by Linnea May
"He sounded angry," she says, her voice muffled as her face is pressed against my chest. "And concerned."
I scoot her up in my arms. "Let's put some clothes on you, my doll. You're freezing."
"I was trying to find something to wear," she says. "But the phone call stopped me."
Our eyes meet as I carry her out of my office, unsure how to feel about what just happened. I thought I'd be angry. I know I was furious and in a panic when I woke up and didn't find her next to me. I thought she had run away from me, just like Sandria had. I felt betrayed and lost, thinking she may have tricked me into sleeping with her, just waiting for me to doze off so she could sneak out and get away from me.
I thought I had lost her forever.
But Laura surprised me. Her intentions may have been similar to what I first suspected, but she didn't make a run for it as soon as she could. She didn't cry for help, run out of the house toward the street, waving her arms in a desperate attempt to get attention from the first car that drives by. It may have been modesty that held her back, but she's still here.
Instead of running, she did what I haven't been able to do for days. She picked up my phone and faced the problems that haunt me on the outside world. And she did it in a manner that impressed and amused me at the same time. I will never forget the picture of her standing naked in my office, her body marked with signs of my obsessive love for her while she engages in a conversation I never thought I would ever witness.
I carry her over to my bedroom, enjoying the view of her face beaming as she sees it for the first time.
"You have such a lovely home," she whispers.
I let her down and walk over to my closet to gather the clothes she was wearing the day I brought her here. They are cleaned and ironed, but when I turn around to present them to her, she doesn't look as happy as I thought she'd be.
"I'll take my underwear," she says, grabbing her panties from the top of the pile. "But, um.... I was hoping you'd give me something of yours."
I watch as she steps into her cute lacy thong, still keeping her eyes on me, just as I taught her on our first date together.
"Something of mine?" I ask.
She blushes and it's the cutest sight.
"Yes, like a sweater or T-shirt or something," she utters. "Like... a boyfriend kind of thing."
I raise an eyebrow at her and she raises her hands in defense.
"I mean, I know you're not my boyfriend, but I-"
"You'll get your sweater, doll," I say, interrupting her with a peck on the lips before I turn back to the closet to give my doll what she deserves.
Chapter 45
Ryan
My doll is sitting next to me on the sofa. She is wrapped in one of my cashmere sweaters that‘s way too big for her slim frame, and she has her long legs curled up underneath her. She blows softly on the steaming cup of cocoa she’s holding in her hands, her eyes fixated on the crackling fire burning in the fireplace. It's been a while since I've used that fireplace, or actually even sat in front of it. And I've certainly never experienced this scene with one of my previous girls.
But Laura is more than just one of the girls. She is different on so many levels that I'm truly beginning to fear the impact she holds over me.
Or maybe I'm loving it.
I regard her in cautious anticipation, unsure what's going to happen next. We haven't spoken much since coming down tot he living room, and I couldn't think of anything to do other than to offer her a hot drink, so she could warm up while we talked.
Talking has never been my strong suit, not when it comes to these types of things anyway, personal things.
"Why did you come back for me?" she asks out of the blue. Her eyes remain focused straight ahead of her on the fireplace.
I'm startled by her question. Shouldn't the answer be obvious?
"Because I wanted to see you again. I needed to have you again."
"Have me," she repeats, her voice low and contemplative. She throws me a quick glance from the side. "When we first met, you said you don't date and you never see a girl again after spending one night with her."
She pauses.
"Because that's how it has to be," she adds, mimicking my words in a deep-sounding voice.
"That's how I've been doing things for years, yes," I say. "And it has worked pretty well for me."
"Why, though?" she presses. "Why did it have to be like this? And why did you come back for me?"
I shrug, sinking lower into the cushions of the couch next to her, as she continues to watch me.
"I had to come up with a way of protecting myself... and protecting others," I explain. "But you crushed that system."
Her face is unreadable, but her eyes remain centered on me, waiting for me to continue speaking.
I take in a deep breath, bracing myself to finally say the words that I've been afraid to say to her – or to anyone, for that matter – for so long.
"I'm an addict. A sex addict. I can't fuck or love like a normal person. I get obsessed with the one I’m with, and I’m consumed by cravings I can't control."
I pause, waiting for a reaction that doesn't come. Laura looks at me, calmly sipping her cocoa. She contemplates me over the steam rising from her mug, waiting for me to say more.
"Something like this has happened before," I continue. "Years ago. I was wild as a young man, fucking my way through life with a new girl almost every night. Always chasing a new skirt. It consumed me, it was my identity, and it took control over everything I was, and for a while it was my only ambition in life. Control, possession, conquering and fucking a new girl as often as I could.“ He pauses and hesitantly meets my gaze. "And then I met her. Her name was Sandria."
Laura inhales audibly. It's the first time she’s reacted since I started speaking. She looks hurt, her face contorting as if someone had poked her with a dagger. Is she disgusted by me? Or is she in pain?
Our eyes meet, and she waves me off.
"Go on," she says. "I need to hear this."
"I don't want to hurt you, doll."
She frowns, shaking her head.
"It's just jealousy, master," she says. "I'll survive."
She says it in such a matter-of-fact tone, it’s almost as if she's just stubbed her toe. Oh, it's just a little pain, nothing serious.
"I thought I was in love," I say, continuing on with my shameful tale. „She made me forget about every other girl. I no longer felt the need to go out to hunt for the next one after I met her. All my cravings were focused on her now, and I couldn't get enough. Sadly, she also made me forget about everything else, too. My life, my schoolwork, my future."
I pause for a second, noticing that Laura is tilting her head and casting me a questioning look.
"I was still in college back then, just about to graduate," I explain. "I almost fucked that up because of Sandria."
"What happened?"
"Pretty much this," I say, gesturing toward her. "I fell into a rage every time she left me. I hated the idea of her being with other people and not with me. I wanted to own her, completely, all of her. She needed to be with me at all times – so I could fuck the living hell out of her and possess her entirely."
I pause, averting my eyes from hers.
"That's the kind of man I am. I kidnapped her, and then I locked her up, just like I did with you. She wanted to leave, but I didn't let her. I made her mine, my captive, and I tried to control who she was. She said she loved me and wanted to be with me, but once I stole her freedom away from her, she began hating me."
Laura shifts in her seat, visibly uncomfortable at hearing my story. But I can't stop now. She asked to hear it, she wanted me to be honest with her. So I am.
"Everything fell apart around me. People were searching for Sandria, I was missing exams at school, the college was close to expelling me, but I didn't waste a thought on it. All I could think about was her, fucking her, owning her. My cravings were insatiable. No matter what I did, I always wanted mo
re. My brain was incapable of functioning. I have no idea what would have happened if they hadn't found her."
"They?" Laura asks.
"The police," I say. "They stormed my home because the neighbors heard a woman screaming. It's as simple as that. Back then, I wasn't the man I am today. I didn't have all of this. I just lived in a studio apartment, barely getting by while finishing school and building my startup – both of which I almost screwed up because of my addiction."
„But you didn‘t,“ Laura says softly, touching my arm. "You recovered."
"I just managed to catch myself," I interject. "They forced me into therapy, but I doubt that helped as much as everybody wants to believe. What really helped was my plan, the rules I set for myself. I had a lot of energy, a lot of ideas, and I put all of that into Onyx. Growing this empire gave me a different kind of satisfaction and it silenced the greedy monster inside of me, for a while at least. By the time I was seeing real success and living comfortably, I felt strong enough to feed my cravings again, but only in small doses."
I snort, feeling like an idiot now that I look back on all of it.
"I mean, I learned something about myself back then," I say. "I know what I'm like, and I know that I can't get attached to a woman ever again because I can't handle the obsession that comes with it. That's why I came up with this system, spending one intense night with a girl once a year, a different one each year. I tried to keep it safe and structured by buying escorts, girls that were pre-selected for me by an agency. This way, the rules would be clearly laid out upfront for everyone involved. The high price was just another way for me to keep my distance while still feeding my cravings."
Laura swallows hard, and I can tell that she's fighting to hold back tears. I hate seeing her like this. I hate that I'm responsible for her pain.
But I don't regret telling her all of this. I feel relieved and confident that it was the right thing to do. No matter what comes of it, I’ve shared my biggest secret, a part of myself that even my closest friend and personal assistant Lemon only knows very little about.
"I had a lot of precautions in place to make sure that what happened with Sandria wouldn't happen again," I say. "But I broke my own rules, starting with the fact that I asked you to be mine."
"Because I'm not a whore," she says in a low voice.
"Yes."
"And because you asked to see me again," she adds.
"Yes," I agree. "And other rules. You made me cast all of them aside. I wanted you more than protecting my sanity. And I underestimated you."
She smiles without looking at me. It's a somber smile, but a smile nonetheless. She feels flattered.
"Well, this is not exactly what happened with Sandria back then, though," she says, surprising me. "First, you never kidnapped me. I came here of my own free will."
I chuckle. "Well, yes, but-"
"And second, I don't hate you," she adds, interrupting me.
I look at her and am met with a smile that I didn't expect. She looks strangely light-hearted considering what I just told her.
Is she mocking me?
"When I told you that you should be scared of me, I meant it, doll," I say. "I'm a psycho, an addict, a lunatic who lost control and-"
"You're focusing on all the wrong things, master," she cuts me off again. "What happened back then is scary, terrible, and yes, I admit, it was hard listening to it. But things are different now. You are different."
She pauses, her hands tensing around the mug she’s still holding in her lap.
"You're a different man than you used to be," she adds. "And I'm a different woman than that Sandria girl."
She's nervous, a slight trembling taking hold of her as she braces herself to continue.
"You're my master, and I'm your doll," she finally whispers, now locking her green eyes on mine with determined clarity.
"And I think I can help you."
Chapter 46
Laura
"Help me?" he asks, disbelief threading deeply through his voice. "You saw what happened, doll."
"You never hurt me. If you ask me, all that happened is that you extended our time together – without telling me."
"That's not all that happened," he insists. "And you know that. Don't sugarcoat this."
"I'm not sugarcoating it," I assert. "I'm just asking you to take a few steps back and really look at this. At us."
He shakes his head.
"Even if I let you downplay what I did to you," he says, "you still saw my office. You talked to Lemon."
"Yeah, who is that guy anyway?" I ask, adding an amused huff. "He sounded pissed! And worried, by the sound of it."
"He has every reason to be," he responds. "He's my assistant, and I guess you could say my only friend."
"Does he know about this?" I question, pointing back and forth between us. "I mean, about us, about what you do..."
"He does," he answers. "At least as much as he needs to know."
"Oh."
I lower my eyes, feeling the heat rising to my face as my cheeks blush. "So he knew who he was talking to? Your whore."
The thought embarrasses me.
"Not from me," Ryan says hurriedly. "He didn't know you're with me again. And he knows that you're not a whore. He was there the night I first saw you, and he knows how unraveled you left me last year when I made you leave."
His words cause me to smile.
"Unraveled, huh?" I say, winking at him.
"Don't get cocky with me, doll," he warns. "You know how that could end."
I let out a little laugh and place the mug on the coffee table before shifting closer to him, lifting his arm and forcing my body into an embrace. I'm wearing nothing but my panties and his soft sweater, and I notice his eyes traveling along my sprawled-out, naked legs. It doesn't surprise me to feel him hardening, his cock visibly bulging in his lap as I inch closer, coiling in his strong arms.
He inhales deeply when I place my hand on his crotch, gently petting his erection through the fabric of his pants, as if I was trying to calm him down.
"You really are insatiable, master," I tease. "Look at that."
"I told you," he breathes, moving his hips to meet my touch. "And if you don't stop doing that, I'll have to bend you over right here and now."
My fingers close around his cock, holding him in a tight grip that robs him of his breath.
"Okay, I better be careful then," I whisper.
"What's wrong with you, my doll?" he struggles out, visibly trying to regain his composure. "Why are you doing this?"
"This?" I ask him.
"Why are you still here?" he clarifies. "Why do you think you can help me? Why don't you see how fucked up I am?"
"Oh, I see that," I say without letting go of his cock. "I'm just not much of an alarmist. And like I said, I think you're focusing on the wrong things."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that your view of everything is very black and white. All you see is the trouble that comes with what you call your obsession. Yes, it got out of hand before, and maybe it did again with me. But from where I'm standing, you never really lost your mind with me. Yes, you locked me in my room with no intention of letting me go, and you wanted to keep me all to yourself – granted. Not an okay thing to do."
He interrupts my musings with a laugh, shaking his head as he trembles under my touch.
"And you neglected your duties," I continue. "You pissed off a lot of guys it seems, most of all your assistant... what was his name? Lemon."
"It's more than that, doll," he insists. "I didn't just piss them off. I endangered the biggest acquisition my company has ever been involved in. If I don't get my shit together soon, we'll lose millions of dollars and the trust of a lot of very important people."
"Oh, well," I say, brushing his words off.
"Oh, well?" he repeats. "Do you even know what an acquisition is?"
I shake my head. "Not exactly, and it doesn't matter to me right now."
He lets out an exasperated sigh.
"What matters to me is that all of this is still fixable. You haven't lost anything so far. You haven't done any damage that can't be dealt with."
He looks at me, his mind working as he processes my words.
"You're making this sound so easy," he says, sounding defeated. "But it never really is."
"I didn't say it was easy," I protest. "But I stick to my words: I think you should focus on the positive aspects of all of this, instead of highlighting only the bad things, and remembering the terrible things that have happened to you and that Sandria girl."
"The good aspects? What could you possibly mean by that?"
"Well," I say, gently rubbing across his persisting hardness. "What you call obsession, I call dedication, or commitment. I like that you want me this much. I like that you came all the way to California to see me, and I like that you brought me back here and claimed me all to yourself."
He looks at me incredulously. "My crazy little doll."
"I didn't like that you refused to speak to me," I continue. "And I didn't like that you were hiding things from me. And I didn't like that you wanted to keep me here against my will, or at least thought that's what you were doing."
He tenses up. "What do you mean by that?"
I tilt my head to look up at him and meet the curious depth of his blue eyes.
"As sad as it may be, master, I really have nowhere else to be," I say. "I don't want to be anywhere else but here with you. Maybe that's what's making it so easy for me to forgive you."
I pause, lowering my eyes back down to his lap.
"The only thing I'm afraid of is that you'll push me away again," I add in a low voice. "That you'll get scared because of what happened, and that you prefer to go back to your 'system', as you call it, instead of giving me a chance. Giving us a chance."
Awkward silence stretches between us when I pause to give him a chance to reply, but he takes his sweet time coming up with a good response to my honest words.