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“Like hell, you will!” she retorts. “I’m not being dressed up by you like some little doll. I’ll be picking out my own clothes.”
“But I like you being my little doll, Indigo. My little fuck doll, in particular. I like dangling you from my hard dick. And I like dressing you up for my amusement almost as much as I like undressing you.”
“Stop it,” she chuckles.
“What are you wearing?”
“That line’s older than you are,” she teases.
“You know, I will drive over there, Miss Nilsson, and tend to that impertinent mouth of yours in person.”
“Mmm… is that a promise?”
“It’ll only take me twenty minutes.”
“What, the driving or tending to my mouth? If it’s the latter, that seems a bit stingy.”
I smile, picturing the taunting expression she pulls when she’s pushing my buttons—the way she bites her lip, the way she peers up at me sheepishly to see what I’ll do, as if afraid I’ll pounce—something I constantly restrain myself from doing. How I haven’t fucked her fifty times over in every hole yet is a mystery to me.
Or maybe not…
While I’ve never felt such a desperate urge to defile someone until she’s a quivering wreck, barely able to move nor speak, I also battle the all-consuming yearning to keep her safe.
Part of that means proving to myself that I’m capable of protecting her despite my urge to see her vulnerable and desperate for safety; my urge to keep her tied up for hours in such a way that I can pleasure myself with her all day long; to sink my teeth into her neck.
The thought of thoroughly and deeply defiling that mouth of hers for the first time has my cock lying hard against my abdomen, it’s lines and curves illumined by the waxing moon.
I glance over at the clock. Just past eleven p.m. There’d be no traffic. “If I drive very fast, I could probably get over there in fifteen minutes.”
“No,” she giggles. “We need to spend some nights apart. It’ll do us good. Those wereyourwords! Besides I’m hoping we’ll be spending the night together after we see your parents? I think I’ll need the stress relief.”
“Oh, I already have plans for that,” I reply. “And props ready to accomplish it.”
The ghost of a moan floats upon her sigh, the sweet noise making me harden further.
“Well, I think the thought of thosepropsshould make dinner with your parents more beara—Fuck.”
I sit up instantly, the panic in her hoarse exclamation raging through my system like a stampede of wild horses. Every cell in my body lights up when she is truly afraid. I can’t stop it. It incites something primal inside me that no amount of rational thought can suppress.
“What is it?”
I hear nothing but heavy breathing, twisting my torso so that my legs are off the bed, ready to take me to her place. “Indigo.”
“Shit… sorry,” she mutters breathlessly.
“What is it?”
“There was a bang outside, and then… I saw a shadow cross my curtains.”
“I’m on my way,” I reply urgently.
“What?! No! It’s nothing.”
“Indie,” I warn.
“It’s nothing. I just peeked out. There’s no one there. It must have been a possum or a raccoon or something.” The fear in her voice pulses through my veins.
“An animal big enough to cause a shadow on your curtains?”
