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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.”
