Page 128 of Plaything

He smirked. “You did so well, Doll,” he praised. “Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can go to bed,” he informed before scooping me up, with his dick still inside me.

I wrapped my legs around him as he began walking to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and stepped in with me. “This might feel strange,” he prompted before slowly pulling out of me. There was a strange pain, followed by an empty feeling, and then stickiness covered my thighs as our cum leaked down my legs.

Securely holding me around my waist, Aiden helped me wash away any mess that had been made. Even in my tired, satisfied, happy state, I noticed something. There was no blood. I desperately didn’t want to think about what that meant—part of me knew. I had a hunch earlier, and this was a possible confirmation of that suspicion.

“Odette?” Aiden lifted my chin.

“Huh?” I blinked a few times up at him.

“You look upset,” he deadpanned. Concern was written all over his face, and I’d hate for him to think my expression had anything to do with him. My thoughts just got away from me for a moment.

“I’m just tired, I promise,” I added a smile.

He didn’t seem convinced, but he turned off the water and helped me out anyway. He bundled me up in a towel, put his boxers back on, and put an oversized T-shirt on me. I definitely felt more of that tenderness now than I did earlier. Standing was a little uncomfortable, so I tried to limit my movements.

“Want me to carry you?” Aiden asked with a teasing smirk, gesturing to my crooked walk as we exited the bathroom.

“Could you?” I laughed and gave him a cheesy grin.

Something on the bed caught my attention, and I looked past him. I pressed my hands against my chest, relief filling me as I saw the red stain on the sheets.

Aiden followed my eye-line and placed his hand on my waist. “Don’t worry about it, Doll. It’ll wash out,” he assured gently, probably thinking I was embarrassed by the blood. I was the farthest thing from embarrassed; I was relieved. Charles’ business partners may have touched me, but I was never raped. I felt sad that I needed to be happy about that, but I was.

Lost in thought, it took me too long to notice how Aiden’s expression changed from soft to knowing as he looked between the sheets and myself. His eyebrows fell, hooding his eyes and darkening his features. Every bone in my body knew that he’d somehow figured it out. My staring at the stain for too long for a few seconds told him everything he needed to know.

Needing a quick change, I averted my eyes to the ground before taking his hand in mine and leaving my room to go to his. Although he seemed worried and conflicted, he scooped me into his arms and carried me to his bed.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” I whispered to Aiden as I cuddled into his side. I couldn’t tell him or any of them tonight; I just needed to sleep. I was happy. I finally had sex with one of the most drool-worthy, sweet men I’d ever met. I didn’t want anything to put a damper on our night.

He turned on his side, facing me. “You can tell us anything, Odette. I don’t know what happened tonight, what you dream about, or why you looked at the sheets with relief. It’s not good for you to keep everything to yourself, Doll,” he spoke softly.

Chapter Eighteen

Aiden

My mind was an elaborate map of pinboards, photos, and red string as I tried to make sense of everything. Odette revealed so little of herself and her thoughts that I only had suspicions to base my evidence on.

My suspect list was short, but I was confident they were somehow tied together. Her dreams, her father, the dinner, sleepwalking, her earlier verbiage ‘fuck me thoughtless,’ and presumed sexual assault.

I couldn’t get her expression out of my mind when she saw the blood on her sheets. She looked surprised for a split second, then relief so substantial that it visibly relaxed her shoulders. It explained her solemn attitude in the shower, where she must have been looking for a sign that virginity was lost—that she was indeed a virgin.

Something happened to her. I was more than confident of it. I didn’t understand how she didn’t know if she was a virgin or not. Her suspicion, realization, or actual happening must have been recent because only weeks ago, she said the only way she could have gotten an STD was from a toilet seat, for God’s sake.

Not knowing something has always filled me with a void. I knew everything, even the things I didn’t necessarily want or need to know. My intuition and quick thinking rarely failed me. Not knowing what happened to her tonight was killing me.

One thing I was sure of, if my hunch was correct, and a man or woman had laid a finger on my girl, I would go to prison. Odette was horrendously wealthy, widely known across the state, young and beautiful, and, as much as I hated to admit it, with her lack of muscle and obliviousness—an easy target. With all the money her father had, I was shocked she didn’t have some kind of protection or bodyguard. I had never thought about it before because I didn’t need to until now, but the girl was a moving target.

If someone touched her, I’d have to become an expert at hiding a murder scene overnight, or I’d happily go to prison.

My blood boiled, and I continued to fight the urge to wake her up and start my interrogation now. It’d been over an hour since we’d come to bed. She fell asleep almost instantly, exhausted and probably emotionally drained from whatever put her into a frenzy tonight.

For a while, I held her close, basking in the fact that I finally got to have her. Fuck, she was so tight and silky. If I wasn’t careful, there was a chance that I’d never stop fucking her once I started. Her little moans and sighs, and the way her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me further into her greedy cunt as I spilled my seed into her—the memory had my cock pulsing, craving her again.

Despite my investigation, confusion, and thoughts of manslaughter, I couldn’t stop myself from needing her.

Like a teenage boy, I found it challenging to focus on anything other than her dripping pussy. God, I wanted to tear her in half. Tonight was amazing, but it wasn’t my idea of fucking. I was slow and gentle and only took her in one position. Hell—I didn’t even smack her ass. I deserved kudos for how restrained I was.

Depending on what she tells us tomorrow, and if everyone was still up for it after that conversation, I would get what I wanted tomorrow. I wanted tears streaming down her face as I spat into her slutty mouth, the sound of her desperate cries pleading me to slow, overwhelmed by orgasm after orgasm. I craved her destruction.

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