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“Molls?” His voice comes from the doorway as he enters the apartment. He’s dressed in his faded black, torn jeans which hug his lean muscled thighs, and a white wife beater which gives me a delicious view of his inked flesh, and his black steel toe boots. A cigarette hangs from his lips as his blue eyes scan me. “What’s up, baby girl?” He sets the two mugs of coffee down, the early morning sun just rising on the horizon as he sits opposite me.
“I’ve been thinking,” I tell him. “It’s been years. I mean, we’ve been together most of our lives. And…”
My words trail into nothing because I don’t know how to say it—how to ask him what I’ve been wanting to ask since my birthday. I’m twenty-five, and even though there are times I’m not here, but inside my head somewhere, I still want the same things any normal girl does.
“You know you can ask me anything,” he tells me, covering my hands with his as he watches me through the plumes of smoke rising from his cigarette.
“I want to get married.” I blurt out without thinking about it too much.
He’s silent for a long while before he smirks. “What my Sweet Molls wants, she gets.” His words are filled with happiness when he rises and pulls me into his arms. “Perhaps our families can come witness it. I’m sure Gigi would want them there,” he informs me. I know if my uncle does come to the wedding, I’m going to have to tell Pike what happened. Even though my dad is dead, my uncle knows, and he’ll do anything to steal me away from his son. I’m going to have to confess why I am the way I am.
The Factory
Molly
“Sweet Molls,” his voice is raspy with sleep as I roll over to find daddy staring at me. His one arm bent under his head, the other is draped over his inked torso. “I think we need to go out today,” he tells me, his eyes staring up at the ceiling now. I’m always the one who wants to head out and go on adventures, but this time he’s the one initiating it.
“And where are we going to go?” I ask, leaning the top half of my body over his.
“There’s one special place I want to take you. It’s somewhere you’ve never been, but I think you’ll enjoy it. And you can bring Gigi,” he smirks. The corner of his mouth kicks up into a grin that makes me squeeze my thighs together. My finger twirls along the ink on his stomach, making its way down to his cock.
“Oh? And where are we going?” I question, my mind already forgetting what he’s talking about when I find his thick shaft jutting up at me. Smiling, I lap at the tip, tasting the clear liquid that’s weeping for me. Wrapping my lips around the mushroom head, I suck it into my mouth, reveling in his taste.
“Do I taste better than him?” his question stills me for a moment, and I allow my gaze to slide to his. I know my frown is not the answer he wants, but I’m not sure how to respond. “Do I, baby girl?”
“Who, Daddy?” My words are raspy, and he can see the confusion in my expression. I don’t know what or who he’s talking about. I’ve only ever been with one person, and that’s Pike. Unless…
“Tobias,” he grits out.
My brows shoot together. “What do you mean?”
“The other day, when you licked his cock before slicing it off.” And then I hear it. Pike’s jealousy. He’s never seen me fuck anyone else. Yeah, we’ve done some shit, but I’ve never let any man inside me.
“Are you jealous?” I smile, hope springing in my chest. Pike shakes his head, gripping my long blonde hair and shoving my head down on his dick.
“You’re mine, Molls,” he grunts, his hips rising up as he fucks my face. Spit drips from my chin as I allow him to use me. “Mine. All. Fucking. Mine.” He continues to chant those words as his thick cock slides into my throat, again and again.
It doesn’t take long for him to shoot his release down my throat. When he finally let’s me up, he pulls me over him and kisses me violently. His tongue darts into my mouth, dancing with my own as he tastes himself. I’ve never seen this side of Pike. He’s always been the calm one. The level headed one.
“You make me crazy for you, Molls. But you’re mine.”
“I’ve always been yours.”
He nods. Nothing more is said as we get ready to go out. My mind runs a million miles a second, trying to figure out what Pike could possibly have planned. I’m prickling with anticipation as I rummage through my closet, before I decide on my torn fishnet tights, a pair of black denim cut offs, and my white Anarchy tank top. Pike is packing a small back pack, but I can’t see what he’s shoving inside. My curiosity is at an all time high and I am tempted to grab it from him to sneak a peek inside.
