Page 26 of The Dollhouse

I was not a very patient man.

Carter had Zoey waiting in the front. She wore a loose t-shirt, along with leggings that hugged her legs so tightly they left nothing for the imagination. I bet she wore no underwear beneath them. And those damned pink shoes. She wandered around, studying the lobby of my home as if she’d never been in a place so nice.

She had. She came from Hillcrest, and from looking into it and her family, she came from wealth. Maybe not as much wealth as I had at my disposal, but she was not poor. She was not destitute; she simply left all she could behind when she ran because of her sister’s and boyfriend’s betrayal.

Carter stood off to the side, his arms crossed. The moment I walked in, he did not notice me right away, his gaze lingering on her. He was never a man to show his emotions on his face, never one to admit his feelings to anyone, especially himself. I knew he would die for me and do it gladly, but he would never say so out loud to me; it was fine. Some things were better left unsaid.

Zoey was the one who noticed me first, and when she did, Carter turned his head to me, too. Both their eyes were on me, and I gestured for Carter to leave us, which he did—albeit begrudgingly. I knew him well enough to know he hoped for a little punishment that would involve his dick.

As Carter left, I walked to Zoey’s side, offering her my arm. “Come,” I said, “you and I need to discuss a few things.”

Her full lips puckered, but she said nothing as she slipped her hand through my arm and let me lead her through my home. I took her to my office, where the walls were painted dark and the lighting was dim. No windows, only a lone desk, along with a small sofa near the bookcases. I didn’t spend much time here, but every man should have his own office.

I sat Zoey on the couch, saying nothing for a while as I went to lean my backside on the outer edge of my desk. I met her questioning eyes, holding her stare for the longest while. She was smart enough to know why she was here, and yet I knew I would have to spell it out for her.

Let’s start slowly.

“How did you like your new furnishings?” I questioned, my lips barely moving with the words. It took everything in me to do this slowly, to not jump to the chase immediately.

“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” Her expression read that she wasn’t impressed; coming from Hillcrest, I supposed material belongings wouldn’t impress her, but I’d be damned if she lived in that hole without an actual mattress. “Plus, I don’t remember ever telling you where I lived.”

“You didn’t need to,” I told her, unashamed of what I’d done. I’d done a lot worse in my life than buy a beautiful girl some new furniture. “I know everything there is to know about you, Zoey. There is nothing in your life you can hide from me, not anymore.”

That should’ve been all she needed to hear to know what this abrupt meeting was about.

When she said nothing, I pushed off my desk, moving to where she sat. I leaned down over her, holding my hands on the back of the sofa, watching as she reclined back to let me tower over her, hovering, watching, waiting. Her lips parted, the blue in her gaze glazing over immediately.

Oh, I had power over her, that much was obvious. It was intoxicating.

“You’re mine, Zoey Marbella, don’t you ever forget that,” I whispered, feeling the blood pumping faster in my body.

“I never agreed to you controlling every aspect of my life,” she started, but the moment I smirked, she stopped.

I leaned down to her, pressing the side of my cheek against her forehead, feeling her cool skin against mine, whispering into her ear, “When you’re mine, you’re mine. Every single part of you is mine. What you do in your spare time, what you dream about, what you think about—all of it pertains to me, because you belong to me now. Do you understand that, Zoey?”

She gulped, squirming on the leather sofa beneath my towering frame. “And if I say no? That I change my mind and I don’t want to be yours?”

Moving my face away from hers, I stared at her so hard she might just self-combust. “That is not something you get to recant. You’re mine now whether you want to be or not, and if you run, I will find you. I will hunt you to the ends of the earth if I have to—do not mistake my desire for you as a weakness.”

Zoey looked like she wanted to argue, to be her usual defiant self, so my hand found her neck the next moment, gripping it hard enough to stifle the air from her lungs just a bit. Just enough to stop her from saying anything stupid.

The pleasure I gave almost always went hand-in-hand with pain.

As I held onto her neck, I hissed, “You understand that means your body is not your own.” Using my other hand, I trailed fingers down her face, past her tits, feeling her trembling with yearning under me. “This,” I whispered, cupping the space between her thighs, rubbing her slit through her leggings and making her practically mewl, “is mine. Mine to touch, mine to taste, mine to give.”

Zoey said nothing, but I knew the way her body reacted to my touch, she could not deny anything I said.

“I know all about your neighbor,” I spat, frowning at her. “Seems like a nice guy.” I increased the pressure I applied to her between her thighs, pushing my palm against her harder, feeling her clit through her leggings. The hand holding her neck loosened, though I did not release it entirely. “I would hate to see him lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding out as cars drove by, unaware he was dying. Wouldn’t you?”

Though I had the upper hand here, though Zoey had no leg to stand on in this conversation, she still managed to say, “Don’t threaten him—” Awfully protective of her neighbor, when she was supposed to be mine and mine alone.

Baring my teeth at her, I growled out, “You don’t get to tell me what to do. That honor is mine. You will not see Lake again—you will not invite him into your apartment ever again, do you understand?” I withdrew myself from her, walking back to my desk. “I’ll be having Carter watch over you on the days I don’t need him, just to make sure you’re behaving.” I shot her a glare. I had the feeling she’d be a wild one, and she was constantly proving me right.

Zoey sat quietly for a while, her eyes on fire as she watched me. Her cheeks were pink, my prior closeness to her having caused her body to react in a certain way. Suddenly she stood up, jerking to her feet as she held her hands on her hips, giving me the most attitude she could muster. She walked before me, her feet drawing her closer almost too insolently.

She stopped when she stood before me, her full, inviting lips turning down in a frown. “I wasn’t aware this was a master-slave scenario,” she said, glowering. The expression didn’t sit well on her face, but I let her have her time. Soon enough she would learn that I meant every single word I said; Roman Russo did not make needless threats. “Maybe you should’ve been clearer about that in the beginning. I’m not an object you can own.”

I waited until she was done, listened to her feisty words, feeling a smile start to creep along my face. There was a time and place for that, and here and now was not it. “Shall I fetch Carter and remind you that you belong to me in every way? The sooner you realize this, the more enjoyable it will be for you.”

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