Benny
PARKING THE CAR A FEW blocks over, I walk toward her house. I’m just stepping into the road to cross over when I see a group of people walking up the path and going inside.
What the fuck?
She didn’t say anything about there being more than just her and I.
I send her a text, but get no reply. Rage burns up my spine.
Is she playing me? No, she wouldn’t.
Honk-honk!
Light floods up my legs and blinds me as the loud blaring of the horn almost deafens me. Holding my hand up to cover my eyes from the intrusion of light, I step out of the road so the car can pass, and take cover next to a tall tree. My eyes remain on the house, watching, hoping she replies so I don’t have to go over and make a scene. The car that almost ran me down pulls over in front of the house, and it’s then I recognize who it belongs to.
Fucking Dillon.
What the hell is it with him nearly finding out about me still owning my heartbeat?
Exasperation washes over me. Why is he here? Does he have a hard-on for another one of my dolls? Why haven’t I killed that motherfucking slimy prick yet?
He’s not there long, and soon, leaves alone. The bedroom light to my doll’s room flicks on, and she comes to the window, pushing it wide open and inhaling. She holds her hand to her ear and my cell lights up with her number a second later.
“Doll?” I breathe.
“Master, my sister ruined everything. I hate her. I hate it here. I’m sorry, but can I come to you?” She sniffles, and my soul aches to hold her. Where the hell can I take her that will be discreet and safe? Tanner’s surprise flickers into my mind, and I sigh. “I’m waiting for you. Pack a bag. Come outside and walk up two blocks. You will see a black Mustang waiting. Keep your head down,” I instruct.
My body hums in anticipation. I can hardly keep still as I wait for her. When I see her running down the street, not being fucking discreet at all with her backpack dangling from her grip, I have the urge to snag her up and stuff her in the backseat so she doesn’t cause a scene. But the moment I see her face, highlighted by my headlights, my chest aches. Her pretty makeup is ruined. Black mascara streaks down her rosy cheeks, her nose is bright red, and her juicy pink lips are parted as she sobs. Her white dress bounces as she runs, revealing her milky thighs above her knee-highs. She has tiny tits, but even those are alluring as fuck as she runs.
Run, run, run, Doll, right into my waiting arms.
As soon as she nears, she crashes into me, her tiny body nearly knocking me over. I’ve never been met with such need and overwhelming emotion. My heart hammers in my chest as I gather her slight form into my arms. I kiss the top of her head and inhale her sweet scent. Much like a child, she cries against my chest, squeezing me as though she’s scared I’ll let her go.
I’m never letting go.
“Shhh,” I coo, stroking her hair. My cock is alive and hard as fuck as it presses against her stomach. She doesn’t seem put off by it, though. She keeps her tight grip on me. “Let’s get you in the car, and you can tell me what happened.”
I guide her to the passenger side—because I’m gentlemanly as fuck when it comes to Bethany—and open the door. As pretty as she’d be shoved into the backseat with her dressed pushed up her hips, I help her into the front and toss her backpack onto the floorboard between her legs. When I snap her seatbelt for her, her glimmering eyes meet mine.
Adoration.
Need.
Relief.
Heat.
The look in her eyes is a flipbook of emotions—all of them revolving around her desire for me. I swipe away her mascara tearstained face and kiss her button nose before closing her in and hopping in the driver’s side. The engine is loud, firing away as I gun it down the road. I should be more discreet, but I can’t help it. I lose my fucking head when Bethany is in my space.
Her scent.
The sad sounds coming from her lips.
The way her mind seems to be filling up the car with unspoken words I can almost taste.
Reaching over, I give her thigh a squeeze before taking her hand. She grips it tightly, desperately, making my cock strain against my jeans. I want her hand wrapped around my dick, but this will have to suffice—for now.
“I hate my sister,” she chokes out. “She’s a selfish, judgmental, bratty bitch.”
“Go on, Doll. Let it out.” I wink at her.
Her smile is shy, but reserved just for me. “She never cares about what I want. Tonight, all I wanted was to have a perfect dinner with you.”
I bring her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. How can I not?
“I’ll give you everything you want and more,” I assure her, biting at her knuckle before soothing away the sting with my lips. This time, I rest our conjoined hands in my lap.
She chatters on about how much she hates her sister, and it makes me hate her too. If it pleased her, I’d cut the cunt’s throat at Bethany’s feet. She can splash in the blood puddle, dirtying up her shiny shoes, and my cock would get hard at the squeals leaving her lips.
In due time.
For now, the most pressing matter is getting Bethany home—where she belongs. Safe from prying eyes and bitchy sisters. Away from fucks like Dillon who insert themselves too fucking much into her life.
The drive is long, and after some time, she falls asleep. Poor thing was so emotional, she exhausted herself. She’ll need her rest for later.
I’m glad she sleeps for the last leg of the journey. She continues to slumber even after I shut off the car. Her eyes flutter when I open her door and pull her into my arms, but I kiss her nose, and she relaxes. It takes some shuffling, but I manage to wrench the bunker door open. When I left earlier, I made sure to leave the AC on. The space has cooled, and I worry she might be chilly in her frilly dress. As I lay her down on the bed, she finally wakes. Her stomach grumbles, and I chuckle.
“Why don’t you relax and I’ll make you something to eat?” I suggest.
Her brows furrow. “I made you the most delicious dinner. I’m so disappointed.”
Sitting down beside her, I cradle her cheek with my palm. “I’ll buy you all the ingredients you need to make it again tomorrow night. I promise. Now, sit tight.”
She nods, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality—the same stare she gave me after we had phone sex. My dick lurches in my jeans, but I ignore it for now. My precious new doll is hungry. Stalking out of the room, I head into the kitchen, surprised to find the refrigerator stocked full of things Tanner knows I like. If he were here, I’d tell him my approval. I’ll have to mention it later.
I’m not much of a cook, but I do manage to throw together a quick dinner—scrambled eggs, some hash browns, and a side of applesauce. I pour her a giant glass of milk that almost spills over, but stop it just in time. I hope things will stay this way and I won’t ever have to starve train her.
No, this is Bethany. She won’t try to run.
Run.
Run.
Run.
She wants to stay.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
Grabbing one of the two TV trays tucked between the shelf and cabinet, I place her dinner on top and look over the arrangement. Deciding something’s missing, my eyes roam to the obnoxious vase of black roses Tanner left on the kitchen table as a welcome home gift, and I stalk over to it, yanking the biggest rose from the bunch. Pain stings my palm as the thorns cut into me, but all I can do is smile.
I’ll make this good for her.
So fucking good.
Placing the rose on the tray, I carry it into our bedroom. Bethany sits primly on the bed, using a compact mirror to finish wiping away the smudged makeup. When our eyes meet, she flashes me a smile. As soon as she sees the tray I place on the bed, her grin widens.
“Oh, thank you,” she squeaks, her cheeks turning pink. “This is so nice.”
I sit down beside her and take her hand. A gasp escapes her when my blood smears against her palm.
“You’re bleeding,” she rasps. Bringing my hand to her lips, she presses kisses to the punctured flesh, and I’m mesmerized by the way her plump lips turn crimson with my blood. I want to paint her entire body with it, then fuck her until I die.
“It’s fine.” My voice is husky and my dick is throbbing against my jeans.
She frowns as I reluctantly pull my hand from her grip and pick up the spoon. I shovel some eggs onto it and gesture toward her with a nod of my head.
“Open up, Doll.”
Her bloody lips part without argument. She’s fucking perfect. Fucking mine. I feed her the eggs. Bite after bite. Then the hash browns. Our eyes never leave each other.
“I’m thirsty,” she breathes, and I hold up the glass of milk. She drinks it greedily, a small rivulet escaping the corner of her mouth and hanging from her jaw. Leaning forward, I lap at her—like a cat to a bowl of warm milk. When I pull away, she hands me the half empty glass, her eyes flickering with flames of want. Setting it back down on the tray, I start spoon-feeding her the applesauce. A glob falls to the slight swell of her breasts above the top of her dress, and I toss the spoon onto the plate, sliding my hands to her ribs. The moment I lean in, her breath catches.
She’s excited.
So goddamned excited.
As if I’m about to give her everything she’s ever wanted in this life.
I can practically feel her thundering heartbeat dancing in cadence with my own.
Her need—her motherfucking desire for me—is irresistible.
I lick away the sweet splatter of applesauce, but the moment I taste her, I can’t pull away. I suck on the flesh until a pleading whine escapes her.
“Are you still hungry?”
“N-No,” she says quickly, and I pull away from her, flashing her a smoldering grin.
“Get comfortable. I’ll return in a moment.”
Collecting the remnants, I walk into the kitchen with purpose, deposit the tray, and grab the rope Tanner procured before heading back to my Bethany. When I enter the space, she’s already kicked off her shoes and is fidgeting with the knee-highs as she stands beside the bed.
“Leave them on,” I order, dropping the rope in a heap at my feet.
Her cheeks burn bright and she nods. “What now?”
I prowl over to her, admiring the way her white dress is stained with my blood on one side of her ribs. “Take your panties off.”
She tears her hazel eyes from mine. So shy, my perfect doll. But she’s also obedient. Her hands slip under her dress and she begins pushing the fabric down her thighs. Before she can get very far, I kneel in front of her and take over.
The moment I smell her arousal, I begin to unravel. Flashes of my Bethany from all those years ago flicker in my mind. When we’d been curious and in love. Before it was all ruined by my mother.
The Bethany standing before me is someone more beautiful. More perfect. She’s not manipulative or too strong for her own good. This doll is soft, pliable, mine.
“Do you want me to take off my dress?” Her voice is a quivered whisper.
I look up, a heated smirk on my lips. “I quite like this dress on you, Doll. When I fuck you, I want to be able to fist it in my grip.”
Her cheeks blaze red and she lets out a choked sound. “This is real. This is happening.”
Rising to my feet, I tower over her. She’s young, so young, but I’m not a pervert. I know she’s a woman despite her frilly dresses and lacy panties.
“I’m nervous,” she squeaks out.
I slide my fingers into her silky dark brown hair and tilt her head back so she’s staring up at me with wide hazel eyes.
“Do you want me to put on the wig?”
What?
“I brought it with me in my backpack.” She gestures to the discarded bag on the floor.
“So, you know I’ve seen the website?” I ask, my voice hoarse with need.
Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “I thought it was a high probability.”
Uncertainty flickers in her gaze. I’ll have to fucking fix that.
“Never wear that wig again. Burn it,” I growl before pressing my lips to hers. The moment she lets out a moan, I devour her pouty mouth. She fists my T-shirt, her breaths coming out sharp and heavy as I consume her. Slipping my hand between us, I move it under her dress and slide it to her pussy.
She practically drips with need.
Bethany wants me.
Dragging my finger along her seam, I let it linger on her clit. She lets out a needy moan, and her hips buck forward, seeking my touch. I rest my foot on the side of the bed, then draw her leg up over mine, opening her to me, exposing her beneath her dress. Then, I’m diving beneath the fabric, on a hunt for her slippery center. Her untouched pussy doesn’t gape like the whores I’m used to. Even open to me, she’s still as tight as ever, only confirmed when I push a finger inside her.
“Oh God,” she chokes out.
“Shhh,” I murmur against her lips. “I just need to feel you—all of you.”
Her whimpers sing to my cock, and it pokes at her, begging for attention. I rub my thumb across her clit, enjoying the way she rocks her hips in a circular motion to chase my touch. I’m so focused on pleasuring her, I snarl when her hand touches my cock through my jeans.
I pull slightly away to glare at her, my hardened gaze meeting her curious and unsure eyes. Shy even. She’s nothing like the forward whores. Bethany wants to pleasure me, but she doesn’t seem to know how…or perhaps she fears I might not like it. I groan, my look smoldering her, letting her know I really fucking like it.
I want to be rough. Hurt her to claim her. Follow my instincts. Release the monster inside. But I know I have to be different with her. She’s different from anyone before her.
“You’re mine, Doll,” I remind her, not wanting her to ever fucking forget.
“Yours,” she agrees, her voice breathy. “I want it to be you. To lose my virginity to you.”
“You’re not losing anything,” I growl, urging another finger into her tight body. “I’m taking it from you. It belongs to me.”
Her pussy drenches further with arousal, my cryptic words turning her on even more. With each thrust of my fingers inside her and circle of my thumb over her clit, she begins to lose control. She clutches onto my shirt with one hand and awkwardly strokes at my cock through my jeans with the other. It’s not enough. I want inside her.
“Come, Doll. I need you so fucking badly, and I can’t wait forever.”
She moans and tilts her head to the side, baring her pale, slender throat to me. Like a vampire seeking his dinner, I dive in, nipping the fuck out of her flesh. She cries out, and I taste metallic blood on my tongue. Instead of her crying or shrieking at me, she comes.
Holy fuck, does she come.
Her body trembles violently, her tiny pussy clamping down around my fingers in a death grip. I continue to rub her even as her orgasm subsides. Her knee, the only leg she’s standing on, buckles, but I catch her. Lowering my leg, I give her a tiny push, and she falls back on the bed, staring up at me in awe.
“You bit me.”
“You’re a beautiful bleeder.”
At this, she beams. Fucking beams at me. Goddamn, she’s perfect.
Reaching behind my neck, I grab a fistful of my T-shirt and pull it over my head in one swift motion. Her gaze rakes across my tattooed flesh, and she bites her bottom lip. Since meeting Tanner, he’s introduced me to the world of lifting and keeping my body fit. I’ve always been naturally lean and muscular, but now I’m cut from stone. Every muscle is stronger than before. I can crush a throat with just my fist.
“This is so much better in person,” she breathes.
As I watch blood trickle from the small bite I gave her, I can’t help but agree. In person, I can smell her. Fucking taste her. My entire body trembles with the same sensations I feel when I want to kill someone. All consuming. Intoxicating. Out of control. Except, it isn’t her life I want to destroy, it’s her pussy. I want to tear her up from the inside and leave my mark on every part of her. Looking back, I feel stupid when I consider my level of dedication to Jade. I can hardly think about her these days without my own monster mocking me. I was younger and blinded then. I thought she was the best replacement for Bethany, the closest I’d ever come—but I was so fucking wrong. I should have known fate would bring my real Bethany. My perfect doll.
Now, all I can see is Bethany.
She’s so perfect, all the past attempts feel like massive failures.
I pounce on her with a growl, and our teeth clash together painfully. I’m ripping at her dress, yet I don’t want her to take it off. My mind battles with a thousand scenarios. There’s so much I want to do to her, it’s maddening me.
“Master,” she breathes, her palms cupping my cheeks. “Stay with me. I want your attention on me.” Her request is more of a desperate plea. She wants to be loved by me so badly, she can’t stand it. My eyes bore into hers as I shove her dress up her hips.
“You’re making me crazy,” I admit, my words a shocked whisper.
Her smile lights up the entire goddamn room. I fumble with my belt and jeans. The moment my cock is in my grip, I glare at her.
“I can’t go slow or soft or gentle. I want to fucking hurt you.” My jaw clenches, and I hate my brutally honest nature.
Her hazel eyes darken. “I liked when you bit me. I’m not a porcelain doll, Master. I’m your doll. You can’t break me.” The challenge in her voice makes the tip of my cock weep with need. With a roar, I tease her opening that’s slick with desire.
So many dolls I’ve broken. Ruined. Killed. But not this one. This one tops them all. I’m keeping her forever.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” My tone is deadly.
“You. Can’t. Hurt. Meeeeeee!” She screams the last word as I drive myself into her tight hole in one forceful thrust. Her fingernails claw at my shoulders and tears leak from her eyes. My fingers find her jaw, and I grip her to the point I know I’ll bruise her perfect skin. Her eyes clamp shut, and she trembles.
“Look at me,” I breathe against her wobbling lips.
Her eyes pop open on command.
“You’re beautiful, and I’ve never been with a woman who’s felt as good as you do.” Her features soften at my words. Sweet little Bethany doll. She loves her compliments. “Your pussy is wet and so goddamn tight around my throbbing dick. You saved it just for me, didn’t you? You felt me. Watching and waiting. I was always coming for you…it was just a matter of time before I found you.”
“Kiss me,” she begs on a hiccup. “Please.”
Loosening my grip on her jaw, I slide my palm to her breast over her dress. Our mouths meet, and I can’t even kiss her softly. I need to taste more of her. She whimpers when my teeth pierce her bottom lip, but she doesn’t complain. Her fingers slide to my buzzed head, and she scratches her nails through it. I feel like she’s had plenty of time to adjust to the size of my dick, so I thrust hard inside her as we kiss frantically.
I fuck her bare because she’s mine.
I fuck her hard because she’s mine.
I fuck her to the point of pain because she’s mine.
Her body is tense beneath me, so I seek out her clit. I like when her body drips with need for me. When she gets slippery between her sweet pussy lips.
“Oh God,” she cries out. “That feels…that feels…better,” she pants.
No, Doll, it feels fucking amazing.
Soon, her body is shuddering uncontrollably and her pussy milks my dick as she fights between the pain and pleasure. I lose myself inside my Bethany. My own release comes with a roar, my seed spurting deep inside my doll. I coat her with my masculine essence and own her.
“My name is Beth,” she whispers against my ear.
I lap at her bloody neck and smile. “I know.”