Page 85 of The Dollhouse

And I did. I fucked her long and hard. I was past the point where I cared about leaving bruises on her body; if Zoey wanted to hurt after this session, she would. I couldn’t imagine being fucked against a tree was good for your bare skin.

Being inside her again, it felt like home. Like I’d finally found where I’d belonged. I used to think I didn’t care who I watched with Carter, but now there was only one girl I wanted to see being bent over and fucked madly like a cock-hungry whore. She was mine, ours, and that made it all so much sweeter.

Her core was wet and tight, milking my length with all she had. Soft, unfettered moans came from her, and the sounds only fueled me. My skin was on fire, every part of me aflame, and yet I dared not step away from her, pull out of her, just to take them off. It made this encounter that much fiercer.

“Come for me, Zoey,” I told her, pinning her to the tree with my hard steel. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted to be fucked.” I jerked into her, causing her to cry out. “You wanted to lose yourself, so now I’m telling you: fucking come on my cock, or you and I might never leave this forest.” It was a promise, for if I did not feel those walls of hers tightening around my length, I would stave off my own orgasm for as long as it took.

I could play for an eternity. This wasn’t a game to me.

Zoey whined, practically purring against me as I rammed into her, and it was almost like the girl could come on command—mycommand. I didn’t think anyone else could have her trained in the same way.

Her body spasmed against mine, a mixture of a swearword and a moan coming from her. Her eyelids fluttered shut the moment her arm slipped off my shoulder; no matter, I had a good hold of her now. I could hold her as I fucked her against the tree, watching as she unraveled while I speared her. Her pussy clamped down, her hips bucking of their own accord. Zoey came, and she came hard. That’s my girl.

A slight smirk crossed my face, but it vanished soon after, right when I started to move my hips a little harder. You could always go harder, always go faster. The more you did it, the better you got at it. Zoey had made me crave physical touch, not just voyeurism. I was no longer just a voyeur but instead an eager participant in claiming her lithe body.

My head bent down, and it was the moment her eyes opened and locked on mine that I felt my lower half start to lose it. All control, gone, just like that. My balls let loose everything they’d been holding back, every ounce of cum they’d built up from watching Carter have his way with her. My seed filled up her cunt, and then it filled it some more. An expression of bliss took over her features; it seemed Zoey enjoyed watching me unravel almost as much as I did her.

I breathed hard, measured in stepping back and letting her feet return to the ground. She swayed on her feet a bit, lightheaded from all of the fucking. I did not wait to put myself away, and once my still-hard cock was back in its place and my belt fixed, I ran a hand through my hair, looking at her.

Zoey put on her clothes with not a peep, cum dribbling down her inner thighs, certainly. She had no problems with anything below the waist, but her other clothing was more difficult, due to that arm.

I instructed Carter to help her, and then we returned to our cabin, where Lake waited for us on the couch. The moment we walked in, he glanced up, asking, “What took you so long?” Carter smirked, but I kept any comments to myself.

It was… difficult to not parade Zoey’s sticky thighs in front of him, though.

I did not particularly enjoy dealing with Fang—or any of his brood, really, because they were the epitome of unstable. The kind of people you would not want to deal with, unless you had to. His family was loyal to the Lucianos however, so I had to deal with him on occasion.

And, of course, he’d told us who’d shot up the Dollhouse, got us names, addresses… which I verified with the security footage from the club. Fang had pulled through, saved Carter and me from some grunt work.

Today was the day everything changed. The others were going after the men who hit up Viper and Big Mike’s place, while Carter and I would wait for nightfall, when the idiots who shot up the Dollhouse played their weekly poker game.

How I fucking detested poker, and any card games—which doubly sucked, because that’s all there was to do in those fucking cabins out in Nowheresville.

Carter and I sat in the car, just down the street from the warehouse where the poker games always were. Private, secluded, on the edge of town, in an abandoned industrial parkway. The poker games were not just where they gambled; from what I could find out about them, it’s where they discussed future jobs.

Jobs like shooting up clubs and harming innocent girls. The motherfuckers wouldn’t know what hit them.

Beside me, Carter grumbled, “I don’t see why we can’t take one or two of them, chain them up somewhere, and torture them for a week.” He wasn’t too thrilled with my plan, which was: storm in there, shoot them in the head, and walk out.

“Don’t you think I want to make them hurt for what they did to Zoey?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. “Don’t you fucking think I want to make them realize just how badly they fucked up before ending them for good?” I looked away, staring straight ahead at the road where the industrial parkway let out. The vehicle we sat in was off; no lights shining. They wouldn’t notice us with how far away we were.

Close enough to count them as they drove toward the warehouse, which was close enough for me.

“No, we go in there, get it done, and leave. Just be done with it.” Wrestling with the rage inside me, I added, “Assuming everything goes right tonight, this will be a new city tomorrow. We need to be ready to spring into action should Richie need us.”

Carter knew I was right, and that’s why he said nothing in response. Best to wash our hands of this tonight and know justice was served.

We waited, and then we waited. And after that? We waited some more. Night had fallen for hours by the time everyone arrived, and Carter and I waited even longer after that just to make sure they’d be in the middle of a game when we popped in. We’d been silent, planning in that fucking cabin for so long, they probably didn’t think we were coming.

But, in the end, they had to have known. Or maybe they assumed the Bloody Princess would take over the city, they’d become her henchmen, and they’d be safe. Safe they would never be, though, not after shooting my girl.

My fucking girl. For that, they’d die, drowning in their own blood.

Once I was certain everyone was there, I looked to Carter. I didn’t need to say a single word; he knew, and I turned on the car, keeping the lights off, driving the vehicle into the long-abandoned industrial parkway. I pulled up right next to their vehicles, and we got out quietly; neither of us slammed our door. Alerting them to our presence now would negate the effectiveness of a surprise attack.

And trust me when I said this was an attack they would not survive. I never really had much stake in the killing I did, in what Carter and I did together for Richie. Keeping the peace had always been what it was about, but after what happened, there would be no peace, not while the Bloody Princess still breathed. In that way, I agreed with Lola: attack them head-on, and don’t stop until the DeLuca line ran dry.

I reached behind me, under my suit jacket to retrieve the cold steel resting in my waistline. Carter did the same. We moved toward the door, our feet not making a sound on the concrete below. The place smelled of dirt, grime, and other stale things. It was not the kind of place I would ever want to hold games of poker, but then again, what the fuck did I know?

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