Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
I didn’t want to scare her, didn’t want to start this off with terror. So, I waited until she ran to the bistro up the street to fetch her dinner before I broke into her rental and drugged her bottle of wine. I’d heard her murmuring to herself about the gifted bottle she was saving for her last night in Paris, and I knew how to get in and out so that she wouldn't even realize someone had been there.
The sedative was a low dose and not harmful. She’d sleep soundly all night and wake up with no side effects.
And when it was all said and done, I just waited. I stayed in the shadows right outside her living room window and watched her as she sipped from the glass. She seemed to relax more with each drink, her eyes glossing over after she finished her second glass then heavy halfway through her third.
Her movements became sluggish and uncoordinated, and I felt my blood rush through my veins. The anticipation and excitement in me grew like a primal animal about to take down his prey.
It was clear she felt how fucked up she was, but she was smart enough to stay seated then finally lay down on the couch. I made my move, slipping back over the railing to my own rental before hurrying through the identical living room, out my front door, and over to hers. And then I opened it—with one of the two key cards she’d been given which she thought she misplaced—and stepped inside.
Her eyes, although heavy-lidded, were still open but unfocused on the television before she finally closed them. I was already moving toward her, and when I stopped by the couch, her breathing was deep and slow, the sedative claiming her fully.
God, she was perfect. Her body was slender with long legs and gentle, feminine curves. My hands were shaking the longer I stood there, staring down at her.
I wasn’t a good man, not by any stretch of the imagination. I was a recluse. I preferred to be alone. It’s why I lived off the grid and why I did what I did for a living.
I’d been labeled many things while growing up. My school claimed I was unsociable and destructive. Professionals diagnosed me with everything from psychopathy to antisocial personality disorder. I didn’t abide by any textbook label. I was what I was, and I embraced who I was.
But I wasn’t insane, not by my standards nor lawfully. I was clear-thinking, precise with my actions, and focused on my intent.
And then I saw Dolly, and she was the only thing, the only one, I could focus on. She was my obsession, and I let it consume me.
Before I realized what I was doing—the dark beast in me taking control—I was stripping her clothes off. One piece at a time. Revealing her smooth and flawless skin that had me salivating.
My jerk-off fantasies were coming to life at this very moment.
My hands shook as I worked her shirt over her head then slipped her leggings off. I wanted to take her bra and panties off, too, but I stood there instead, taking in all the peachy, freckled skin before me.
She was perfect—just as perfect as I imagined. I reached out and smoothed my hands all over her exposed flesh. She was warm, her skin buttery soft. My fingers neared the edge of her panties, wanting so fucking badly to pull them down so I could see how pretty her pussy was.
But I held back.
Not yet. Not like this.
I had some self-control.
Instead, I lifted her, cradling her against my chest, and buried my face in the long fall of her hair. I inhaled deeply, taking her scent into my lungs and wanting to be branded by her from the inside out.
I carried her to her bed and laid her down, pulling the blankets up to her chest, and I felt my cock throb. I was so fucking hard, my dick pulsing, my balls full and ready to fucking explode.
She was mine. She just didn’t know it yet.
I went over to the chair in the corner, dragged it over to her side of the bed, and sat down, my gaze fixed on her as she slept. She was so unaware of the darkness sitting just inches away, the predator who set his sights and fixation on her.
My hands were clenched into fists, and I didn’t fight the urge to reach out and touch her. I let my fingers skim over her full, pink lips and pulled her bottom one down before letting it pop back into place when I let go.
This obsession had taken root too deep, and this need was too strong. Dolly was mine, and it would soon enough be time for her to understand that.