Page 52 of The Dollhouse

Things with… that Lake were not as easy, though.

Zoey and I had a little chat after I took her, and it was enlightening, to say the least. I thought back.

My cock was still hard, still itching for another round at her, but I kept it tucked away in my pants as I returned to my seat on the other side of the room, watching with keen interest as Zoey fixed herself, made it look like she and I had not just fucked against the wall like animals.

She’d felt… she’d felt just as amazing as I knew she would, tight on my dick, her body made for me.

Zoey ran a hand through her pink hair, breathing out evenly, trying to slow it down. She’d gotten just as lost in me as I had in her; it was good to know, even under her defiance, I affected her so much.

Don’t get me wrong, I was still pissed at what happened while Carter and I were out of town—of course I had cameras put in her furniture, just to keep an eye on her. You never knew when something like that would come in handy—but I supposed, albeit begrudgingly, she was right in some respects.

Lake was there when I wasn’t. He could give her things I could not. I was not so thrilled about either of those facts, especially the second one, because I was under the impression I could give her anything and everything.

But I couldn’t. I would never be a twenty-year-old boy masquerading as a man, geeky and awkward. I would never be a kind man; I would always be abrasive and harsh, my words and my actions often considered rude or evil or what have you.

Zoey’s voice rose in the room, bouncing off its empty walls, “I meant what I said before, Roman.” She stood before me, folding her arms over her chest, back to her usual self—and how I enjoyed it. She really was a brat, but I liked her all the same. I needed to keep her, needed to have every piece of her.

Not just that curvy, sexy body.

I wanted her heart, her soul, her mind. I wanted everything she had to give, and in order to do that, I had to at least hear her out and not outright murder that Lake… even though I really, really wanted to kill him.

And when I said I wanted to kill him, I meant that I would in a heartbeat if I knew Zoey would eventually forgive me for it. But, staring into her eyes, I knew she wasn’t lying when she said I’d never have her fully if I hurt him.

So, I would play nice. For now. Until that fucking Lake fucked up and I put a bullet in his skull for fucking retribution, all with Zoey’s blessing.

“Don’t hurt him,” she added, as if I needed clarification on what she meant. “I like him.”

I ground my teeth, itching to get my hands around Lake’s throat and choke the life out of him, watch the light drain from those eyes and be the last thing he saw before he died. “What would you have me do, then? Would you have me let him go, pretend as if none of this happened?”

She nodded. “Yes. No more kidnapping.”

I scoffed. “And, what? You would still continue to see him? Do you think that boy would even want to continue to see you while knowing you’re mine?”

Zoey shrugged. “I don’t know, but I owe it to myself to figure it out.” Such honest words, words I knew she meant with her whole being. After discovering her ex with her sister, she wanted to find herself. I’d thought that, perhaps, she would find herself with me.

But maybe I wasn’t what she needed.

Or, perhaps, maybe I wasn’t theonlything she needed.

She breathed in hard, sighing softly as she went on, “I would never pretend to know what you think, how you feel, but… I don’t want to be just another possession to you, Roman.” It must’ve taken some gall to say that to me, and I was pretty sure I detected a waver in her voice. Standing up to me was not easy; most who knew what was good for them did no such thing, and they lived longer and happier lives because of it.

This girl, though… this girl was different, as she always had been.

“Go on,” I told her, resting my chin on a fist as I leaned to the side, my knees spread. The chair beneath me was comfortable, and yet I wanted to leap to my feet, sweep her into my arms, and carry her to my bedroom, bring Carter along, have him take her while her panties were stained with my cum. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to be the only one you watch,” she said. “I don’t want you to pull other girls at the Dollhouse, or anywhere.”

I tilted my head, giving her a frown. “Surely you see how hypocritical that is.” She wanted me to remain faithful to her while she went off and continued to see Lake? How on earth was that fair?

Zoey met my frown with one of her own. “I’m not saying I’m going to go out and fuck anyone I want. I’m saying I want to see Lake.”

That was not a deal I would consider making with anyone; Zoey was truly special to me, for me to even think about it.

“Give me two days,” I said, “and I’ll have an answer for you.” She said if I forced her to choose, she would choose none of us out of spite, and I believed she would do just that. However, before I could even think to agree, there was something I needed to do.

Here’s a hint: it involved Lake.

Here I was, sitting in the Dollhouse, waiting for Carter to come back with the boy. Zoey took issue with me calling him a boy, but to me, that’s what he was, and what he would forever remain. If Zoey wanted to continue seeing the boy when she was not with me, he would be put to the test.

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