the only monster in your life now.”