Page 94 of Guarded By the Phantom

I woke up a little before noon. I was still hard, still inside my doll, and she slept soundly, her breathing slow and deep. Her sweet pussy hugged me tightly, but sometime during the night, I’d slid partly out of her, so I thrust instinctively to bury my whole length in her.

“Fuck,” I murmured, jerking inside her.

She didn’t move, sleeping like a log, and good for her. My baby was tired, but I was horny. Good thing I didn’t need her awake for that.

“Such a good baby doll,” I whispered, fucking her in long, easy thrusts. “Letting me have her when I want. Letting me fuck this gorgeous body.”

I grabbed her tit, gently flicking her nipple. She murmured softly but didn’t wake, and I buried my face in her hair and inhaled, taking my wife to sate my lust.

“Only you,” I promised her, even though she couldn’t hear me. “I’ll forever fuck only you. Love only you. My sweet girl. I love your tight pussy. So good. Hope you’re having nice, pink dreams right about now, while your abomination man uses your sweet body.”

She stirred with a muffled moan, arching into me. I pinched her nipple harder and sped up, deciding to wake her up with an orgasm. My doll deserved all the pleasure in the world.

“That’s it, baby,” I growled, my hips flexing with helpless need. “Love the way you take me. So good. Such a pretty girl.”

Her muscles tightened around me, pulsing with an orgasm while she whined. I sped up, licking a path up her neck. She reached back to hold onto my hip, and I knew she was awake as I pounded into her until I came, my baby taking every drop.

“I love you,” I murmured into her hair.

“I love you,” she whispered, taking my hand to kiss my knuckles.

I stayed inside her until her stomach growled, making me shoot out of bed. She protested, but I was helpless to resist the instinct to take care of her. It was stronger than me, and so I dressed in record time and sprinted to the nearest café, tipping as much as the coffee cost in the hopes of making the barista rush my order. I grabbed her muffins, sandwiches, and cookies, and was back in the apartment in under ten minutes.

My baby smiled after I fed her, and then I fucked her again, making an excellent start to the first day of our life together.

Barbara’s Epilogue

“Oh, I love that dress! Can we go inside?”

Scarab stopped by the boutique, cocking his head to the side as he regarded the shopping window. His arms were laden with shopping bags that he carried with seemingly no effort, his posture straight and confident.

“Sure, baby.”

We went in. I tore into the racks, looking through the dresses, while he sat down in the armchair by the door, taking out his book. This one was a tentacle romance, with a woman tangled up in a kraken’s embrace on the cover. He read it without self-consciousness, his feet in combat boots spread wide. I smiled secretly when I saw how the shopping assistant looked between him and me, trying to figure out what two polar opposites like us were doing together.

I grabbed the dresses I liked and went over to the changing room. A moment later, heavy footfalls thudded on the floor, and my husband slipped inside with me. I grinned at him, taking off the dress I wore and flashing him my half-transparent, black bra.

“No touching,” I reminded him of the rules of our game in a whisper. “You can only look. And don’t make a sound.”

He nodded, his eyes shining pink as he pocketed his book. I ran my hands up my body with a saucy look. He released a long, shaky breath, his hands twitching by his sides, and I grinned. I knew exactly what would happen when we got home. After an entire day of teasing, he’d rail me all night long until my throat was hoarse from screaming, and I’d love every second of it.

For now, though, I got to torment him.

I slipped on the first dress, a frilly pink number that would be excellent for a public date. Paparazzi still followed me occasionally, and I loved the look of us in the papers so much, I started dressing up for the biggest impact.

After I wore this dress to an outing, we’d be pictured again, the bad, black abomination and his pink, blonde wife. I couldn’t wait.

“We’ll take this one,” I whispered, shimmying out of the dress as I turned my back to him. “Oh, what’s that?”

I bent over, picking up a piece of paper lying on the floor. Scarab released a quiet, tortured sound as I treated him to the sight of my black, lacy thong.

“All right, honey?” I asked, looking up, still bending at the waist.

“You’re so dead,” he whispered, the color in his eyes swirling, pink fighting with red.

A pleasant thrill ran down my spine. “Yeah? Promise?”

He nodded vehemently. I grinned and tried on the other things I brought. In the end, I only got the pink dress. The novelty of being able to buy and wear what I wanted was slowly wearing off, but I still had occasional urges to get new things, eat out at places that used to be forbidden, and do things that didn’t behoove an Ashford-Kingsley. My husband indulged all my whims. In fact, he indulged me so much, I gained some weight, my curves filling out in ways my mother would have hated.

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