Page 59 of Little Puppet

Removing my pants and shirt, I get into the bed, sliding beneath the covers with Grace and snuggling close.

The feel of her cuddling against me lulls me beneath a thick, clotted fog of complacency as I close my eyes.

“Goodnight, darling.”

“God!”I shoot awake with a scream, unsure of why I’m screaming in the first place, until I look down into the hazel eyes of the blonde beauty with her mouth on my cock.

I stretch out, jutting into her mouth deeper. “Fuck, puppet. Good morning to you, too.”

Her piercings gleam in the sun streaming through the windows, and I regretfully eye them. I hadn’t known I’d keep her with me, and now she’s got them for the rest of her life. Of course, I could remove them all, but there’d be scars.

“Use them,” she says, pulling her mouth off my length, spit trailing her chin. “Tug on them,” she adds.

The thought of being who I am two weeks out of the year while actively trying to be who I am the rest of the time makes my heart race even faster.

“No. I can’t be… No.”

She wipes her mouth, climbing over me to straddle my lap. Looking down at me with fevered eyes, she asks, “Why? You put them there, yet now you look at them like they disgust you.”

I run my hands over her piercings, some of them shifting as I glide past. She hisses as if it feels good, head lolling back.

“I didn’t know I’d want to keep you, little puppet.”

“So?” she counters. “We’re going back to that house next year, right? They will be there for when we go back.” She leans down, her lips gamboling close to mine. “For when you make me dance for you again.”

A lunatic-driven chuckle heaves from me before I can staunch it. I clear my throat, trying to fight the war between good and evil in my chest. “What are you doing? What game are you playing this morning?” I ask her, grabbing her shoulders and straightening her, pushing her away from my lips for my own sanity.

“It’s no game. I’m only trying to reconcile the man you are here with the man you were there.”

Just as I thought, she’s confused.

“Think of it like two personalities, Grace. I can’t be him while I’m here. He’s not accepted by society.”

She reaches between us, standing my dick up and teasing it through her wet cunt. Now I’m the one hissing.

“But he’s accepted here. With me.”

Her words mean nothing, even if it’s enticing to think I could come home each night and take off the mask I wear for the world. It would never work.

“Stop pushing me,” I grit out as she slides down my length with her hungry center, heat, and tight muscles enveloping me.

She grabs my hand, leading it to her throat. “Choke me, master. Come on. You stole me for this. You ran me off the fucking road, pierced me, strung me up like a fucking toy, and ruined me. I can’t go back to the world,Cain. You’ve changed me. I’m fucking ruined!” she screams her words at me, rage filtering through her voice as tears stream down her cheeks.

She hasn’t stopped riding my cock, and it’s a high all its own, rivaling her words and tears.

“Stop,” I plead, feeling the mental wall in my brain attempting to shatter.

It can’t. I don’t know who I am without the structure of how I live and how I’ve survived for so many years.

“You have to stop,” I tell her.

She grips my hand around her throat. “No. I don’t. You did this to me. You did this to us. You want me to embrace this life and be your good little fuck puppet; you do the same. Or I’m leaving, Cain.”

Her words rattle me, and the wall I’ve built to keep others safe, to keep myself in check, breaks. As bricks tumble down and dust permeates my mind, I grip her throat firmly, flipping us over and driving into her at a bruising pace.

“You’re going nowhere, puppet. You are mine,” I growl, watching her eyes turn heady and fill with bliss.

“I’ll leave,” she manages. “I’ll walk away and never come back.”

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