3. CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

Marcus

T hose gentle, hushed footsteps always give her away.

It's cute that she thinks I can't hear her approaching my bedroom. So fucking cute when she does her best to creep up on me unnoticed.

I know she's coming. I feel her even though I pretend to have my eyes closed. The new tattoo on my forearm stings, reminding me how mine she is.

My ears are trained on the sound of her feet padding outside my door. My nose picks up on the scent of her body mist—goddamn daisies —when she's close.

Our hearts are connected. So much so, that if hers ever stops, I'll drop dead right beside her.

I'm hard and possessive. Waiting. Impatient as hell, but I wait.

She's here .

Sleep Token's "Hypnosis" plays quietly over the speaker by my bed. Over the guitar and vocals, there's the sweetest melody of Leighton's inhales and exhales.

Over the last four plus years, I haven't always jerked off when she peeked into my room. On the days when I brought my patients' pain home with me from the clinic, I haven't touched myself.

I've pretended to sleep. Shamelessly listened to the sounds of Leighton's wet pussy as she touched herself. Reveled in her gasp when she orgasmed.

Tonight isn't one of those nights. Tonight, I'm here to play. To fuck with her senses like she fucks with mine.

It's a hardship to do it from my bed. Every cell in my body demands I fling my legs off the bed, chase Leighton, and take her the way I want.

Rough. Merciless. Painful.

Because there's no denying that's exactly what I want. The violence brimming inside me whenever I'm near Leighton is dangerous. The tools in my professional arsenal have done their job over the past four years. The monster's been contained.

But it won't last. I've done a lot of messed up crap to prove this point.

More of Sleep Token's songs keep playing when Leighton finally touches herself. The small "Ahh" is her tell. It's the sign that one or more of her fingers press to where she needs me the most.

Me.

At first, her breaths are long and languid. She's getting used to the feel, warming herself up .

I'm assaulted by the images of her clit from years ago. Pink and beautiful between her slightly parted thighs. How it peeked from between her pussy lips, teasing me to touch it. Begging for me to take it into my mouth.

Suck on it. Make Leighton scream. Drive her insane until she had no choice but to pull on my hair.

As the scene continues to unfold in my head, I wrap my fingers around my exposed, hard cock. They slide up and down. Root to tip. Pretending it's her mouth on me. When I choke her on my cock until she can't breathe.

This part of our game is the riskiest and twisted one. The one that turns me on more than anything.

I'm the closest to her when we're like that. I can almost feel my innocent virgin here. On my bed. Riding my cock. I would empty myself inside her. Fill her womb with my cum.

A thrill shoots through my spine at that. I found her pills in her suitcase two weeks ago. Contraception measures. I raged at the thought of someone else having his hands on her.

However, a quick scroll through their texts on Rylan's cloud proved that my jealousy was for nothing. Right before they graduated, Rylan informed Leigh that she had given a guy on campus a black eye for calling Leighton a frigid virgin.

A day after, I tempered with Leighton's pills. Changed them to a placebo I had in the clinic.

Thoughts of making her pregnant always make me come that. Much. Harder.

Returning to the present moment, I tug harder on my cock. I'm hard as a goddamn rock. So hard it hurts. And it scares her, my erection, my girth. I hear the shocked gasp when I slide my hand to the root and point my dick up.

The awed and frightened sounds set my core on fire every fucking time.

In a different world, under different circumstances, every inch of me would've possessed every hole of hers. I would've marked her pussy, her ass, her mouth. Would've shot my cum on her eyes, tits, her hair. She'd sit there, still and perfect, while I painted her in white.

Unfortunately, these were the cards we were dealt with. Nothing else could happen between us.

Fantasizing about Leighton being my doll is one thing. Having her silent and unmoving because she's fucking dead is a scenario I never care to entertain.

A hushed whimper cuts into my grim thoughts. My—yes, she'll always be goddamn my —Leighton drags me back to the present. Back to her.

She needs me. She won't admit to it, but she does.

And she'll get what she came here for.

I rub my cock, not being gentle as Leighton probably is with herself. Squeeze myself with every inch of my need. Groan loud since I know Ry's away.

"Fuck," I hiss. "You feel so good. So tight."

Another whimper. I hear her. I always will.

A decadent, forbidden scenario plays in my head.

Both of us are back in the bathroom. I stand over her, my black T-shirt and sweats covering my skin. She's frozen beneath me, naked and exposed to my hungry eyes.

My doll .

That day, I covered her and lowered my face to hers. Nearly kissed her.

In my fantasy—with her at my doorway and the breaths she's working hard to silence—the scene takes on a dark turn.

"You're not truly sorry for leaving the room unlocked, are you?"

My voice changes into the one I use in my hypnosis sessions. A suggestive voice that's intended to infiltrate her mind. The one I use to encourage her subconscious to come out and play.

She's not moving a muscle. My perfect little doll.

"Blink once for yes, twice for no."

Leighton remains frozen.

So I clarify it for her.

"While you showered, Leighton, you left the door unlocked as an invitation, didn't you?" I curl my fingers around the side of her neck. My fingertips drag along the soft roots of the hair at her nape, menacingly so. "Once for yes, twice for no."

I'm not surprised when she blinks once. There's no denying the underlying mutual attraction that's been simmering for years between the two of us.

"Bad little doll."

A tiny cry escapes her lips when I pinch her nipple.

"Tempting me"— twist— "teasing me"— pull— "while pretending to be such a good girl. While you've been hiding it from Rylan."

"Dr. Kingston, sir." Her eyes blink a couple of times, though not a muscle twitches on her soft face.

Putting someone into a trance without their consent is a violation of everything I believe in .

Then again, Leighton's the one who invited me in. Seduced me. She's begging me to do anything and everything I please while Rylan and Milo are outside. So close.

"Take a deep breath."

Her compliance is immediate.

"Hold it there." I watch her breasts press forward. An invitation if I ever saw it. I nod as if I expected her to say yes. As if I take that for granted. I'll never take her for granted. "That's better. Good. Let it out and relax."

Since this is a dream, everything happens at the speed I choose. She was already halfway into a trance, and now she's there.

"You're inside your body still. That's Leighton in there." One step closer, and her breasts brush against my chest. "You're also partly aware of everything around you. Enough to realize what we're doing. Not enough to stop me from using your body."

Her shoulders slump, and I catch her arms.

"You're going to be my good little doll. Make it up to me for being bad."

Mindfully, I spin her so she's facing the vanity mirror. I move with her, stand at her back.

"You want that, don't you?" I wrap my hand into her wet locks. "When I pull on your hair, you're allowed to speak."

When I tug, she squeaks a short, sweet, "Yes."

"Good girl."

Her upper body bends forward at the lightest pressure. My hands trail from her shoulder blades, to her arms, to her hands. Leighton is limbless, allowing me to arrange her. Hands flat on the vanity. Legs spread as I kick them apart.

In my room, in the real world, all of this is forbidden as hell. From my abhorrent fantasies to the show I'm putting on for Leighton. There's no questioning how fucked in the head I am.

Dr. Hatchett, my therapist, has a nicer choice of words for what this is.

I, on the other hand, don't have any illusions about what I am.

A forty-one-year-old man lusting after his daughter's best friend. A young woman nineteen years my junior.

I'm so sick to love her, to obsess over her. But I do.

So much so that for the last two weeks, I've been toying with the best and worst idea possible. A contingency plan in case Rylan keeps giving Leigh too much of her sickly-sweet attitude I've grown to recognize. For when Ry decides to use those NyQuil pills from the bottles she's been stocking on lately.

The more I play with the idea of locking Leighton away from Rylan and making her mine, the more appealing it gets. The less I'm keen on letting her slip through my fingers.

I know I should. The beast, on the other hand…

"You're going to be such a good doll for me," I grunt, returning to my fantasy.

Leighton's never left hers, as her soft moans and soaking cunt are all I hear.

"Baby." I slide two fingers along her cunt, dragging her arousal to her rim. She clenches, and I look at her reflection in the mirror. "Go deeper, Leighton. Deeper into that place where you're all mine. Your body is my vessel, and your soul is mine to play with. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

The suggestion settles her. I see her agreeing, blinking once in the mirror. It's so hot that I almost come. In both real life and fantasy.

I push a drenched finger inside her asshole. With my other hand, I free my cock that's throbbing for her. My wide tip parts her lips and Leighton's doll-like eyes widen in the mirror.

My virgin.

"Jesus, you're tight." My cock isn't even halfway inside her and her pussy has a death grip on me.

She's silent, and I remove my finger from her ass. While I thrust my hips forward, I tug on her rose-colored hair, allowing her to speak.

She whimpers just as I feel a new kind of wetness coating my dick. When I pull back, there's blood on my length. Her hymen. Jesus fuck.

"You're Daddy's doll." I gather her blood on the pad of my clean finger. "Daddy's fuck doll."

Leighton's lips are parted. They remain this way while I use her blood as lipstick on her lips, painting them red. What's left of it, I smear on her cheeks as I sink my cock deeper and harder into the girl who's been consuming my dreams for way too long.

"Perfect," I groan before my orgasm steals my breath from me.

Leighton's rugged exhale follows my climax. Her relief.

She can't go yet. I have things to say. Something to remember me by.

"Fuck, I want you." My eyes are trained on the ceiling. My heart is out in the hallway. "I've always wanted you. "

Another gasp rises over the music. It's louder than the hammering of my pulse between my ears.

That's it , I muse, as Leighton rushes off. She knows.

I grab a tissue from my nightstand. The new tattoo I got on my arm stings as it grazes on the bedsheet, but I don't grimace. I embrace the pain.

It's for her. For the woman I love.

There'll never be another woman for me.

While I'm still wondering if I can keep you, I most definitely own you.

For better or worse, you're mine.