Page 27 of Theirs to Chase

I can’t stand still. Panic rises in my throat, wanting to come forth as a shriek. Eerie music weaves through the theater, amplifying the atmosphere of an unfolding play. The strings binding my wrists tighten, lifting me higher until I’m forced to balance on my toes.

“The perfect little doll,” Zack whispers, sending something unknown shivering through me.

I hate that I feel like this about them both. Why am I drawn to their darkness?

Because you’re as twisted as them.

“Let me out of here!” I come to my senses, trying to get free of the restraints, but only ending up stumbling forward.

Eros is there to catch me, his innocent touch igniting a scorching heat within me that makes me squirm. When his green eyes meet mine, I become paralyzed, lost in a trance that is him. He’s as twisted as they come, yet his gaze communicates with me in ways nothing else ever has. It’s a beautifully macabre emotion of dread that spurs through me, transforming into something that wraps me into its embrace.

“Such a beautiful sight, begging for her masters.” Zack’s cruel voice filters over me, sending a wave of arousal to my core that I desperately try to resist.

“Do you like your audience?” he says, turning me over so I’m staring right out the auditorium.

I feel the gazes of the dolls, staring at me as if they were living things—they were, once upon a time.

“You’re fucking sick,” I grit out as Eros’s touch lingers on my skin, traveling between my thighs.

“So you keep saying,” he muses, hand continuing its exploration toward my clit.

“Your mind is fighting us—this—yet your body screams for the sinful touch only we can offer.” Zack chuckles, inching closer, hands splaying over my stomach from behind and trailing up to squeeze my breasts.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Feisty little thing.”

Eros’s fingers suddenly push inside me as Zack turns my head, lips meeting mine until I’m breathless, begging for both of them. I won’t ever admit that out loud.

“Mmmm.”

“Vackra lilla docka,”he murmurs, and I stare at him, grasping his words. “See how they look at you? They love the show you put up for them.”

I hear the sound of fabric rustling, before I feel his cock at my entrance, Eros following suit in front of me.

“You’re monsters,” I breathe through a hiss, pleasure building as Eros’s cock slides against my clit, making me crave more of the thrill.

“That we might be. But you’re our creation—our beautifuldocka,” Zack says as he bites my neck, and I close my eyes.

“Why do you do this?” I ask, needing to know. I’m a fucking mess, but I’m starting to realize that perhaps I’mtheirmess. They’ve claimed me in ways I could have never imagined.

“They thought they could escape justice.”

“You’re just as bad.”

“This world is twisted, Eveline,” Eros says, eyes zoning in on me. “The system is fucked up.”

“Exactly. You think those who commit heinous acts deserve to live without facing justice? We’ve taken it upon ourselves to serve that justice. What’s one evil act if it means removing all others?

I’m left speechless, because they’re right; those people don’t get the justice they deserve. But does it make it right for them totake justice into their own hands?

“Each doll we made represents a predator gone from the streets. See it as a trophy. It takes a certain mastering to do what we do, and Eros has become my little puppet, as you are now my pumpkin doll.”

A shiver crawls over my spine at his words. “And Elias? What did he do?”

Zack’s eyes darken. “Elias preyed on younger children, while giving off an innocent appearance. The way he looked at you…” he trails off, obviously disturbed by whatever it was he saw.

His words shock me, and my breath hitches as both of them press against me, my body taut against their godly sculptures.

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