27. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Marcus

A surge of adrenaline hit me while I jogged around our house. It was a sudden shock to my system. Strong. Jarring. Heating me through and through.

The need to bite, spank and inflict pain woke inside me, and it wouldn't rest. I sprinted back to the house, throwing myself into the cold shower.

Didn't help. My inexplicable aggression only firmed its grip on me. Even though I watched Rylan and made sure she's home and not with Dr. Hatchett.

Drinking chamomile tea has failed me just as much.

I snarl at the useless drink and down what's left of it down the drain.

I'm. Still. Reeling .

Of course, I am. What did I expect? I told Leighton I live with a monster inside me.

And here it is. Beneath my jeans and black T-shirt, it claws its way out.

It's broken free from the place where he hides when I love Leighton like a decent man should.

My guess is, it senses the imminent danger. How I'll have to leave her soon.

How I'll have to confront my daughter. Save the love of my life.

Glue the three of us together and it works out.

It'll be a struggle. A fight.

But I'm not going anywhere today. And yet here it—he—is.

The energy inside me is explosive. Begging for an outlet.

Needing a taste of her . To defile her and humiliate her. Make her cry in agony. Make her come with my name on her lips. So much that she'll lose her voice.

As I lean against the doorway to our bedroom, I might look calm.

I'm as feral as I'd ever been.

She's beautiful. Delectable, lying on her stomach. The covers are scrunched in a pile next to her. She must've pushed them off her in her sleep while I've been busy.

It's as if, even unconscious, she could tell I'd need her at my disposal. To take her in her sleep.

Be a violent asshole and not be the least bit sorry about it.

And I do. My God, I do .

I rip my shirt off my chest, never looking away from Leighton. My chest muscles strain at the sight of her slow breathing. At how helpless she is in our bed.

Our time in this house is limited. I can practically hear the fucking clock ticking.

Her parents will question her long vacation and lack of phone calls soon.

If she's pregnant with my baby, like I hope she is, she'll have to see a doctor.

We'll have to get packing any day now.

Not today, though.

Moreover, when I heard from Dr. Hatchett yesterday, she didn't sound distressed. Rylan and Milo were nowhere near her. Her last question about helping me was just her being nice.

My psychiatrist is safe.

Fuck this. Fuck this whole situation.

I don't want to think about them.

I. Want. Leighton.

My blood rushes to my groin as an idea forms in my head.

A knife.

To have a blade to her neck while she's dreaming. Blissfully unaware while I…fuck. I circle back to the kitchen, grabbing a knife and disinfecting it before stalking back to her.

My fingers itch to touch my girl. Release my aggressions without risking what could be our baby.

Using one hand, I shuck off my jeans and briefs, leaving them at the door. My hard cock bobs out, and I stroke myself. Lick my lips at the sight of her naked butt and all the things I'm going to do to it .

Her breaths are shallow, her face is turned to me. I tug on my throbbing length once more, needing to take the edge off as I clutch onto the knife with my other hand.

The things this woman does to me. She's taken my head hostage. Has crept into my heart. She pushes me to my limits on a daily basis. Forces out a man that's been buried deep inside.

Until I learned what it means to love her .

I told Leighton she was wrong for calling me a psycho. As I creep toward her, I'm starting to believe she might've been right.

Every day I'm around my girl, I feel something gnawing at my sanity. I'm neither psycho nor crazy. My obsession, however, isn't what the literature would deem as healthy. It can't be.

But it mirrors hers. And nothing about Leighton can be wrong.

Not a damn fucking thing.

I place one knee and then the other on the bed beside her. Watching her.

"Hmm." Her lips twitch in her sleep, responding to the bed dipping.

I think I even spot a smile. Adorable.

She doesn't make another sound after that. My Leighton stays silent as I move between her legs. When I adjust a pillow between her belly and the bed, lifting her butt up.

I bite my knuckles, stifling a growl.

Motherfucking beautiful.

The butt plug with Marcus's Property engraved on it peeks at me. My fingers sink into the handle of the knife .

Every muscle in my body is rife to maul Leighton. Leave the butt plug in there and slide into her tight pussy while she sleeps. Rip it out of her and watch tears stream down her cheeks. Hear her screaming for me.

The options are endless.

The beast inside me demands I take.

Not what, not how. Just take .

Denying myself would be futile. I'll end up doing it anyway, and the more I suppress those desires, the more pain I'll inflict on Leighton.

The more unhinged I'll be once I take her.

Settled on my knees, I position the knife flat on her back, right on top of the curve of her spine. The tip of the blade rests on the top of the sexy line that separates her ass cheeks.

I lick my tongue at the arousing picture I've created.

"Beautiful," I say in a hushed, lust-filled voice as I start fucking my hand.

The furious strokes stoke the fire in me. My mind reels with images of what the knife could do to Leighton. Drops of crimson on her ass, on her shoulder. Painting her mouth.

Then I'll add white to the red picture. My cum on her face, filling her ass. Covering her womb.

Leighton shifts on the bed in her sleep, dropping the knife to the side.

My eyes don't stay on her round, inviting ass. They travel higher.

Leighton's shifting in bed has made it so that one of her nipples peeks out from the side. It's starting to harden. She's aroused in her sleep. Has to be dreaming of me .

That last thought is my undoing. My orgasm is violent and painful, and I spray it all over and around Leighton's butt plug. Her ass clenches, her body sensing me despite her being very much asleep.

I should be relaxed. Lie next to Leighton, collect my cum, and feed it to her for breakfast.

But no. My cock doesn't soften. I'm not anywhere near satisfied. Nowhere near finished with Leighton.

Light filters in the room, shining on the blade of my knife. I bend to grab the handle, my free hand massaging my semen into Leighton's skin.

"Marcus?" she murmurs, her eyes fluttering halfway open.

I didn't mean to wake her. Just as well. She'll be horrified by the knife. She'll cry and beg.

For.

Me.

A smirk spreads on my lips. I wipe it off quickly.

My serious expression is a warning. I owe Leighton that much.

"Not a word." In one movement, I have my chest pressed to her back.

The good girl she is, she doesn't talk.

I lift her head with one hand, sliding the knife right under her neck. The dull edge of the blade is pinned to her throat as I place Leighton's head back on the pillow.

Her eyes are wide. My prey.

"What are you doing?" she whispers.

"I said…" I lean on my forearm, closing my fingers on the end of her butt plug. "Not a word. "

She whimpers when I twist and pull it out of her. Her hands latch on to the bed sheets at her sides. She doesn't scream. She knows what I want.

Obedience.

And I reward her for it. "Good girl. So quiet for me."

I fling the plug across the room. It hits one of the glass walls, dropping to the floor with a clunk . Inside the silent home, the noise is loud.

My groan when I shove a finger into Leighton's asshole is louder.

I stretch her, my fingers sliding in and out of her. While I have the knife pinned to her throat. While her pulse drums wildly and her cries of pleasure make my dick so. Fucking. Hard.

"I'll paint your body red, little doll." Careful not to slash her throat, I slip the knife out from under her. "You'll look so good. Good enough to eat. And I will eat you."

I'm throbbing at the way she gazes at me, silent and receptive. The sounds coming out of her tell the story of her pleasure. Her doll-like face is what gives me pleasure. My doll.

I remove my fingers from her ass, putting my weight on my hand and straighten. Driven by my depraved fantasies, I press the tip of the knife to her shoulder. Put more pressure on her flesh. Breaking the skin. Drawing blood.

Leighton shivers, gasps. Otherwise, she's quiet.

Watching the drop of blood flips on a switch inside me.

"Here's how you'll never forget about our time here." A trail of blood appears on her left shoulder. First, I mark her with the letter L, and right next to it, I carve M . "I have our initials etched to your skin, plaything. You'll have them on you always."

The gleam of gratitude in her eyes speaks to the monster in me. Her breathy sigh calls for the man to take her.

"Jesus, you're perfect." I lower myself onto her, driving my hand under her body to knead her nipple. Grinding my cock between her butt cheeks. "Do you feel me? Feel how fucking hard I am for you?"

She gives me one delicious blink.

"You were sleeping just now when I came on your ass." My hand moves of its own accord, pressing the tip of the knife to Leighton's shoulder where she can see it. "Thing is, I'm not done. I'm hard again. So fucking hard, and it's all for you."

I grab my cock, aligning myself to her tight hole, ready to shove inside her.

"Wait."

Her plea freezes me in place. She knows better than to deny us and stop me unless—

I flip her on her back, placing my forearms next to her head. Still holding the knife. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You stopped me for nothing?" I warn.

She keeps staring at me. I recognize this look. It's always there when she's aroused by my intensity. By my cruelty.

Expecting—no, needing —my harsh side to hurt her.

I'm eager to give her what she's begging for. I press the knife to her collarbone, and the sharp blade knicks her. I don't stop there, drawing a horizontal line across the thin layer of skin .

She growls, a little lamb that aches for the vicious wolf.

Discarding the knife, I dip my finger in her blood. It's not much, barely covering my fingertip.

Doesn't matter. It's enough for what I plan for her.

I drag my bloodied finger on her plump lip. Over. And over. And over. Painting it red.

"You want something else." My cock parts her folds and the tight walls of her pussy suck me in. "Fucking ask for it."

"I want to be your doll."

I'm not easily confused. Then again, I thought I wasn't a violent man, either.

I thought I wasn't a lot of things until Leighton took my sanity as her hostage.

"You already are," I answer.

The coppery smell curls in the air and blends into the delicious scent of our arousal. Leighton is quiet. Doesn't explain herself.

After moments of painting her lips in bright red and sinking my dick deeper inside her, I suddenly get it.

Despite her silence, I understand.

"You got off on my lies the other day. What I said about the dolls in the closet." Her eyes flicker in response, and my cock jerks inside her. "You've been lying to me. Feigning disgust. You were jealous, weren't you?"

Her teeth scrape along her plump bottom lip. Red paints her pearly whites. As soon as she tastes her own blood, a blush rushes to her cheeks. Her nipples harden. Her eyes darken.

"Dirty girl." I give her more of what she's asking for, pushing my fingers past her teeth and into her mouth. "I still have so much to learn about you. And you'll let me. You'll let me infiltrate every aspect of your life. Either that, or I'll break your doors down one by one."

She sucks on my fingers, darting her tongue to lick them.

"See, now I know you're testing me." I bottom out inside her pussy at the same time I shove my fingers so far down Leighton's throat that she gags. "Trying to see how deep my depravity runs. I'll tell you just how deep, beautiful. Very deep. Very fucking deep. When I'll look at you soon and see nothing but plastic limbs and glass eyes, I won't just be hard. I'll impale you. Tear you from the inside. That what you want?"

Two weeks ago, Leighton would've flat-out denied it. Two weeks ago, her mind also tricked her into believing I wasn't good for her.

Seems like a lifetime ago.

There's no rejection in her gaze anymore. She's diving headfirst into the pit of our decadent souls with me. Right into the bottom of the dark, depraved well. To where our love lies.

More tears pour from her gorgeous blue orbs. I don't let up, fucking her with my cock, choking her with my fingers.

I slam into her, forcing her body into the bed. I'm cruel and demanding. Close to coming again. Not that it matters. A second orgasm won't be enough for me.

I'll be hard as a rock for Leighton all day today. Could last for hours inside her.

"Let me tell you another thing about me, Leigh."

My little doll, sweating and used, gazes at me with her eyes wide. Waiting .

"I get hard for you when you so much as breathe." I seethe, the words gritted out behind clenched teeth as Leighton's cunt squeezes around me. "I get hard when I watch you pee."

Our faces are close, and I rip my fingers out of her mouth to come even closer. My teeth sink into her lip. Tugging, biting, marking her. The taste of her blood makes me wild, and I lick it off her.

"I've memorized your scent for years. I can recognize you from a mile away." I lock my fingers around her throat, loving the way she gasps. "That time of the month, when you bleed, baby, I come so hard that I forget my goddamn name."

Her pupils dilate. Then she opens her mouth to scream as her pussy clenches like a vise around my cock. We come together, Leighton's arousal soaking me while I pump my seed inside her cunt.

"That's right." I slide my thumb beneath her chin, tilting her head up. Her mind is ready for what she's asked for. "I'm a sick, dirty bastard. Just like you."

She mumbles something incoherent.

"What?"

"I love you."

"Me too, baby. I love you. Now, hush."

Soon, I'll rip off her speaking abilities and I won't be nice about it.

I'll take everything from her, until there'll be only me.

I pull out of Leighton, put on my jeans, and stalk to the closet .

Since we're going to be filthy, I'm going all out. I grab a white see-through mini lace dress off one of the hangers. With her garment slung over my shoulder, I retrieve the set of ropes I used on Leighton when we just got here.

When I return to the room, a million questions brim behind Leighton's eyes. Ones she silences.

"Stand up," I order, and she obeys.

Placing the ropes on the bed, I help her into the dress. Every detail has to be just right. I don't rush as I adjust the thin straps on Leighton's shoulders. Careful to avoid the open wound where I carved our initials.

Once I'm done, I step back to admire her.

Leighton's bed hair is a wild mess of pink waves. There are streaks of dried tears on her cheeks. Her swollen lips are parted for me. The laceration across her collarbone is shallow, looking a lot like a thin red necklace. I make a mental note to get her one in the future.

Then there's the dress itself. Leighton's nipples and abused pussy are visible beneath the thin lace. The dress itself hugs my woman's seductive curves like I knew it would.

It's short. Real fucking short. I see my cum trickling down her thigh, that's how short it is.

I clench my hands into fists. I'm struggling to keep my dick in my jeans when all I can think of is burying myself inside her.

"My little doll." In four steps, I'm hovering over her. My nose traces the scent of her salty tears, my tongue tasting them. "You're playing a dangerous game. Asking me the things you do. "

Her answer is her silence.

I could be nice. I could carry her into a trance slowly.

Too bad I'm not in a nice mood.

My baby might be inside her, so I won't do anything to endanger either of them.

But her mind? That's mine to mess with.

"Moon," I whisper with my arm wrapped around her back.

Her resistance vanishes in an instant. I hold her body upright, hauling her to my front and grabbing her jaw.

I have to check on her. "We're having fun so far, aren't we, Leighton?"

She blinks once.

"Yeah, you love being my plaything." Relieved, I slide my fingers into her hair, parting the silky strands. "My plastic little hole to fuck."

I have her chest pinned to mine and I feel her heart. It beats at a slow, measured pace. When I slither my hand down her body, under the hem of her dress, she's dripping. This isn't just my cum. It's her.

My lips quirk to the side in an evil smirk.

"You're boneless. Have a hard time staying up. Let me make you comfortable." Her toes scrape on the floor as I drag her to the center of the room. "There we are. You're going to keep being good. You'll stand here and wait for your master."

Understanding shines behind her glassy eyes. I loosen my hold on her inch by inch, watching to see if she falters. She doesn't. Her knees aren't wobbly. She holds perfectly still .

I'm hot as fuck for her. Want to defile her. Use her and tear into every hole in her body.

I'm also driven out of my mind with love for Leighton.

Mad for her. Free-falling.

I'll never be sane when it comes to this woman.

Walking backward to the bed, I keep watching her like a hawk. Ready to sprint to her if she falters. I don't look anywhere else as I gather the ropes from the bed blindly and return to my place in front of Leighton.

"You're the most beautiful doll I've ever seen," I praise her, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. "A pure little thing in that white dress. I'll take great pleasure in defiling you."

We're in our own world, Leighton and me. That of sex and sin. Of a sickness only she and I could ever understand. We feed off each other in the most obscene ways.

And I'll never leave my woman starved.

"I'm your puppeteer for the day."

I pull back, my nostrils flaring when I see her nipples straining beneath the dress.

Moving forward with my plan, I wrap my fingers around her delicate wrist. There's not a shred of resistance when I lift her arm. Her fingers dangle as I make a knot of the rope around her wrist.

"You'll perform for me, and me alone." Before I move to her other arm, I pin her with a dark, possessive glare. "We'll never have an audience. You're mine . Your body is mine. Your holes are mine. Your fake doll blood"—I drag my thumb along her collarbone, then suck on what little blood I gathered on my finger—"is mine. "

She blinks once.

I resume the task of tying the rope around her other wrist. "My property."

Her wrists are bound, the ropes dangling off each of them to the floor. I grasp onto one of them, tugging her arm up, just over her head. In this position, her elbow bends to the side like a real marionette's would.

I control her. I hold it up there.

Her lack of resistance fuels my obsession. My depraved proclivities.

As mesmerizing as she is, something's amiss.

Oh, yeah. Her head placement is too human-like.

"Tilt your head to the side," I order, my voice hoarse with lust.

Leighton does as instructed. It's not enough.

"Leighton, dolls don't have spines. They don't have muscles securing their heads in place." My jaw clenches. My need to inflict pain and take without consent consumes me. "Tilt. Your. Head."

She reaches her limit, then angles her head toward me. Her parted lips are an inch from her shoulder. Her eyes staring forward at my chest, hair dangling on one shoulder.

Perfect.

"Look at me."

Slowly, her gaze shifts to mine.

"Good girl. That's what I meant." I let go of the rope. "That's my good girl."

Her hand flails, dropping to her side. I repeat the motions with her other arm, holding it up and watching her from above .

"You're doing so well." I explore this ultimate power I have over her, raising and dropping her arms. Soaking in her body's reactions to me. "I'll reward your needy little pussy soon. I'll drive my cock all the way in. Make it hurt. Would you cry, plaything?"

She says nothing, and I continue praising and degrading her. With every word, she gasps louder, her body breaking into tremors.

I let loose of her arm one last time when I feel like I'm losing it. When our game starts torturing me as much as it does her.

"We'll return to this scene sometime in the future." I flip Leighton, walking her to the bed. I bend her over. Mash the side of her face on the mattress. Yank the skirt of her dress up. "I need to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you."

I can't get my dick out fast enough, gripping both ropes to bring her arms behind her back. Using one hand, I haul her up by her hips and push inside her.

I'm desperate for my woman to be with me. For Leighton to be awake, fully aware of what a good girl she was. How insane she makes me.

I snap my fingers.

She's sucked out of her trance, gasping in shock, then in arousal. I don't stop pounding into her, hard and relentless and reverent. I tug on the ropes lightly, getting off on the pain and lust on her face. The part of it I see, anyway.

"You're going to come with me." I emphasize the command by spanking her ass twice. "Now, plaything. Fucking now . "

Her submission is immediate, and we both finish at the same time. I push deep into her, my primitive need to claim and mark her ever strong.

Eventually, when I'm all spent, I pull out. I'm careful and cautious. My hands are always on Leighton as I stand, then come to sit beside her. As I roll her to the side to face me. I relieve her of the ropes, pleased to see red marks adorning her wrists.

"You've been so good." My words are as soft as my touch. I move Leighton up the bed with me, tuck us under the cover, and pin her back to my chest. "How are you?"

"Good." Leighton snuggles deeper into the warmth I offer, sounding breathless and exhausted. "Really good."

"That's good." I kiss her temple. "That's all I've wanted coming here. Make it hurt so good that you fall right back asleep."

One of my hands travels to her navel, drawing circles over Leighton's stomach. Over the spot where maybe, just maybe, grows a new, exciting part of our lives.