Page 36 of Pretty Stolen Dolls

“I want to choke the shit out of my little dolly.”

Tears well in my eyes and I start to argue, but his palm wraps around my throat. His grip is tight and unyielding as he pounds into me from behind. I’m powerless to pull him off me as I struggle to breathe. His whole weight crushes me, but he somehow manages to slide a palm around to my stomach, pulling me closer to him.

Will he kill me like the other dolls?

The thought terrifies me, but not like it should. I don’t want Macy to be alone.

For him to do this to her.

To be disposable to him.

The air thickens around me and I’m aware of the darkness cloaking my senses, smothering me. I’m blacking out with this thought on my mind, but the moment he touches my clit, he revives me. Like the confused girl I am, I choose an orgasm over air—just like I choose them over nourishment.

“Good girl,” he mutters, his grip loosening slightly. “Love me.”

I suck tiny hisses of air into my lungs, but it isn’t what I’m greedy for. I’m greedy for the intense pleasure I know he’ll gift me if I simply hold still. He continues his relentless thrusting while his fingers do their magical dance.

Between his expert touches and the brutal way he takes me with his massive hand around my throat, I release harder than I ever have before. I completely black out with his whispered name, the name he won’t allow us to say, on my lips.

Benny.

Benny.

“Benny.”

The movement stops and I blink my eyes open as Bo’s beautiful face crumples in devastation.

“Were you…” his voice drops to a whisper, “were you thinking about that monster?”

God, no.

Yes.

My lip wobbles. This seems like a terrible time to discuss this—with him balls deep inside my vagina. “I, uh…I had a terrible day.”

He slips out of me and jumps out of the bed as if I’m a snake that’s just bitten him. “What happened?”

I frown as he dresses with record speed. “Chief put me on leave. I thought the missing girl and today’s homicide were related to…”

“Related to what?” he snaps.

“Benny.”

His lip curls in anger. My sweet Bo doesn’t look sweet at all. He looks pissed. “This shit again, Jade? Not every missing girl or homicide is that sick fucking prick.”

This shit?

Did he just expect me to let it go?

Does he not see Benny lives inside me, still keeping me prisoner in my mind?

“I want you to go back to your therapist,” he hisses, a cold bite in his voice. “You’ve gotten worse lately. It’s making you crazy, Jade.”

At this, I sit up on my elbows and glare. “You know how I feel about the therapist. It doesn’t help. It only makes things worse. We talk in circles and nothing gets solved. I’m not going back. I made a mistake and I have a week to think it over.”

He scrubs his face with his palm. “Why didn’t you wear your ring?”

Guilt slides over me like oil on a lake. “My job—”

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