Page 92 of Cracked Doll

Is he dreaming about me?

The thought sends a rush of heat straight to my core. My psychotic, obsessive stalker is having a wet dream about me while I’m right here. I bite my lip to keep from moaning as he thrusts again, harder this time, the head of his cock nudging against my clit with every pass.

I spread my legs just a fraction and he grunts in frustration when the friction disappears. Before I can second-guess myself, I reach down, wrap my fingers around his thick shaft, and line him up with my entrance. The next thrust sinks him straight into me.

“Fuck—” The word slips out of him, slurred and dreamy. “Ophelia… mine… always mine… my cracked doll…”

His hand clamps onto my hip, yanking me back against him as he starts fucking me in his sleep. Hard, fast, relentless. Each thrust slams deep, the wet sound of my cunt taking him filling the dark room. I have to bite down on the pillow to muffle my own sounds because Christ, it feels so fucking good. I don't want to wake him while I'm still enjoying his wet dream. He’s using me exactly how he needs, pounding into me with desperate, animal rhythm.

“Ophelia… never letting you go… gonna keep you… breed you… fill you up every night…” The words tumble out between moans, half-formed and psychotic even in sleep. His cock drags against that perfect spot inside me with every brutal thrust. I’m shaking, thighs trembling, trying so hard to stay quiet while he fucks me like a man possessed.

The orgasm crashes over me so hard I nearly black out. I scream into the pillow, cunt clenching and pulsing around him as I come all over his cock. My whole body jerks with it, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps driving into me, chasing his own release in whatever dream has him this worked up.

When he comes, it’s with a broken, guttural moan. His cock jerks inside me, flooding me with hot, thick spurts that seem to go on forever. The force of it actually wakes him. I feel him go still behind me, his hand going limp on my hip, his breathing ragged.

For a long minute there’s nothing but silence and the wet sound of his half-hard cock still buried inside my dripping cunt.

“Ophelia?” His voice is rough, confused, barely above a whisper in the dark.

“Yeah?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds. Then, “What the fuck just happened?”

I can’t help the little giggle that escapes me. “I think you had a dream.”

“And I fucked you while I was sleeping?”

“Real good, too.”

He exhales sharply, almost a laugh, but there’s something darker underneath it. His hand tightens on my hip again. “Christ. You’re so deep in me I’m fucking you in my sleep now. Can’t even escape you when I’m unconscious.”

His fingers flex against my skin like he’s testing if this is real. Then he notices how wet I am, how my thighs are sticky with my own release mixed with his cum still leaking out around his cock.

“You came,” he says, voice low and awed and completely unhinged. “I made you come even while I was asleep. Fuck, that’s—” He cuts himself off with a groan, already starting to harden again inside me. “That’s how much you own me, isn’t it? Even my dreams belong to you.”

His hand slides up under the shirt, rough palm cupping my breast, thumb dragging over my nipple. He starts thrusting again, slow and deliberate this time, pushing his cum deeper into me with every roll of his hips.

I moan in pure pleasure. “Rhys—fuck.”

“Gonna fuck you awake now,” he murmurs against the back of my neck, teeth grazing skin. “Gonna make sure you're mine, even when I’m not conscious to claim you.”

His cock is already thickening again inside me, the half-hard length swelling against my slick walls as his hand cups my breast under the shirt. I can feel every inch of him, the way he pulses and grows, pushing deeper with each slow roll of his hips. My cunt is dripping, his cum from before still leaking out around him, making everything wet and filthy.

"Fuck, look at you," he murmurs against my neck, voice still rough with sleep. "Soaked through. You really did come all over my cock while I was dreaming, didn't you?"

I bite my lip as he pinches my nipple, rolling it between his fingers. His thrusts are deliberate now, each one pushing his cum deeper into me before dragging back out. The wet sound of it fills the dark room.

"Rhys—"

"Shh." His teeth graze my shoulder. "Let me feel what I did to you."

He pulls out slowly, and I whimper at the loss. Before I can protest, he rolls me onto my back and climbs over me, knees pushing my thighs apart. In the darkness I can just make out the shape of him, the glint of his eyes as he looks down at me.

"Spread wider," he orders, and I do, letting my knees fall open. He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head through my folds, coating himself in the mess we've made. Then he pushes back inside in one smooth thrust, bottoming out so deep I gasp.

This time he doesn't hold back. His hips snap forward, fucking me hard enough that the headboard knocks against the wall. Each thrust knocks the breath from my lungs. My cunt clenches around him, still sensitive from the orgasm I had while he slept, but I don't want him to stop. I want him to use me exactly like this.

"Mine," he growls, one hand braced beside my head while the other stays under the shirt, squeezing my breast. "Even in my fucking sleep I can't stop claiming you. Can't stop thinking about this tight little cunt taking every inch of me."