"Get on the fucking bed," he growls, and I do as I'm told, crawling on top of him. He lets me straddle him, and my heart pounds when I feel his thickness, hard and throbbing, under my pussy. I start grinding on him. "You're gonna leave a wet spot on my pants, little bird. Do you want everyone to know what a little slut you are?"
"Maybe." I grin wickedly. "Don't you want to fuck me?"
"You'll do for the night, yes." His words hurt, but I'm determined to change his mind. I'm not going to leave him alone after this. Parker and I are meant to be together. There's nobody else for me.
"Then fuck me," I whisper in the shell of his ear, grabbing his hands and putting them on my tits. But he's barely responding, as if his mind is preoccupied with something else. Someone else. Probably June. God, I don't want to hate her, but the jealousy I feel is overwhelming.
"You a virgin, little bird?"
I stop moving, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. "Is that a problem?"
"It might be." Parker props himself up on his elbows. "You like it rough?"
"I don't know," I manage. "Do you?"
"Of course I fucking do, Dove. Don't be stupid."
"Well, then I do, too." I smirk at him mischievously. "I like whatever you like. I'll be whoever you want me to be. Do whatever you want. Anything."
"Anything?" His gray eyes sparkle darkly. "Any-fucking-thing?"
"Of course," I chirp, hoping I sound more certain than I feel.
The next moment, Parker grabs me by the wrists, flipping me over so my body is caged underneath his on the bed. I whimper as he slams my arms down and my breaths are coming hard.
“Anything you want,” I tell him, “Any way you want it. I really do like you, Parker.”
"You won't after tonight," he growls at me, and my heart jumps with excitement. "I'm going to make you regret this. Regret liking me. Regret making a move."
I struggle beneath him, but he won't let go. It excites me, and I whisper, "Are you going to pop my cherry?"
He shakes his head, grinning. "I'm going to pop all your fucking cherries, Dove Canterbury."
His words send a shiver of excitement down my spine, and I stare up at him intently as he lowers his lips against mine. His kiss isn't sensual or sweet. It's a punishment. He nips at my mouth, biting, sucking me. I mewl against his lips and he deepens our kiss, claiming me as his property once and for all.
"You know you're signing your death sentence when you kiss me like that?" Parker mutters against my lips. "I'm sick. I'm going to get obsessed with you, and I'll never fucking let you go."
"Fine by me," I grin against his lips. He grabs me by the hair, pulling my head back and exposing my neck to his mouth. He doesn't kiss it, he fucking bites, and I love it so much.
"Let me have that mouth first." His words are laced with a dark promise, and I watch him unbutton his jeans, my heart pounding as his hard cock springs free. "I've been dying to fuck that little mouth of yours, little bird..."
I don't get a chance to answer. He climbs on top of me, my body caged beneath his as he forces his cockhead into my mouth. I've never done this before, and I'm afraid I'll be clumsy and bad at it, but when his tip slides into me, a fervent desire fills me and instinct takes over.
I lick him and he groans. I kiss his cock like I want to kiss him, and Parker's fingers tighten in my hair.
"Not hard enough, Dove," he growls. "Suck it. Work for it. Show me how good you can be for me."
I take his words to heart. I'm desperate, eager to impress him. I want him to keep coming back to me, to keep taking me, to mark me as his forever. So, I do my best to satisfy him, eagerly eating up his cock and sucking hard.
"Fuck," he mutters. His fingers are twisting, pulling on my hair painfully. "Keep doing that, little bird. Take it. Fucking take it!"
Encouraged by his words, I allow my throat to accept him deeper. But then something switches inside Parker. I see the darkness take over him and pull him under. He grips my hair so tight it makes me squeal and when he starts to fuck my throat with angry thrusts of his hips I choke and gag and splutter.
He’s loving it.
And it hurts.
But I fucking love it.
Chapter 8
Nox
8 years ago
It's hard to fight my brewing obsession with Dove Canterbury. The need to mark her as mine is overwhelming. I keep thinking about ways to claim her. To let the world know that I was her first, and I'll be her last, too.
She sucks my cock clumsily, but I love it nonetheless. Her little mouth wraps around the tip of my dick, trusting eyes finding mine as she sucks and licks at me. I want more, so I grab her by the hair and push myself deeper into her mouth. I'll always want more than she'll want to give me. But if Dove doesn't want to get hurt, she'll let me have it.
"Where do you want it next?" I grunt as her eyes bulge, taking me deeper and deeper until she gags. I pull my cock free and she splutters up so much saliva, the sight is almost enough to make me come. "Tell me, little bird. Tell me where you fucking want it."
"In my pussy," she breathes. "Please, I don't want to be a virgin anymore, Parker."
"Show me!" The words are nothing but a hiss as I move down her body. She opens her legs for me, nice and wide, and I position myself at the tip of her untouched entrance. I want her. I'm going to fucking have her. And I'm going to kill any man who dares to claim her after me.
Her fearful eyes find mine as I rub my cockhead over her sweet pussy lips. I know she's scared, but I don't offer any reassurance, no words of encouragement. She can deal with the guilt and the shame on her fucking own. I'm not here for that – I'm here for three reasons, and two of them are yet to be taken advantage of, between her legs.
"You ready for me, little bird?" She nods, teeth digging into her bottom lip as her eyes beg me to take even more than I already have. "Tell me your pussy is mine. Forever."
"It's yours," she manages hoarsely. "It's yours, forever, Parker..."
"You better not be fucking lying," I hiss as I toy with her, wiping the precum off my cock with her cunt, grinning at her as she whimpers. "Because I'll hunt you down... I know who you are, where you live. You'll never escape me now, little bird."
"I don't want to." Her words excite me. She's such a willing victim. I fucking love it. "Take it, please, Parker, I don't want to keep it, I don't want to have it anymore, please... Take my virginity... I want it to be yours."
With a groan, I push myself into her dripping wetness. She tenses as her snatch stretches around me, her walls desperately trying to accommodate my girth, but it ain't fucking happening. I'm too big for her. I'm going to tear her the fuck up.
"You ready for this?" I growl. "It's going to hurt..." I have no interest in making this easier for her. I get off on this. On the scent of her fear, on the taste of her sweat, blood, and tears. "Tell me you want me to hurt you."
"Hurt me," she breathes in desperation. "Please, Parker, fucking hurt me..."
I give her what she wants. With a single thrust of my hips, I bury my length inside her. She screams, but I don't give a shit. I'm too far gone in my obsession to care about what my victim wants. All that matters is pleasing my cock, feeding my addiction. I have an appetite, and I'm going to use my little bird to sate it.
"It hurts," she cries out. "Please, Parker! It hurts!"
"I don't care," I growl, driving myself in and out of her again and again. It's hard to give a shit now, when I'm so fucking close, when her desperation tastes so damn sweet. The walls of her pussy are closing in, holding me prisoner in her cunt. There's no goddamn way I'm pulling out now. "Just take it. Tell me how good it feels."
She cries out but doesn't try to stop me. Instead, her little fingers wind through the strands of my hair, gripping me, holding on for dear life as I fuck her harder, rougher, meaner. Every thrust of my hips marks her. Every time I push my cock deeper, she cries out in pain. With each second that passes, my obsession grows.
Until I finally pull out. She cries at t
he loss of my cock, accusing eyes meeting mine. "Don't stop, Parker..."
"You have one hole left," I grunt. "I'm taking that next."
"No, p-please." Now she's stuttering, growing paler by the second. "You already took so much from me... Please don't take any more."
"I'll take whatever the hell I want," I hiss. "You're mine. Repeat it to me."
"I'm..." She bites her bottom lip. I can see her getting worried when she looks at me. She's scared. "Please, I..."
"Say it!" I demand.
"I'm yours."
"Forever?"
"For..." She swallows. "Forever, Parker..."
I grab her, throwing her over to her belly and propping a pillow under her. I spit on her ass, watching it dribble between her cheeks, her skin so pale and beautiful, completely unmarred. I wish I could leave more marks, and the desire to carve my name into her grows.
I'm sick. I shouldn't be thinking this shit. And I'm already obsessed with someone else – my stepsister. Dove is just a fucking kid. She doesn't deserve this. Doesn't deserve to be hurt by me.
None of that helps, though. I still want her, and before I can change my mind, I thumb my spit over her tiny asshole, making it wet before massaging her puckered hole with the tip of my finger.
"You were innocent before," I mutter. "But no more. Not again. Not after I’m done with you."
"P-Please," she begs as I grab her by the throat, twisting her head so she's forced to look at me. "Please, Parker, don't hurt me."
"You were begging for the opposite moments ago," I remind her cruelly. "Which is it, little bird? Pain or no pain?" I ask her as I push a finger into her.
She doesn't answer, merely mewls in response, but I'm too far gone to give a damn. Instead of waiting for Dove to make up her mind, I line my cock up and force it into her, growing harder and needier as I push deep. I break that cherry, too. She screams as I fill her up, and my cock grows, throbbing in tune with her desperation.
I can tell she's hurting. She seems to be drifting in and out of consciousness now, her body limp beneath mine. But still it isn't enough to stop me. I fuck her like it's my last time. I don't have mercy for this girl. I can't let myself have mercy, because it would mean I care, and I don't care about anyone.
I keep going until her moans and cries grow softer and softer. And when I finally come in her tight little hole, she doesn't even respond. She's gone somewhere in her head, a dark place where everything is okay and the monster from her nightmares isn't holding her captive on this bed.
Filling her ass, I finally force myself to pull out. I look at her then, really look at her, her body bruised and broken by the sheer force I fucked her with. Her puckered hole dribbling with my cum. Without even speaking to her, I know she's ruined. She'll spend the rest of her life looking for this. Searching for the same things I gave her tonight, for the looming darkness that will hang just outside her reach as long as she's alive. But she'll never find it again. Not without me.
I force myself to pull back as she opens her eyes with a groan. She must be in so much pain. I want to hate myself, but I don't. Not when it felt so fucking good to rip Dove's innocence away from her.
Now it's time for me to leave. I can't stay here, not after what I've done. I can't risk giving her false hope. She's already infatuated with me – what I just did will only make matters worse. I don't want to destroy her. I just wanted to take something beautiful and ruin it.
As Dove's broken gaze finds mine, I know I've succeeded.
***
I remember fucking her like it was yesterday. The day I took Dove's virginity, I didn't know how deep my obsession ran already. I would fight it for months to come. Months without knowing who the real woman I wanted was. But not anymore. Now, I was certain. Dove Canterbury is the one for me.
I wake up from the memory with a groan, my hand fisted around my cock. It's the next day – has to be. I managed to make it back to the motel and fell asleep in my clothes on top of the bedspread. My head is pounding and I'm exhausted.
Today isn't a Dove day, it's a workday, and I'm fucking dreading it. I have to talk to that old bastard Hodge, who will buy any bullshit I feed him. He still doesn't know I'm the reason his daughter is dead.
I don't regret many things, but I regret killing Marissa Hodge. She didn't deserve to die, but she fell victim to my own rage. I couldn't see straight back then. All that mattered was the red mist that descended every time I thought of my twin. Marissa was collateral damage. But Hodge still won't admit it to himself that I'm the reason his only daughter is dead.
Sometimes I think about telling him. The dark, vicious side of me wants to do it. Wants to punish this man who's only done good things for me. I'm sick like that. I take something beautiful and I twist it and work it until it's no longer pretty. I did it to Marissa. I tried to do it to June. And now I'm doing it to Dove – the only obsession I could never truly escape.
Picking up my phone, I see a number of missed calls from Hodge. I call him back, preparing myself for his cheeriness. It's such a sharp contrast to the black hole that replaces my heart, I need to mentally prepare myself for it.
"Nox, hello!" I was right. He sounds delighted to hear from me. That stupid fucker. If only he could admit to himself what I did. "Have you given any more thought to the exhibition?"
I groan, rubbing my temples. Of course, he would bring that up again. He's been incessant in his efforts to get me to have another show, right here in LA. But after all these years, I don't want to risk my twin finding me. He would kill me if he did. I'm sure of that.
"I don't want to do a fucking show," I grunt in response. "How many times do I have to tell you?"
"Nox, I –"
"No," I hiss. "Tell me some good news instead. Did any more paintings sell?"
Since everything went down, my work has still been selling, and I’ve been creating darker and darker things as time goes by. My art completes many macabre collections of loaded, private billionaires who keep their sadistic streaks hidden, unlike me. But my most dedicated benefactor died a few months back, and we've been having trouble moving canvases since then.
"Not yet," Hodge admits. "But they will, when we do the show. People want to know you, Nox. They want to see the man behind all these incredible works of art."
"Too fucking bad, because I'm not interested."
"It would really help," he reminds me. "I know you need the money."
I think about his words. I don't need the money, he's wrong. I've got enough saved up to last me at least another year or two, even without moving any more art.
"You don't want to sink," Hodge persists. "Now is the time to show yourself. Nobody will connect you to your old life, Nox. Nobody in LA knows who you are."
"Kade could find me," I remind him.
"Your brother's too preoccupied," Hodge says and jealousy twists my stomach into knots. Why did Kade get his happily ever after and I didn't? It's fucking unfair. "He has three children now, and he's still running the company. He never suspected anything. Far as he knows, you're dead."
"And I'd like to keep it that way," I mutter. "He can't find out about this. Not now, not ever."
"What if I could promise you that he wouldn't?"
"You can't."
"I can." Hodge sounds so confident I almost believe him. "Trust me, Nox. Just agree to this gallery showing. One exhibition. That's all I’m asking for."
I've had enough, and I don't know how to make myself any clearer than I already have, so I cut the call short. I turn off my phone and pull on a jacket before heading outside. The receptionist isn't there, and I'm grateful for it. The last thing I need to deal with is a horny little teenager. Although the thought is tempting, I only have eyes for one woman.
I head to the nearby newsagent to pick up some smokes. Barking my order at the woman behind the counter, I wait for her to get them for me, scanning the magazine covers as I wait. I almost miss it, but it's unmistakably her. My little bird is on the cover of the
most famous fashion magazine of the city.
I grab a copy off the counter. I'm so pissed off already, I crumple the paper, ignoring the saleswoman as she hisses I'll have to pay for that. I throw some money on the counter, grab my smokes and the magazine, and head off, eyes still trained on Dove's beautiful, scarred face staring back at me with trusting eyes that have seen so much pain already.
That bastard put my woman on the cover of a goddamn magazine. Naked.
My hands tighten around the magazine. I raise it again to see the image in its full glory, and that's when I see it. The scar I put on Dove's face is not the only one she has. Her body is full of them – little cuts, small but deep enough to scar. Some of them look newer than the others. She's hurting herself.
I wanted to kill the photographer, Raphael whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is, but now, a need to protect little bird is twisting my stomach into knots. I have to save her. Not from me, but from herself.
Chapter 9
Dove
My own face is staring back at me from the cover of a magazine. It's been a long time since I've seen myself in print, and now I understand why.
The image is beautiful, but I'm not. The scar marring my face is too prominent. I thought maybe Raphael would edit it out. I signed an agreement that said the photos were his property, but I didn't expect him to exploit me like this. My blood boils, anxiety taking over as I pay for my copy of the glossy magazine. The vendor's eyes drink me in curiously. He's recognized me. I need to get the hell out of here.
I rush across the street. Raphael sent me a text this morning telling me to pick up a copy of the magazine, Void. He probably thought I'd be thrilled to see myself on the cover of it, but I'm far from thrilled.
There's no denying the photograph is beautiful. It's intimate. It shows me in a vulnerable light. In a way I very rarely show other people. I allowed Raphael in, showed him myself at my most vulnerable, and he exploited it. I shoot him a text, asking him why he did it. I hope he can tell I'm pissed about this. Despite our date going well, I'm not going to hide how I really feel about what he did.
Tyrant Stalker: A Dark Forbidden Romance (Tyrant Dynasty Book 2) Page 6