17. CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Marcus

" H ello, Miss Irvine. How would you say you're doing today?"

"Please." Leighton suppresses a smile as we sit in our chairs. Close to each other, same as we had yesterday. "You can call me Leighton, Marcus. I promised I'd play along. I'm on board with…this."

Her hair has only just begun to dry. She brushed it and let it hang around her shoulders, the rusty pink standing out against the knitted gray mini-dress I chose for her.

No panties. No bra. A dress and nothing else.

"We've started our therapy session." For emphasis, I tap my pan on my legal pad where I scribbled— Leighton June Irvine, session 2 . "This isn't us chatting. "

"You sure?" Leighton runs her tongue on her lip. Testing me. Tempting me. "Since we're sick and all, maybe this is your version of pillow talk?"

"Absolutely not."

She lifts an eyebrow. This is the second time she's tried that on me.

Not too many have flirted with me over the years, but transference has happened. I'm here to listen to my patients, understand them, give them my undivided attention. In the process, some redirect unconscious feelings they have for another person to me.

In Leighton's case, there's no transference. The man she loves and her therapist are one and the same.

She does, however, need a firm hand.

Lucky for her, she has me.

I choose the approach I go for whenever a situation like this arises. I relax back in my chair. Pull my lips into a fine line and strip my gaze of any emotion .

I click my pen in a rhythm of five taps. Silence for two seconds. Five, then two again. Her gaze loses a part of the challenge in it. Her fingers relax in her lap.

"Let's skip the part where you force me to drag the information out of you." My tone is level, my azure-blue slacks and white button-down shirt emphasizing this is, indeed, a therapy session.

"Okay."

"Start by telling me how you're doing."

"I'm fine."

"Okay. What does fine mean?"

"That I'm not actually fine." Leighton dips her chin, glancing at me from beneath her thick lashes.

"Good. Honesty is good." I let her confession stay in the air for a beat. "Mind elaborating on that?"

"Well." Her eyes skate to the side. I sense a bratty statement is about to come. "I've been kidnapped, so there's that."

I don't scold her. This is her session. For selfish reasons, I use this time to get to know her.

"I can't imagine that was easy on you. Being taken."

She huffs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. A nervous tick I've witnessed long before this weekend.

"How are you holding up?" I continue, watching her cross and uncross her ankles.

"I'm not sure, Marcus." Leighton twists her lips. "You tell me."

She needed my cock earlier today. Now she needs me to guide her through this. I can disengage. Become an outside spectator.

"Do you not like the place you've been taken to?"

"I like it." Her chest presses against the fabric of her dress when she sucks in air. "It's nice here. A little creepy, but nice."

Pride swells deep within me for creating a home she loves.

"You mentioned you were confused this morning. Can you pinpoint what's troubling you?"

"So this is how it's going to be." A tiny sigh of frustration escapes Leighton's lips. "All serious."

She's quick to recover, though, straightening her spine. I want to kiss her so fucking bad it physically hurts.

"My kidnapper." She reciprocates my cold tone with one of her own. "He used to be this serious, hot, kind, unavailable, and freaking forbidden man. I loved everything about him."

She's talking in past tense, so what? She begged for my cock. The sting in my chest doesn't last longer than a second. I allow it. Everything's fixable.

"You're not sure whether you still love him? Is that what's causing your confusion?"

"No." She plays with the hem of her dress, tugging it higher. Exposing another inch of her tanned flesh. "I haven't stopped loving him. Thing is, he used to be more good than bad, but now…I'm not so sure. He's changed."

"Everyone changes. You don't perceive the world the way you have a decade ago, a year ago, or even two weeks ago." I tilt my head, ignoring the erection straining in my pants. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"I do. I…you know what? I spent the night running it in my head." Her voice lowers an octave. Her arms press her ample breasts together. "I've changed too. I still love the man who stuck a needle in my throat. The one who abducted me. The same person who bound me to a bed and threatened to put me in a trance so he could force me into submission."

There it is. She's aware of our situation. Aware, yet she doesn't hate me. She's warming up to the idea.

I scribble the word hope on my legal pad. As small as it might be. "You resent him, as well."

She nods.

"You could be deflecting." My suggestions aren't guidance. They're an exploration of her mind. "A part of you that resents your darkest desires. Is it possible you're taking it out on another person with proclivities that remind you of yours?"

"I've never felt like this before," she hisses, her seduction act dropping in a flash. "Never wanted these things you're doing to me."

Perfect. She might stick to her denial. Doesn't change the fact I struck a nerve.

"Think back to a week ago." I'm directing her to one of those nights she tiptoed her sweet ass to my doorway. "To those things you've done while hiding—"

Crimson red rushes up her neck and to her cheeks. "I thought I was hiding."

"No need to apologize. No harm done."

"To you."

"Leighton." I place the pad on the end table. I part my knees, place my elbows on them, and steeple my fingers. "Sexual awakening at your age is natural. More so when reciprocated. There are plenty of ways for me to humiliate you, but trust that this is not one of those. I've been waiting for you to fuck your hand while watching me. Your presence has filled a hole in my heart."

"Four years, Marcus." Leighton's breath hitches.

When she flips her hand face up, indicating that I take it, I oblige. I cover her little palm with mine, squeezing her.

"Four summers." Her eyebrows furl as she's trying to make sense of it all. "I've been legal for four summers. And please, don't give me the bullshit your education mattered excuse. I'm getting sick of the lies. Why haven't you said anything? "

"That wasn't a lie." Simply an omission of the truth. Same as I'm about to do now. "I would've distracted you. You'd have spent your nights in your apartment in Texas, talking to me over the phone. You'd have spent less time studying so you could be with me. Unacceptable."

That is, if you'd even be alive that long.

"You robbed me of my choice." The anger in Leighton sparks the anger in me.

My free hand lashes to the side of her throat, grabbing her. "I gave you opportunities."

I saved your life.

"Besides, I'm here." We're close, our eyes boring into the other's soul. "I'm yours."

"Who are you, anyway?" she snaps.

Despite her resentment, I feel her pulse kick beneath my hand. I slither both our hands up her thigh, groaning as my thumb strokes Leighton's wet center.

I glide my soaked thumb up to her palm, forcing her to see how wet she is. "The man you love."

"I don't know you." As I rub her core again, she moans, her head falling so her forehead presses to mine. "I don't know who I am."

"You've been such a good girl for years, Leighton." I look at her, waiting for her eyes to find mine. "Always doing the right thing. Never getting into trouble. I bet you covered for Rylan more times than I'd like to find out about."

"I don't snitch."

"You see?" Without releasing her hand, I twist ours together. "Always such a good girl. "

My thumb dips lower, teasing her slit, rubbing her clit in slow circles, then back down. Jesus, I want her to be inside her. Anywhere.

"You never gave yourself the opportunity to explore who you really are. Never asked yourself what you want. What will you find when you shed the smart, adorable, funny, and responsible layers she's been piling up on yourself."

"You…" The vowel at the end of the word twists and changes to a moan. I apply more pressure on her clit, rubbing her taut clit. "You think I'm all those things?"

"You have no idea, don't you?" I growl, edging closer to her face. Safe to say our session has gone down the drain. "How much I love you. How much I'm willing to sacrifice for you."

"Don't." Leighton's actions contradict her plea. She scratches the chair's cushion, spreading her legs. "I'll hate you for real if you ever mention sacrificing your relationship with Rylan for me."

"Let me worry about that." I will, though it'll be the hardest thing I've ever had to do. "Let me worry about you. I'll do anything for you. All you have to do is let me."

Fuck, why did I say that? Whatever answer she gives me on the brink of an orgasm won't be an honest one. I pull away. Completely. I don't even suck on my thumb, as much as I'm fucking feral for a taste of her.

"Marcus?" Leighton's frown twists her beautifully aroused expression.

"Tell me you want my help figuring life out. That you love me. That you'll let me give you the world. Me, only me." I gaze at her trembling thighs, inhaling the scent of her need. Then I add a warning, "Be honest, Leighton."

Leighton doesn't answer me right away. I'm satisfied. Losing my patience fast, but satisfied nonetheless.

"Yes. I want this. I want you." Leighton spreads her legs even wider. "Please make me come. Please, Marcus."

At first, I don't move. I explore every inch of her face, gouging her sincerity. She's honest. She means it. For now, at least. She's asking me to help her for us.

We'll get through the hardcore part of our sessions by the end of the fucking week. That's how fast she progresses.

"Baby." I kick my heavy chair back, dragging hers away from the table and getting on my knees. For her. "The stars are yours." The confession barrels out of me with zero filters. "I'll climb the motherfucking Everest for you. I'll kill for you."

Milo's obsessed and dire expression flashes before my eyes. I'd kill him for her. I'd kill him just because.

Her gasp pulls me out of my jealous rage. It gets my cock so hard, it nearly tears through my slacks.

"That's right." I shove her dress up, scrunching it messily at her waist. "I'm yours." My tongue flattens on her pussy, my eyes waiting for her reaction. "Whatever that means, I'm it."

She breathes hard, her chest rising and falling quickly. The material separating us infuriates me. Hooking my fingers on the collar of her dress, I rip the dress down the middle.

I bought Leighton the finest clothes when I shopped for her.

Even the most expensive garments don't stand a chance when I'm this starved for her .

She's giving us a chance.

"Much better." I bite one of her nipples, sucking on it at the end. Move to the other.

"The dress."

Where she sees the ripped fabric, I see the most beautiful fucking woman alive. Leighton's pretty pink nipples are pointed and red from my torture, her breasts swollen with need.

"Eyes on me," I bark.

Her beautiful eyes widen, aimed at me. Something deeper than need lies behind them. Something that resembles trust.

"I. Own. You." Each word is enunciated by a flick of my tongue on her clit. My fingers tease her entrance, swiping along her hot center without penetrating.

"I'll show you how good it feels to be mine." She's ready for me. For more of my sickness. For me to expose another layer of myself that might scare her but turn me on. "You'll wake up at night with my cock inside you, and you won't tell me to stop. You'll tell me to go harder. If you won't, I'll fuck you until you do."

She'll get used to me soon enough. She'll love me.

Every cruel part of me.

Without so much as a warning, I stand up.

"Please." Leighton clutches at my slacks, at my leather belt. "I can't take it. Please, Marcus."

"Quiet." I don't offer her an explanation. "You don't want to ruin the surprise, do you?"

She shakes her head subtly.

I stalk to the desk at the back of the study. Her gaze follows me. Just her gaze. Her body remains in place .

Good girl.

Pulling the black silk box from the top drawer, I smooth my wet thumb over the fabric.

"Look straight ahead, little doll." My instruction is cold. "Away from me."

Her obedience is immediate. Leighton doesn't see what I'm doing. She hears it. There's no dulling the snap of the box when I pop it open. Of me plucking out sanitizing wipes from the desk drawer. What she doesn't hear is me rubbing them over her custom-made presents.

"Such a good girl," I croon when I return to her. I kneel, still every bit as commanding from my place on the floor. "This is for you."

I hand her over the butt plug that's made of surgical steel. I have three more of those in various sizes that I want her to work up to. Each and every one of them is personalized.

"Why don't you hypnotize me like the other day?"

She's curious. I like that.

"You'll see. Suck and spit on it." My lips tug in a wicked smirk. "But…not before you spin the plug and read what's engraved on its end."

"Read?" She flips the butt plug in her hand. I memorize the surprise in her eyes. The glint of fear. " Marcus's property. Um." Her eyelashes flutter, and I sink two fingers into her pussy just to launch another assault on her senses. "You actually had them engrave"— moan —" Marcus's Property on the butt plug."

In for a penny, in for a motherfucking pound. "I'd engrave it on you if you'd let me."

"You're a psycho. "

As soon as the words leave her mouth, I close my teeth on her nipple and bite.

"Wrong answer." The other nipple gets the same brutal treatment. "The right one would be doing as I said. Spitting on it and getting it wet for your tight asshole, Leighton."

She squints her eyes at me. Then she does as I said, spitting like a brat on the butt plug. Spittle lands on her chest. On my hand clutching her waist.

Bratty and depraved. She has no idea how mine she is.

"Good girl." I scoop her into my arms, carrying her to one of the glass walls.

At this time of the day, the outside world is visible to us. Out front, expansive plains lie ahead, with some greenery for miles and miles.

"Marcus, no." She glances around her, visibly uncomfortable by the exhibitionism.

She still passes me the wet butt plug.

"Dirty girl." I spin her in my hold, flattening a palm on her back and arranging her so her fingers touch her toes. "You're afraid we'll have company and yet here you are. Letting me do this shit to you."

Teasing her clenched butt hole doesn't get her to relax. I grab one butt cheek, spitting on her little hole, massaging my saliva into her. I groan when she gives in, accepting my finger, then the butt plug. Precum leaks from my cock as I watch my name right there between her ass cheeks.

"My property." My fingers stroke the perimeter of the end of the plug .

Leighton relinquishes control of her body, sagging in my hold. Her eyes rise to stare at the world around us, and she clenches on the butt plug again.

I don't reassure her with words. My hand winds in her hair, pulling her up by the roots.

"You know what, someone might actually come around." My lips slam into hers as I back Leighton up to the glass wall. With one hand, I unfasten my belt, lowering my zipper, then I pull Leighton's hand behind her back. I shove it on my briefs, guiding her to stroke my length. "The mailman. Hazel, our housekeeper."

They won't. I'm a sadist for not telling Leighton. I do it anyway.

"No." She stops stroking, her shaky voice feeding my depravity. "Let's go to the bathroom, then. Or the couch. Under the blanket."

"We're doing no such thing." I spin her back, hold her beneath her thighs, and pin her to the glass wall. "A few things you have to remember, little doll. A, I'm not sharing you."

I drive my cock all the way inside her dripping pussy. Leighton screams and nods, clutching on to my shoulders. She's even tighter now with the plug rammed inside her.

"That means I'm not putting you on display for others." Her tits bounce as I fuck her into the wall. I bend, licking the bruised mounds one after the other. "Other thing is…"

Leighton's fingers cling to my hair. Her blue orbs darken. Pleasure pummels into her with each thrust. She's close. So fucking close, her pussy clenching on me like a vise .

"You'll have to trust me." I suck and mark her neck. "To do what's best for you. Even when it feels like I'm hurting you. Like you hate me."

Leighton's whimper almost drives me over the edge.

"You're so full, aren't you, baby?" I thrust harder, saying the dirty shit that's been swarming in my head for years. "The butt plug and my cock stretching your tight little holes."

"Yes. Please."

"You thrive on the pain. Deep down, you get off on the idea of being fucked in every one of your holes."

"Yes."

"I know." Her juices soak my dick, my balls. "I'll do that. I'll abuse your mouth, your ass, your pussy. Torture you so sweetly that you don't know where your crying ends and your moans begin."

That decadent promise sends her screaming for me. She comes, her heels digging into my ass and her eyes do not leave mine as she spasms on my cock.

"That's it." I slam her over and over into the glass wall, rattling it. "Good fucking girl, taking my cock with the plug up your ass."

I wait out her tremors, and when Leighton's almost calmed down, I shoot my load inside her. Her walls squeeze my dick from her elongated orgasm, and she starts crying. Wave and wave of cathartic tears cascade down her cheeks.

Tears I've put there.

"My beautiful Leighton." My tone is softer. The kisses I spread on her face and neck are gentle. "You did so well, plaything. You're every last one of my dreams come true. Always have been."

"Thank you." She snivels. It's the sweetest sound I've ever heard.

I place her on the floor briefly so I can pull my pants up. I continue to spoil Leighton by hauling her over my shoulder.

She could walk to the bathroom herself. It's me who wants to do this for her.

Her giggles are the warmest sunshine to my icy, desolate heart. Her sated smile as I place her in the bathroom is everything I could've ever wanted.

To see her smiling every day for the rest of my life.

Crying too.

That's it.

She twists her head to look at me when I remove the butt plug carefully. I turn on the warm water, soak a towel with it, then dab it over her backside.

Only there. I'm not wiping away my cum. I place her on the vanity, collect the semen from her thighs, and push it back in.

She narrows her eyes. They gleam as she studies my face. "You actually want babies with me."

"I do." I offer her my wet fingers, and she sucks on them greedily. "Many babies. As much as your body can take, little doll."

We don't mention they'll be Ry's half-siblings.

I don't bring up the dead bodies in my backyard.

The double standard doesn't escape me. I demand Leighton to trust me, but it'll take me a while to trust her in return. I have no guarantees she won't freak out. It's only to be expected.

At the moment, there's no one else here. We're us. Her and me, and the promise that I'll handle the rest.

Just her and—

The piercing ringtone of my burner phone slashes through our afterglow.

"Who's that?" Leighton's head snaps in the direction of the door.

Hazel, my housekeeper, won't call. That was our deal.

I have no such arrangement with Dr. Hatchett.

A glint of curiosity and maybe hope shines in Leighton's eyes. My irritation at the phone call quickly escalates into fury.

I'm hurt. Fuck yeah, I am. I hate that I was right.

She needs more time.

I can't have her screaming for help on an impulse while I take the call. I can't. I won't have her screaming and making it sound like I'm forcing her to be here.

"I'm going to answer the phone." I grab her hair, my gentleness gone.

"Okay." Leighton's freaking eyes keep darting to the door. To someone who might save her.

I know she loves me. I understand human nature too.

In a few days, once she gets used to this place, she'll be begging for me to stay longer.

Today is not that day.

"I love you, Leigh," I say and mean it.

"I, uh, I lo—"

"It's better this way," I cut into her words. "I promise. "

"What? Marcus, you're scar—"

"Moon."

A fraction of a second later, she's putty in my arms. "I know I promised I wouldn't do it. But I have to take precautions. It's for your own good."

She doesn't answer. Her eyes twinkle with accusations.

I deserve those. I'll grovel later, when it's safe. She'll see reason.

My Leighton always does.

"Our more thorough hypnosis session will have to wait for tomorrow," I whisper into her hair while carrying her limbless body to our bedroom. "Tomorrow, there'll be no distractions."