Chapter 31
Ophelia. Now.
It rains for days.
Aleena and the kids are safely at our parents’ house. Cisco was apparently picked up by the cops and he’s been detained since—good riddance.
Which means: I’m back in the comfort of my own apartment, alone with my thoughts, trying to make sense of the past couple of days.
I watch the rain patter down through the patchy curtains in my bedroom.
The rain makes me cozy. Sleepy.
Horny.
My phone buzzes. It’s Dove.
[Text: Dove]
It’s raining too hard to come home.
[Text: Dove]
Staying at Dorian’s tonight.
[Text: Dove]
Pray for me.
She doesn’t mean pray for me because Dorian is going to do wonderfully unspeakable things to her.
She means pray for me because Dorian’s cat hates her.
Despite the fact that he has an objectively nicer apartment and he lives alone, she’s only stayed over at his place a handful of times.
The cat is wildly possessive of Dorian. The last time she stayed over, Behemoth threw up on her pillow just to get her out the door.
[Text: Ophelia]
Have you tried catnip?
[Text: Dove]
It just makes Dorian sneeze :/
[Text: Ophelia]
FOR THE CAT.
[Text: Dove]
Oh. I come bearing new cat toys. Fingers crossed!
[Text: Ophelia]
I have faith in you girl
[Text: Ophelia]
You can win over any beast. furry or not
[Text: Dove]
Thanks :)
[Text: Dove]
Don’t text him btw.
[Text: Ophelia]
Who?
[Text: Dove]
You know who. Don’t.
[Text: Ophelia]
Wasn’t even thinking of it
Dove sends over a GIF of a suspicious looking gopher.
The gopher is correct. It’s a lie, and we both know it.
Dove and Dorian are out for the night.
It’s raining, which automatically makes me horny for reasons I can’t explain.
And…I can’t stop thinking about him.
It probably doesn’t help that I haven’t had an orgasm in…
way too long now. My vibrator sits uselessly on the dresser beside me.
No matter how hard I try…and I’ve tried…
I can’t reach an orgasm without Phantom’s permission.
I can hit the edge and ride it, but then my body locks up, waiting for that single word. Give.
He trained me too well, and now, I’m having trouble un-training my brain.
Now, if I could just call him up…he’s a doctor, after all. Surely, he understands a woman has to taper off certain habits?
Just the thought of him growling that word in my ear…
Fuck it.
Dove will forgive me. I send:
[Text: Ophelia]
hey. Just wanted to thank you again for Hotel Seeker.
[Text: Phantom]
They’re welcome anytime.
[Text: Phantom]
Any word on Cisco?
[Text: Ophelia]
He’s out of the picture for now.
[Text: Phantom]
Good to hear.
I hesitate.
I stroke my thumb over the screen, debating my next move.
[Text: Ophelia]
What are you doing right now?
[Text: Phantom]
Talking to you.
I grin. Asshole.
Then I shoot my shot.
[Text: Ophelia]
Come over.
It’s his turn to hesitate.
Is our moment at the leather bench looping over and over in his head, the same way it’s looping in mine?
[Text: Phantom]
Don’t tease me.
[Text: Ophelia]
I’m not.
[Text: Ophelia]
I’m inviting.
Another pause from him. Then—
[Text: Phantom]
Then do it properly.
My heart skips a beat. My nipples get tight underneath my gown.
[Text: Ophelia]
Please come over, Sir.
There. Done. My cards are on the table and my heart is banging around in my rib cage.
Minutes pass. Nothing from him.
He probably won’t respond. This is what we do. I get vulnerable and he gets cold. He’ll overthink and ghost and I won’t hear from him for days…
I hear sirens in the distance.
No, wait.
Sirens getting closer.
He did not…
Immediately, I sit up in bed. I listen as the sirens get close and then, suddenly, cut.
I hold my breath in the silence until I hear it.
The sound of someone rattling on the fire escape.
My window opens with a hiss. I hear the thud as he lowers himself from the window to my floor.
Spud’s nails click across the hardwood. I hear the low murmur of a male voice quietly talking to the dog.
I’m suddenly very awake. Something about his quiet, invading presence is both chilling and erotic.
Maybe he really is a vampire.
Always in the dark. Needs an invitation to enter my bedroom. Has a strange, hypnotizing hold on me…
I clutch my phone and text him.
[Text: Ophelia]
I hope that’s you, Dracula.
[Text: Phantom]
I’m here, Lucy.
[Text: Ophelia]
The sirens are a little dramatic, aren’t they?
[Text: Phantom]
I thought you liked drama.
There’s a soft light peeking under the bedroom door. The floorboards creek and the light shifts around the figure standing behind the door.
Phantom’s energy is different tonight. It’s dark, sharp, and even his texts feel like the blade of a knife drawing slowly against my skin.
The anticipation is almost too much. My heart is in my throat.
[Text: Ophelia]
Come in.
[Text: Phantom]
Not yet. You’re going to do as you’re told first.
Fuck. That text makes my cunt flutter. My body hums. We’re playing, now. I want to be his good girl, and I slip into the role effortlessly.
[Text: Ophelia]
Yes, Sir.
[Text: Phantom]
Take off your clothes.
[Text: Ophelia]
All of them?
[Text: Phantom]
All of them. Then get under the covers. On your back.
I slip my t-shirt over my head and drop it off the side of the bed.
Then I pull up my knees and roll my panties down my legs, off my ankles.
Fully naked now, I pull the blankets up my body.
My nipples have gone hard and even the soft tease of the comforter lights them up.
I push my legs together, the anticipation of what Phantom has in store for me making me ache.
I settle down on the pillow and pull out my phone.
[Text: Ophelia]
Done Sir
[Text: Phantom]
Do you have your sleep mask?
[Text: Ophelia]
yes
[Text: Phantom]
Put it on, then wait for me.
I set my phone down on my nightstand. I have a pink sleep mask and I pull it over my eyes, covering them completely. Then I settle down and…wait. Heart pounding. Body already burning for his touch.
My bedroom door creaks. I hear his footsteps, slow and steady. Just knowing he’s here, in my room, makes my heart beat faster.
Finally, after what feels like a decade, I feel his touch. His fingertip against my forehead as he gently coaxes a strand of hair behind my ear.
“How many times have I told you to lock your window?”
“A lot…”
There is something quietly dark is his energy tonight. His voice is low. Measured. I feel small, cold droplets on my face. Phantom is wet from the rain.
“Anyone can break in,” he continues. “Find you sleeping. Helpless. Do terrible thing to you.” As he speaks, his tender touch slowly becomes rougher.
His fingers meet my lips. They push them apart, invading my mouth.
He pushes two thick fingers into my mouth, pressing them against my tongue, and I feel my throat contract instinctively. “Tell me you understand.”
“I understand,” I say, my words muffled around his fingers. My own voice sounds strange to me: equal parts nervous and tight with longing.
“Did you do as I asked?”
“Uh-huh.”
He removes his fingers from my mouth. I gasp, able to breathe again.
“Show me,” he says.
I pull the covers down. Slowly, I feel the cool air touch my bare chest. Then my belly. I kick the blankets off my legs, knowing I’m fully exposed to him now.
I can’t see him, but I can feel his gaze. His fingertips find my belly. Feather-light, he draws a small O across my stomach. Then a P.
Is he spelling Ophelia? Or Ophelia and Phantom? I don’t know. Don’t care. My nipples are tight. My labia swelling and burning.
“Ophelia,” he sighs, my name like a prayer. “What am I going to do with you?”
He traces that single finger down my middle. He maps my hip and my thigh. I want so badly to push my hips against him, to rut my swollen clit against his knuckles, but I don’t. I’m a good girl. I lay still and I take whatever I am given.
“Whatever you want, Sir,” I whisper.
His touch leaves suddenly, and a groan escapes my lips. He takes my nipple and gives a strong tug. I gasp, the shot of pain making my chest arch, and he says, “Don’t move.”
I force myself still and lock my jaw. So it’s pain he wants tonight. He tugs the other nipple. I expect it this time, forcing myself still, but it makes me whimper all the same.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and my heart does a flip.
“Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” There’s the sound of rustling fabric.
He’s taking off his clothes. The bed compresses, and I feel him climbing in.
“Slide over,” he tells me, so I roll onto my side.
Phantom’s body slips in beside me. He’s mostly naked, bare skin furnace-hot against mine.
The hard muscles of his chest press against my back.
He’s wearing briefs, but when he grips my hip and slots my ass against him, I can feel the lovely swell of him, rock-hard and all mine.
My body is primed—ready to be used. Ready to be fucked. Ready to be teased and tortured and played with. But then Phantom locks me into his arms and suddenly—
Everything fits into place.
I feel safe. So safe. I didn’t realize how much I needed this feeling.
“God, you feel good,” Phantom says. I’ve heard him say those words before, with that same heat, only then he had his throbbing cock buried deep inside of me. Now, when he says it, he’s holding me. Cuddling. This intimacy…it satisfies something we’ve clearly both gone too long without.
His rough, dark edges suddenly soften. He threads one arm underneath me and hugs me tightly to him. His hug turns into an anaconda-squeeze. He kisses my neck. My shoulder.
But not horny, hungry kisses.
Sweet kisses. Can’t-get-close-enough kisses.
I tilt my head. “Sir…?”
“I know.” His voice is tight. “Just give me a second.”
He buries his face in my hair. I hear him inhale deeply, as though savoring my scent.
“God,” he mumbles. “I needed this.”
The backs of my eyes sting. I suddenly feel like I’m about to cry. “Me too,” I say, but my voice is barely a whisper. To myself, I think: Mandatory cuddle time.