LITTLE DARLING

A TWISTED ROMANCE

JENIKA SNOW

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LITTLE DARLING: A TWISTED ROMANCE
By Jenika Snow
www.JenikaSnow.com
[email protected]
Copyright © October 2024 by Jenika Snow
First E-book and Paperback Publication: October 2024

Cover Designer: Hannah Tedd

Editor: Kayla Robichaux
Beta Reader: Jill Reading

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part
of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is
punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the
author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is
solely coincidental. Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of
copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

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 CONTENTS

Content
Synopsis

Prologue
1. Dolly
2. Dolly
3. Dolly
4. Lars
5. Dolly
6. Dolly
7. Dolly
8. Dolly
9. Lars
10. Lars
11. Dolly
12. Dolly
13. Dolly
14. Lars
15. Dolly
16. Dolly
17. Dolly
18. Lars
19. Dolly
20. Dolly
21. Lars
22. Dolly
Epilogue
About the Author

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 CONTENT

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When I set out on a trip through Europe, I was searching for adventure and
freedom—something to reset my life.
But my dreams quickly twisted into a nightmare when I was taken by a
mysterious and dangerous man.
Now, trapped in his secluded, terrifyingly beautiful prison, I knew he
wouldn’t let me go.
He told me I was his, that he’d been watching me from the shadows.
Fear and desperation consumed me, but they began to fade as I realized
how much he… cared for me.
He’s obsessed, and it became more obvious with each dominating touch
and the possessive look in his eyes when he watched me.
As the days blurred into nights, I tried to fight my changing feelings,
tried to ignore the strange pull I felt toward him.
Confusion and desire twisted inside me, and I started questioning
everything I once knew.
I’m beginning to wonder if I’m losing my mind because… I think I’m
falling for him.

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 PROLOGUE
DOLLY

A
shadowed figure sat in a chair across the room from the bed I was in.
It was clear it was a man by the sheer size of him. My breath caught
in my throat, and my heart pounded so hard. There was a different
type of discomfort that filled me as I focused on him.
He sat there just watching me. Those shadows surrounding him, created
by darkness and moonlight, made him look ominous, even evil.
We didn’t speak, and I sure as hell didn’t move—not just because I felt
like shit but because I was terrified.
Panic and terror filled me because I knew him.
I’d seen the man several times, wondering if he was watching me. He
had been following me. And the way he observed me made it seem as if he
knew exactly who I was.
He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just kept staring at me, as if waiting
for something.
Fear gripped me like a cold, suffocating weight atop my chest that made
it even harder to breathe.
Who are you? I realized I only whispered those words in my head.
I tried to push myself up again, my hands trembling as I forced my body
to obey because I’d be damned if I was going to be helpless on this bed. But
before I could move more than a few inches, he leaned forward, and I froze.
The air seemed to thicken, charged with something dangerous and
unsettling. And it all emitted from this man.
 “What do you want?” It felt so stupid saying those words, given that it
was clear he’d brought me here… wherever here was… because I was the
thing he wanted. It was for what, exactly, that I didn’t know.
“I saw you,” he finally replied, his voice low and deep and the scariest
thing I’d ever heard.
My eyes felt bigger than my face as that tone sank in. And even though
I already knew what he just told me—along with the next two things he said
—hearing him speak them out loud sent shock waves through my system.
“I wanted you.”
A shiver traveled throughout my entire body.
“And so I took you.”
The finality in his words and the calm way he said them made my blood
run cold.

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 1

DOLLY

I
stood at the edge of the bustling street, the lights of the little city I was
currently in flickering around me and making everything seem more
alive.
The air was thick with the scent of fresh bread coming from a nearby
bakery, a sweet, buttery aroma that made my stomach growl. Coming from
a sleepy small town in the Midwest of America, for me, the hustle and
bustle of even the tiniest European village had been sensory overload. It
was a far cry from the suffocating quiet of my life back home.
Home… if I could even ever call it that.
But here—ever since I got off the plane and stepped outside—I could
suddenly breathe.
I could do anything.
I could be anyone.
I had needed this so damn badly. God, had I needed this like a shock to
my dying heart, and fresh oxygen in my depleted lungs?
Booking a one-month-long trip through Europe had been a spontaneous
decision, and a once in a lifetime experience. I hadn’t even had a second
thought about doing it. I drained my savings, didn’t say a word about it to
anyone, and just left.
My family problems were like chains around me and, eventually, would
have dragged me six feet under.
 As I sat on the patio of this little cafe, I couldn't help but think about the
only place I’d ever known.
My parents' words still echoed in my mind, such cruel and deep-cutting
remarks. My entire existence, I had been used as their personal punching
bag—nothing but abuse. They’d chipped away at any sense of self-worth I
tried to hold on to. They never saw me as enough in their eyes—not smart,
pretty, or good enough for anything.
Yet, not even when I started working and got my own place on the
outskirts of town could I escape the hostile world I’d been born into.
Because I fell right into the arms of a man who was even more abusive
than my parents had been. And since I’d been conditioned to accept all shit
that was thrown at me, I hadn’t left him fast enough, so he’d been given the
opportunity to leave some lasting scars on my body and on my soul.
Looking back now, I realized I hadn’t even given space to that piece of
shit in my thought process when I decided to take this trip.
Like all abusers, my ex-boyfriend had seemed so caring at first. Maybe
even overly sweet, if I were being honest. He love-bombed me, and because
I’d gone my entire life without that type of emotion and affection thrown
my way, I absorbed it like I was in dire need of vitamin D and was able to
bask in the sun for the first time ever.
But it wasn’t long before the cracks in his façade showed. And I took it
for a while, since it felt… familiar, until I understood with shocking clarity
that I didn’t have to get stuck in the same pattern of abuse and manipulation
I’d been subjected to my whole existence.
So I ran as fast and as far as I could, not giving him a chance to swindle
his way back into my life. I might have been weak once but not anymore.
I drained my bank account, packed two bags of clothes and personal
items, bought a plane ticket, and somehow found myself on the other side
of the Atlantic Ocean. God, I had been so ready to disappear into the
nothingness and strangeness that a new place offered.
I’d been saving like crazy since I started working, and I had a nice
cushion, but still, I penny-pinched and stayed in quaint hostels—at least at
first.
Hostels had no frills, with just a bed and the sound of strangers talking
softly close by. Yet, there was something oddly comforting about the fact
that people who didn’t know who I was, nor my backstory, surrounded me.
It made me feel like I could just… exist.
 But at the end of it all, being alone was what I strived for. So, I spent a
little more and, at my next stop, rented a little apartment on a quiet street. It
overlooked a coffee shop I now frequented every morning.
I let my mind wander back to the present and finished my pastry and
coffee.
Sightseeing became my escape. Day in and day out, I wandered through
streets that were off the beaten path. In Europe, there was so much history
at every turn. It was like there was an ancient story that needed to be told
and seen.
And I absorbed it all.
I’d started my trip in Greece, with its crumbling ruins. I went to Italy
next, exploring its grand cathedrals, and then landed here, in France. Every
eerie little village I passed through on my journey to Paris, I immersed
myself in. It was a stark reminder that life had so many more layers than the
corroded slice I’d been living in.
And I’d taken my time, soaking it all in. And the longer I stayed here,
the more clearly I knew I didn’t want to leave.
I should have made this an open-ended trip instead of just the one-
month time frame I’d set for myself.
This trip had started with me running, but I wasn’t anymore. I was
living.
For the first time in my life, I had control over… everything.

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 2

DOLLY

I
started off my morning with a croissant and espresso at the little café
across from my rental. I planned on leaving the bustling sights and life
of Paris at the end of the week to head by train northeast to Amsterdam,
and then south, until I ended my one-month trip in Romania where I had a
little cottage booked in an isolated village close to the mountains.
I picked that region because, when I’d been researching areas to enjoy
my solitude, it stood out for its dense forests that were often remote and
difficult to access. I had no idea why I needed to just be alone, but the
longer I kept to myself, the more I craved additional time spent that way.
It might have been my plan to make Romania the last country I visited
before leaving to go back home, but now, as I finished the last sip of my
coffee, the truth hit me like a freight train.
How the hell I'd figure out how to make this work was beyond me,
but… it was decided.
I would no longer be going back to the States.
After spending some time at the Louvre, I wandered through the
cobblestone streets of Paris, my decision making me feel lighter. The crisp
air carried the scent of freshly baked bread from nearby boulangeries. I
smiled, as I felt proud for learning a bit of French during my short stay.
Window shopping had become a favorite of mine, and when I finally
reached the Seine, I stood in the center of one of its many bridges and just
looked out at its vastness.
 The sunlight danced on the water’s surface, and it looked like a million
crystals decorated the top of it. I pulled out the disposable phone I
purchased at the airport and snapped a few photos. Getting rid of my cell
before leaving had been the best idea I’d had.
No one being able to contact me had done so much for my mental
health, more than I realized until this very second.
A genuine smile formed on my lips as I took a few more pictures,
wanting to capture this moment in time. When I tucked my phone back into
my bag, I glanced at the Seine once more, then turned and made my way
back toward the rental. I took a different way to see new things before
heading back to my rental.
As I slowly strolled the uneven path, I felt this strange sensation, one
that was familiar but unusual at the same time. I noticed a man standing a
few feet away as I passed him, his gaze directed at the river, but then he
glanced at me, even if only for a second. There was something about him
that made me pause because… I knew him.
Well, I didn't know him, but I recognized him from earlier today, near
the Louvre, and I was pretty sure I saw him yesterday when I checked out
the Eiffel Tower.
I shook my head, my past trying to rush upon me, even when I was so
far away. I would not let paranoia claim my peace here. I brushed off the
uneasiness that tried to creep along my spine. I reminded myself I was
traveling and so were a lot of other people. Of course, I might see the same
tourists at popular attractions in the city. It was bound to happen.
The only reason I noticed him these few times was because he was quite
large in height and bulky in stature. He stood out, being so big and towering
over everyone else.
Feeling content with my thought process, I continued walking,
determined to enjoy the rest of my day. But I still held on to a minuscule
amount of paranoia thanks to my trauma. The bitch had a lasting hold on
me.
I took note the man wasn’t following me, which put me a little more at
ease. A sigh of relief wanted to escape me, but there was still the feeling of
something being off. It was a shadow that refused to leave.
With enough time away from home, I’d learn how to rid myself of the
lingering doubts my past had molded me into. Europe was my escape, and
finding peace and adventure was exactly what I intended to do.
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 3

DOLLY

T
he wine bottle clinked softly against the counter as I set it down. The
rich, red wine would pair perfectly with my pasta and meat sauce I
picked up at a little bistro down the street.
After sightseeing all day, I decided I’d end it with a nice, peaceful
evening of takeout and a movie. Perfect for my last night in France.
After uncorking the bottle and pouring a generous glass, I turned the TV
on, cranked up the volume so I could hear it in the kitchen, and started
sipping on my wine. I went into the kitchen to plate my food. I couldn't help
but feel excitement as visions of my next adventure rushed through my
mind.
But as much as I loved traveling, my bank account didn’t share my
adventurous enthusiasm. Though I’d drained my account before leaving the
States so I could pay cash for everything, I didn’t have any incoming
finances, and I was running low on the US dollars I exchanged at each stop
for the local currency. Once I got to Romania, I’d need to figure out if I was
going to stay or force myself to go back to America.
I shook my head at myself. I won’t be doing the latter. No matter what.
If I wanted this to be my life, I needed to make it happen. I needed a
job, something that would allow me to keep moving, to keep exploring, or
maybe find a new home so far away that no one could ever hurt me again.
I was taking a train tomorrow, and I’d make a few stops over the next
couple of days before settling in Romania. Once I got there, I’d start
searching for something that would ensure I could be self-sufficient on a
whole different continent than the one I’d grown up on, and maybe then, I’d
feel like there was enough distance between me and my past.
After I got my food plated, I went back into the living room and sat on
the little sofa. I let my mind wander as I imagined what kind of work I
could do. My two semesters of community college didn’t earn me a degree.
And my only work experience was at the supermarket when I was a
teenager and the odd jobs I was paid for as a self-taught seamstress.
My options were limited.
As I ate, I finished my first glass of wine and poured another. I savored
the warmth the alcohol spread down my throat and through my chest, and
when I finished my second glass along with my dinner, I poured a third
before I got up and grabbed the plastic container for a second helping.
I was halfway through my second plate of food when the wine finally
kicked in. It took a while seeing as my belly was also being filled with
sinfully delicious carbs. A strange, tingly feeling settled over me. At first, it
was just a lightheadedness, but then it grew stronger, heavier.
My limbs felt sluggish, and my vision blurred around the edges as I
tried to focus on the TV screen.
God, was I turning into a lightweight?
I hadn’t been drinking as much as I had before my trip, both because I
needed to save money and because I hadn’t felt the need to dull the world
around me. But this one had been left with a thank you note by the renters,
and I wasn’t about to let a free bottle of wine go to waste.
I set the glass down, blinking hard to clear my vision. The room seemed
to tilt slightly, and I laughed incredulously, admitting to myself that I clearly
drank too much and alone at that.
So I wouldn't fall and hurt myself, I laid on the couch and stared at the
television, listening to the romantic lilt of the French language as it carried
over to me.
Just as I was about to let the darkness of my drunken stupor claim me, I
swore I heard the faint creak of the front door opening. Then the soft thuds
of heavy footsteps coming closer.
But by this point, I felt too far gone, too inebriated to even shift on the
couch. And so I closed my eyes and fell into pleasure-filled sleep.

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 4

LARS

I
’d noticed her weeks ago—first in Greece, then in Italy, followed by
Portugal, and now in Paris.
And I’d watched her in all the small towns along her journey
because I’d stalked her. Followed her around the continent because, when
I’d seen her in Athens, I knew she was mine.
She’d been a glimpse in a crowd, but something about her made this
dark and primal part of me rise to attention. It was like a hook had been
sunk deep into my gut, and there was no fucking way to disengage it.
I followed her to the hostel she’d stayed in. I broke in, riffled through
her stuff, and saw she was going to Italy next. I’d cut my work in Greece
short to follow her but not before I took a little treasure to keep her close
until I could have her with me in the flesh.
And so that was how it started. I followed her, watching her every
move, memorizing the routes she took, the things she liked and disliked.
The way she walked and even how she smiled transfixed me. I’d been so
close to her, right behind her when she didn’t even realize it. I let the sweet
sound of her voice bury itself deep into my DNA until it was a part of me.
Each day, I got even closer to her. I touched the soft strands of her hair
on more than one occasion. The memory had me reaching in my pocket and
pulling out the lock of hair I cut off of her just days before. The blue ribbon
tied around the silky, strawberry blonde tendril to keep the strands in place
was the same color as her eyes.
 I smoothed my fingers over it, then brought it to my nose and inhaled
deeply. It still smelled faintly of the shampoo she used.
And every night, I envisioned her on her knees and looking up at me,
her mouth open, my cock hard and right in front of her face. She’d look at
me with such need, wanting me to come all over her or shoot my load down
her throat.
It wasn’t enough to just watch from a distance, and so, in Paris, I
purposely hadn’t been as stealthy. I wanted her to see me, to glance in my
direction so our eyes could lock. I’d seen the instant confusion on her face
when she saw me the last few times during her sightseeing, and I’d gotten
so fucking hard because of it.
I needed to be closer—as close as two people could get. Fuck, I wanted
us to be fused together.
I only kept her lock of hair with me. The rest of my trinkets, I kept
stashed away in my bag in my rental—the room I chose because it was
nearly right beside hers. And still, it wasn’t close enough.
But fuck, I had a good little collection. I’d taken things—little things
she wouldn’t notice right away. A pair of her panties, a green barrette I’d
seen in her hair once, and a tiny sample bottle of perfume, which I smelled
while I wrapped those panties around my cock and jerked off.
Each item I took became a piece of her I could keep close, something to
tide me over until the moment I could have all of her.
The time was coming soon when I wouldn’t have to wait any longer. I
wouldn’t have to practice self-control anymore.
But tonight, I’d crossed another line, one that was bringing me closer to
Dolly, because I was feeling the itch to have her. The need had grown into
something that was eating me alive. I couldn’t stand it anymore and needed
a little something to satiate the ravenous beast inside me.
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.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers, giving her our first kiss as
she slept on because I drugged her. I forced myself not to just fully take her
right now. With one swipe of my tongue along her sweet lips, I pulled away
and sat back in the chair.
I’d memorized her travel itinerary and made changes to my own to
ensure my plan would be carried out without a hiccup. I whispered, “You’ll
be mine soon, Dolly. So soon I can taste it—and you—on my tongue. When
you realize we’re meant to be together, nothing will ever be the same for
either of us.”

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 5

DOLLY

I
leaned back in my seat and stared out the window. I rubbed my head, a
slight headache building behind my eyes.
I was on the third day of my trip south through the European
countryside, and the hours and days were blurring together. But I enjoyed
my time and didn’t take it for granted.
Although Paris had been wonderful, it was already becoming a faded
memory just one week later. I could still imagine the lights and the noise of
locals and tourists, but the farther I got from the city, the more it all dulled
into the background of my mind.
My plan had originally been to stop in each of the many countries along
the way and stay a day or two at each destination before ending my journey
in Romania. But I’d woken up a few mornings ago in Amsterdam and made
the snap decision to just travel to Romania instead. So after finagling my
itinerary by moving up train tickets and adding a short bus ride, I was on
my way to where it felt like it might be my new home.
I smiled at that thought.
The past week, especially the last couple of days, were a blur. I vaguely
recalled each stop, as if I’d been cramming for a test, my first one being
somewhere in Luxembourg after leaving Paris. After that, I headed north—
through Brussels to Amsterdam. After my change in plans, I worked the
train schedule to where I could hop off in each country, so I could still take
in a miniscule number of sights while I continued my journey. I could’ve
taken a special train that traveled through the night and got to Romania
even faster, but I felt like I’d be doing myself a disservice if I missed at
least seeing the beauty of it all in the daylight.
But now I was finally entering the country that seemed to be calling to
my soul, and I felt a strange sense of anticipation building in my chest the
closer I got to my final destination.
It wasn’t long before I spotted the mountains. They loomed in the
distance, their peaks shrouded in mist like I was staring at some ominous
setting in a suspense or horror movie. The scene seemed so… ancient.
The little village I'd call home for an undetermined amount of time was
nestled at the foot of those massive rocks rising to the skyline. I became
antsy until the train finally pulled to a stop, and then my excitement and
anticipation grew even more when everyone started unloading.
I stepped off the train and took in my surroundings. The station was
small but not unlike any other train station I’d visited thus far. It was when I
took my first step outside that I just inhaled and stared out at the city. After
getting on the bus, it was less than a twenty minute ride to the village
nearest my rental.
The village was small, but as I hopped off the bus—the only person
wanting this stop, apparently—I saw little touches of the modern world that
had the miniature town catching up, so it wasn’t too far behind. I loved the
cobblestone streets and old, time-tested buildings. The air was crisp, tinged
with the scent of pine and earth from the forest close by. I was glad the bus
stop was near the beginning of the town limits, a nice, long distance by foot
to my rental because I wanted to walk and just explore. Especially after
spending so much time on trains over the past few days.
I breathed in the fresh air and was already smiling before I knew I was
doing it. I felt a calmness settle over me, as if this place had been waiting
for me all along.
The streets were filled with the daily traffic of people out and about,
their expressions curious as they glanced my way. It was clear they knew an
outsider when they saw one.
I pulled my cardigan closer around me. Although the weather was pretty
perfect right about now, there was a chill that came down from the
mountaintops. Thinking about them, I glanced up at the mountains that
towered over the village.
 They were intimidating yet oddly comforting, a strange sensation that
made my heart beat a little faster.
As I walked through the narrow streets toward where I'd be staying, I
could feel the weight of the journey behind me as if it was truly the last
journey of my life. I thought about the cities I’d seen and the trains I’d been
on, and the constant movement of it all landed deep within me.
All of that—plus all of what I’d experienced in my life—led me to
being here, in this place that felt like… home. This was a quiet, hidden
place where I could be in my own little world, and I was going to embrace
it fully.
The little stalls and stores—with their fresh fruits and veggies, trinkets
and handmade crafts—distracted me, but it was welcome. I picked up a few
food items along the way to tide me over tonight and tomorrow morning.
My plan was to really take in the area after that and memorize the streets
and buildings. I’d stock up on groceries then.
There was undeniable beauty in the town’s simplicity and how it clearly
tried to stay true and authentic to its tradition.
I’d contacted the rental owner about my new estimated arrival time
before I left, to make sure there would be vacancy. She’d laughed at the
worry in my question when she finally understood what I was asking, which
made me grin, because she then did her best to explain in broken English
that I was the first person to rent the place in four whole months. When I
got there, she was already waiting for me with a smile. While Ana-Marie
spoke little English and I only knew a few Romanian words, we didn’t need
to be fluent in each other’s language to communicate as she showed me the
home.
It was a small cottage on the outskirts of the village with one bedroom,
a bathroom, and a little kitchen that looked out at the base of the mountains.
It had a gorgeous little flower garden in the back and a weathered wooden
bench right outside the back door.
There were a few panels of lattice decorating the edges of the garden,
creeping ivy rising along the wooden slates.
Right before Ana-Marie left, it was clear she remembered something as
she bustled toward the tiny fridge in the kitchen. She opened the door and
pointed to a covered dish, spoke swiftly in Romanian, and I realized she’d
prepared me a welcome meal.
 I felt this swell of disbelief and a weight on my chest that someone had
done something nice for me. This wasn’t simply a bottle of cheap wine kept
stockpiled for each guest’s arrival. This was a home-cooked meal, seeing as
there were no fast-food joints to be seen for miles and miles.
Before I knew what I was doing, I took her hand in mine and smiled.
“Mulțumesc.” Thank you. I hoped my pronunciation was on point, and
when she smiled back, I exhaled in relief.
“Cu plăcere.” You’re welcome. She replied in a warm voice and gave
my hand a squeeze then let herself out.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was waiting for me here,
something that would drive me to plant my roots and grow. Tomorrow
wasn’t just about stocking up the kitchen and sightseeing. I’d also look for a
job because I knew—now that I was here—without a doubt I wasn’t
leaving.
This was where I was meant to be.

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 6

DOLLY

I
woke up early the following morning and started walking around right
away. It was so early by the time I made the trek that most places
weren’t open yet, but I got a much needed cup of coffee and a cheese
and meat breakfast sandwich.
My path had led me around the little town. I took in a few aged
monuments, peered into shops, and walked through the park before taking a
seat on the bench and gazing up at the mountains. They were breathtaking,
with their jagged peaks that rose to the sky.
A deep inhale brought crisp, chilly morning air into my lungs. The scent
of pine and earth and the sound of distant birds chirping and singing went
straight to my soul.
“God, so beautiful.” After finishing my coffee and sandwich, I took the
trail that wound its way through the forest. It was so serene out here, with
the stunning views and the sense of peace that seemed to permeate
everything around me.
The longer I followed the trail, the deeper I trekked into the woods. The
branches overhead blocked out much of the morning sunlight, so everything
around me became more ominous. It was in this atmosphere that my
deepest worries and thoughts rose.
Even with all the beauty, I couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling that had
settled deep inside me, one I’d been trying to ignore since I woke up the
day I left Paris. It was a gnawing sensation that something wasn’t quite
right. It was a feeling that was instinctual, one that was primal and was all
about survival.
I tried to ignore it even telling myself all these worries were nothing but
paranoia, a result of traveling alone and being in new, strange places.
But no matter how much I tried to ignore it and push it to the back of
my mind, it refused to leave.
A long exhale left me, but it wasn’t calming nor did it cleared my head.
As I continued along the trail, I kept glancing over my shoulder, this
tickling on the back of my neck strong, as if warning bells were incessantly
ringing throughout my body.
But there was nothing behind me, no one following me. The forest was
quiet, and the only sounds were those of the rustling leaves from the small
animals scurrying about and the trickle of a stream close by.
Yet… I felt like I was being watched.
I came to a spot where the view was so pretty that it made me stop for a
moment, and I just absorbed everything around me. However, I still
discreetly scanned my surroundings. Nothing stood out except my rising
pulse, and I felt this tingling sensation encompass my arms and legs.
I rubbed my hands over my arms, chasing away the chill, and after a
few moments, I felt that tension and nervousness fade. I smiled and giggled
at my paranoia, and with one more look around, I started heading back
down the trail and toward town.
But the too-close sound of a branch snapping had that anxiousness
filling me once again.
And that’s when I saw him—or I thought I did, anyway. It was a dark,
enormous shadow between the trees. Just a flash of movement and shape
but it made me pause midstep.
The shape looked like a man, a tall, muscular figure. But just as quickly
as I’d seen it—the sight out the corner of my eye, just at the edge of my
vision and partially obscured by the trees—I blinked, and he was gone. He
was too far away for me to make out any clear details, but there was
definitely someone out here.
A chill raced down my spine.
I shook my head, trying to convince myself that it was just my
imagination. It had to be, right? But even repeating that in my head didn’t
make me feel calmer in the slightest. Because the image of that figure was
seared into my mind.
 I continued walking, picking up my pace. All I wanted to do was break
through the tree line and go back to where the safety of the townspeople
was.
But as much as I tried to focus on looking collected and not at all
spooked, the worse I failed at it. I glanced back constantly, searching for
that figure again, expecting him to be right behind me.
The opening of the trail loomed ahead, and I exhaled in relief, but one
last glance behind me had a sharp shot of panic slamming into me.
Because I saw him. It was still just a glimpse, still at the edge of my
vision, and not fully clear enough I could make out his features, but I knew
I saw him. And I knew one more thing for certain.
I have to get out of the isolation of the forest.
What was painfully undeniable was I was being followed, tracked…
stalked.
“Thank God,” I breathed out when I reached the clearing, seeing the
village just across the way and the bustle of the morning rush of people
moving back and forth over the cobblestone sidewalks and streets.
As I made my way out of the forest and across the street, I could feel the
weight of his gaze heavy on me. It was an oppressive feeling that made it
hard to breathe.
But no matter how hard I tried to act like I wasn’t scared, I knew I
failed.
Sightseeing today was done. I’d worry about food later. I wanted to be
in the safety of my rental with locked windows and doors. So I took a
different way home, wanting to make it hard—impossible—for my stalker
to follow me.
He probably already knows where you’re staying, a nasty little voice
whispered in my head.
The image of that man in Paris suddenly appeared front and center in
my mind, but I pushed it away as quickly as it came. There was no way it
was the same man, no way he followed me across Europe.
But the unease that had been gnawing at me for days was now a full-
blown fear because… what if?

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 7

DOLLY
SEVERAL DAYS LATER

D
ays had passed after my walk in the forest, and since then, nothing
had felt off. And it was that sense of safety that allowed me to calm
and settle my nerves.
Today, there was a small flea market style setup in the center of town. I
wandered over the cobblestone streets lined with stalls that were selling
everything from handmade crafts to fresh produce and pies.
I inhaled, taking in the scents of rich spices, baked goods, and salted
and smoked meats. I stopped at a stall and bought a few sweet pastries filled
with honey and nuts and a loaf of warm, crusty bread that would pair
perfectly with the cheese I bought my first sightseeing day, after my
adrenaline had settled from my close encounter in the woods and I realized
just how hungry I was.
There were tourists, the first I’d seen since arriving, and locals milling
about, trying to enjoy the last lingering light of the sun before it set. I let
contentment and the safety of the crowd wrap around me, feeling the last
remnants of unease fully leave me.
I even spoke to a few locals who directed me to some shops that needed
help. Things were definitely looking up.
After ten more minutes of shopping, mostly for food, I wrapped things
up and made my way back to my little cottage with thoughts of a home-
cooked meal playing through my mind. The evening was cool, and I
wrapped my new, handmade shawl—which I bought this morning—around
my shoulders. It was perfect for keeping the chill at bay.
A group of tourists were laughing and taking pictures of the old church
as I passed them. And a couple of locals gave me small smiles in passing.
But as I turned down the narrow path that led to my rental, something in me
shifted.
The air grew heavier. The shadows stretched longer than they should
have, and everything took on a dangerous glint when I realized there was no
one around.
I’d picked this village, this cottage, precisely for that reason, but now, I
wasn’t enjoying the solitude I had so desperately craved.
I slowed my pace, my instincts ringing a warning bell in my body
telling me to be alert. The hairs on my nape stood on end, and I knew—
fucking knew—whoever had been stalking me before was doing it right
now.
He was watching me.
Everything felt so sinister at that moment, and I glanced around, but
there was no one else in the vicinity. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but the
light was fading quickly. I knew I had to pick up my pace and get to the
safety of my home.
The little gate in front of the cottage came into view when I rounded the
corner, and I walked faster. But just as I reached out to push it open, a sharp
prick at the side of my neck made me gasp, the sound loud even to my own
ears.
I barely had time to react, to reach up and touch the spot where the sting
settled before a wave of dizziness crashed over me. I stumbled and braced
my hand on the wooden gate as the world tilted. My bags slipped from my
fingers and fell to the ground as I stumbled.
My vision blurred, my grip on the fence faltered, and I felt myself
tipping toward the ground. This all happened in a matter of seconds, I was
sure, but God, it felt like the world stopped, and everything moved in slow
motion.
Panic surged through me because my body was no longer my own.
My mouth opened and closed like a fish struggling to breathe out of
water. Instinct told me to cry out, to call for help. But my lips and tongue
wouldn’t work, and I couldn’t form any words.
 The last thing I was aware of before I just submitted to the numb
darkness and the nothingness that was rushing up quickly was enormous
hands wrapping around my waist, hauling me upright, and being cradled to
a firm, powerful chest.

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 8

DOLLY

I
woke up to a throbbing pain in my head, the kind that made everything
fuzzy around the edges and had a moan escaping from my too-parched
lips.
God, why did my body feel so heavy? I wanted to place my hand on my
forehead in the hopes it’d ease the ache, but my limbs felt weighted down,
too heavy to even lift them. Another painful noise came from my mouth,
and I clenched my teeth as the sound vibrated my skull.
I relaxed and sank into the mattress, just breathing through the
discomfort. But the longer I laid there, the more panic rose in my chest as I
struggled to remember where I was and what the hell was going on.
I wracked my brain for what happened that lead up to this awful feeling.
The last thing I could recall was heading home after shopping, passing
by a tourist group who were snapping selfies outside the church. After
that… nothing.
I tried to open my eyes, and after a few seconds of a grainy feeling and
the grogginess fading, I tried to sit up. Everything felt so sluggish, my body
unresponsive.
It was after long seconds of me getting my bearings and things finally
settling around me that the genuine horror rushed through my veins.
Because I wasn’t alone.
He sat there just watching me. Shadows created by darkness and
moonlight surrounded this stranger making him glow ominously, evil even.
 We didn’t speak, and I sure as hell didn’t move—not just because I felt
like shit but because I was terrified.
Panic and sheer terror filled me because I knew him.
The man I’d seen several times, wondering if he was watching me. He
had been following me. And the way he observed me made it seem as if he
knew exactly who I was.
He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just kept staring at me, as if waiting
for something.
Fear gripped me like a cold, suffocating weight atop my chest that made
it even harder to breathe.
Who are you? I realized I only whispered those words in my head.
I tried to push myself up again, my hands trembling as I forced my body
to obey because I’d be damned if I was going to be helpless lying on this
bed. But before I could move more than a few inches, he leaned forward,
and I froze.
The air seemed to thicken, charged with something dangerous and
unsettling. And it all emanated from this man.
“What do you want?” It felt so stupid saying those words given that it
was clear he’d brought me here… wherever here was… because I was the
thing he wanted. It was for what exactly that I didn’t know.
“I saw you,” he finally replied, his voice low and deep and the scariest
thing I’d ever heard.
My eyes felt bigger than my face as his tone sank in. And even though I
already knew what he just told me—along with the next two things he said
—hearing him speak them out loud sent shock waves through my system.
“I wanted you.”
A shiver traveled throughout my entire body.
“And so I took you.”
The finality in his words and the calm way he said them made my blood
run cold.
And as it all really sank in, as reality waved right in my face like a red
flag, I understood he’d seen me sometime along my journey, he’d stalked
me all over Europe, he’d drugged me, and he had now kidnapped me.
I was trapped, and there was no mistaking the ownership in his tone. He
wasn’t letting me go.

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 9

LARS

I
couldn’t have taken my focus off of Dolly if I tried.
I watched her, my gaze never leaving her face as she tried in vain to
fight the effects of the drug to stay awake. She was strong, my little
darling, fighting the pull of the sedative that, although still coursing through
her veins, would fade soon.
Her nostrils flared as she took in as much oxygen as she could, on the
verge of hyperventilating. I wanted to tell her to calm down, that she was
safer with me than she’d ever been in her life. But I knew things were very
fragile right now, and pushing her—even with mere words—would just
make things worse.
Her eyelids fluttered, heavy with exhaustion, and I could see the panic
in her gaze as she realized she was losing the battle of staying awake.
I couldn't lie. It was absolutely beautiful to observe the way her
expressions and body language showed me she understood she was fucked
in this situation, yet she still fought against the inevitable. But we both
knew she couldn’t win.
Not against this.
And soon enough, she’d realize there was no use in fighting against the
concept of us being together.
Her breathing grew slower, her body sinking deeper into the mattress as
her strength faded.
Keep watching me, Dolly. Keep staring at me, little darling.
 Dolly tried to keep her gaze locked on mine, but she needed to sleep off
the effects of the sedative a while longer. Her eyes finally closed, her body
going lax as she succumbed to the drug once again.
I didn't move just yet. I sat there and watched as her chest rose and fell
with her easy breath she took. Knowing she was at my mercy right now,
unable to control or stop anything, was an addictive feeling.
Finally, I stood and walked toward her. The floorboards creaked under
my booted feet as I moved closer to the bed. I stood there for a second, just
taking in the sight of her before I was unable to resist and reached out, my
hand brushing against her cheek. I trailed a finger down the side of her
neck, her skin soft and warm… and so damn addictive.
Her pulse beat steadily beneath my fingertip as I took in the fact that she
was so fragile, so perfect.
For me.
I crouched and leaned over her, not stopping myself from inhaling her
scent. She was sweet, her familiar fragrance something I’d grown
seemingly dependent on to survive over the past few weeks. Her aroma
clung to every aspect of her before settling on the sheets. I wanted that scent
to bury deep into me, to mark my very cells as hers.
She’d already wrapped herself around me, making my twisted obsession
with her even stronger, harder to resist, and more consuming than anything
else in the world.
I forced myself to pull away and stop touching her, but I did carefully
adjust her position on the bed so she was more comfortable because I didn't
want her to feel any discomfort. It already felt like there was a knife
protruding from the center of chest seeing her wince in response to the
headache the sedative gave her. I didn't want to hurt her, not in the sense she
most likely thought I did.
I just needed her to understand, to accept that she was mine now, once
she was awake and we could talk about this.
I sat back down, continuing to watch her sleeping form.
This is how it’s supposed to be. Just the two of us. With my Dolly alone
with me in this place I prepared for us.
From the moment I saw her, I started making my plans. And now I was
at the finish line. I glanced around this little cottage I found during my
searches. Time hadn’t been on my side, so it was a rental, but soon, I’d find
us the perfect, isolated home, where it could always just be the two of us.
 As I sat there, dark satisfaction settled into every part of my body. She
was here. Finally. And no one could take her away from me.
I rested my elbows on my knees. “You’ll understand soon, darling,” I
whispered, my voice barely audible, even in the room's stillness.
The darkness was thick around us, the low light of the table lamp barely
stretching into the corners. The bleakness of the forest beyond this cottage
was so thick it threatened to break in through the window and consume
everything. It wrapped around us like a shroud.
My emotions were intense where she was concerned, and it was a
strange sensation. I was someone who never really felt, never actually
wanted anything but the essentials to keep me alive.
So these new feelings I had were bright and loud, and they controlled
every aspect of me. She’d wake up soon, and when she did, I’d be here.
Waiting. Watching. We’d have that talk, and I anticipated it.
But for now, I was content to sit here, in the shadowy room, and watch
over her. To make sure she was safe and protected.
No one would touch her… but me.

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 10

LARS

I
left Dolly sleeping five minutes ago and went into the kitchen to prepare
food for her. She’d be hungry when she awoke and would need to drink
plenty of water to flush the drugs out of her system.
The cabin was quiet, isolated, and just the way I wanted it. Just the way
I needed it. We were hours from her rental and any real civilization. No one
would hear her if she screamed, and I was sure she would. Actually,
positive she would. And my cock dripped just thinking about it.
I moved through the small kitchen, my mind churning with dark
excitement for what was to come. But I focused on taking care of Dolly.
She needed to eat.
I pulled a few ingredients from the fridge, things that were simple and
would be easy on her stomach. A couple of eggs, two pieces of bread, and
some cheese slices. Her stomach would feel off at first, and she might be
nauseous from the sedative, but as soon as her belly was full, she’d feel a
lot better.
It was a strange and foreign feeling to want to care for someone else.
But I was consumed by this need to have everything perfect for her. And so
I concentrated on my task like it was the most important thing I could do. I
cracked the eggs into a bowl, whisking them until my thoughts quieted.
I’d brought all of her belongings with me. Everything she’d need to be
comfortable. I wanted her to know she could be happy here... with me.
 I poured olive oil into the pan, sprinkled in salt and pepper, and then
poured the eggs. I listened to the sizzle as they cooked and let my thoughts
be filled with her. Dolly was the only thing that mattered now. She
wouldn’t run. I wouldn’t let her. But if she tried?
God, if she tried… I’d hunt her down, and I’d catch her. And that chase
—just the thought of it stirred up something dark and insidious inside me.
My cock was ramrod-hard, aching, needing to be buried deep in her little
cunt until all she felt was me stretching her.
The very idea of her leaving—whether by her own accord, her
attempting to escape, or by someone taking her from me—had evilness
rising in me at a violent rate. There was nowhere she could go that I
wouldn’t follow. Nowhere I wouldn’t find her. There was no fucking
distance too great that would keep me from what was mine.
And she was mine. There was no escaping that. Not now. Not ever.
I scrambled the eggs and added a few pieces of cheese to the pan so
they’d melt. I wanted her to have more protein, so I grabbed slices of ham
and, after scooping the eggs onto a plate, cooked the meat until it was
caramelized. Even keeping myself busy with mundane things didn’t stop
my mind from wandering about the moment she’d wake up, and how much
I anticipated it.
But fuck. How would I convince her? How would I make her
understand? She’d fight of course. She’d be terrified of what was going to
happen to her, and no amount of me trying to convince her otherwise would
ease her worries.
But that sinister part of me hoped she’d try to run. I wanted to see how
far she’d get before I found her and dragged her back to my predatory lair. I
knew my desires were sick. But I wasn’t ashamed of them. I embraced
every single need I had.
When the ham was cooked, I toasted the bread in the oven, buttered it
when it was done, and let a few slices of cheese melt on top. A simple meal
for a very complicated situation.
I glanced back toward the bedroom where my Dolly lay asleep, still
completely unaware of the world she’d just been thrust into.
“No going back, sweet little darling.”
Before I took the food to her, I went to the cupboard and grabbed the
little black case stored there. I ran my fingers over it, a smile tugging at my
lips because I knew what I was doing would be another affirmation of what
she was to me… and what I was to her.
There was no going back. Not for her. Not for me.
I’d always be one step behind her. Her silent protector.
And with that in mind, I took the food and the black case into her room.
Dolly’s stalker was ready to keep her close.

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 11

DOLLY

M
y throbbing head woke me yet again, and I winced before I even
opened my eyes. The ache started at the base of my neck, a
discomfort that made my entire body feel heavy and sluggish,
making it hard to breathe.
I slowly blinked open my eyes, everything from before I passed back
out rushing in and causing my head to pound even more.
The room was dimly lit, shadows casting unfamiliar shapes against the
walls and ceiling. I struggled to focus, blinking away the haze that clouded
my vision from whatever sedative he’d given me and the heavy sleep it
induced.
Panic surged through me as reality hit hard and deep. And the longer I
tried to make sense of… anything, the more that panic rose. I sat up quickly,
but a new wave of dizziness forced me to steady myself against the
headboard.
I was alone. I knew that, so I took in my surroundings fully for the first
time.
The bedroom was modest with minimal furnishings—a small, scarred,
and aged dresser. To my left was a wide, sturdy-looking nightstand beside
the bed, and there was a single window across from me. The glass looked
slightly foggy with its heavily embroidered curtains mostly shut. A chair
was next to the door.
 Everything looked… normal, but I knew it was anything but. As my
vision adjusted more fully and I took in more of the room, my gaze landed
on an open bag sitting on the ground by the closed door on the left wall. I
knew that bag because it was mine.
I could see my clothes inside, still neatly folded from when I last packed
it. My fear rose, and I sat up further, feeling my heart race and my breathing
pick up. On the nightstand lay my poetry book, neatly set out with my
reading glasses on top of it. I ran my fingers over the worn cover.
I focused on the bedroom door, and the cold realization of my situation
reinstated itself like a heavy anvil in my gut. This man—who kidnapped me
—had also brought all of my belongings here. Which meant he had no plans
to let me leave. And somehow, above everything else, I felt a sense of
violation that someone had gone through my things.
Although I was still dizzy, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and
gave myself only a second to breathe through the wave of nausea. I was
about to stand, but when I placed my hands on the mattress and added
pressure, the tug and pull of discomfort in my wrist stopped me, and I
gasped.
For the first time, I noticed a small bandage wrapped around it. It felt
tight but not constricting, and with shaky fingers, I unwrapped the dressing,
terrified of what I would find.
And when I saw the skin beneath it, I gasped in horror at what was
revealed.
Etched into my skin in elegant black script was a single word.
Lars.
I stared in disbelief at the tattoo.
Oh my God. He tattooed me. He all but branded me in the sense that I
was his property.
My fear made way for anger, churning with more ferocity the longer I
stared at the ink. Before I knew what I was doing, I was screaming out as
loud as I could. All my anger and fear and sadness came rushing to the
surface.
I was still screaming when the door crashed open. I glared in incredulity
and female rage at the man—at the monster.
I didn’t need him to tell me his name to know what it was. He’d
permanently etched it into my flesh like I was fucking cattle.
 Lars stepped inside, his muscular, imposing frame filling the doorway.
He had his dark eyes trained on me, his expression unreadable, as he
stepped farther inside and shut the door behind him.
In his hands was a wooden tray that held plated food and a glass of
water. My stomach clenched in a mixture of nausea and hunger as I smelled
the eggs, ham, and toast.
“You're awake,” he said in a calm voice, but his sarcasm was clear.
Obviously, I was awake. I’d just been screaming.
I didn’t respond, just scooted backward on the bed, as he came closer
and set the tray on the bedside table, moving my book and glasses to the
opposite side, his movements unhurried, his focus never leaving me.
I couldn't find my voice, even though I’d just been crying out to the
heavens seconds before. My gaze darted between him and the door,
calculating my chances of getting past him and escaping. But my body still
felt a little heavy, and my fear made my limbs uncooperative.
“Why am I here?” I finally asked. But I had a hell of a lot of other
fucking questions on my mind. I swallowed, my throat dry and tight, and
that glass of water was looking really good right about now.
As if he read my thoughts or saw the thirst on my face, he grabbed the
glass and held it out it to me.
I pursed my lips and shook my head.
“Be as stubborn as you want.” His voice was low and deep, his accent
American. “But you're not going anywhere, so you’ll either starve to death
or eat and drink what I give you.” He pushed the glass closer, his expression
hard. Firm. “The faster you drink this, the sooner I can get you another one
to flush out the sedative.”
It was as if his saying those words made me thirstier. I figured if he
wanted to drug me again, he wouldn’t need to spike my drink. He’d just
stab me in the neck with another needle, which I now remembered him
doing so stealthily. I took the glass and moved right, scooting sideways on
the bed before climbing off of it. At least the mattress was between us, yet I
was even farther from the only escape.
I drank the water so fast I choked on it. He took the empty glass and
left, but before I could make a move toward the door, he was back with the
glass refilled. I snatched it away and drank that one, too, and when I
finished, I exhaled at how good it felt to no longer be thirsty.
 He moved over to the chair pressed to the wall and dragged it across the
wooden floor, the legs scraping loudly in the room. He picked up the tray of
food and set it on the mattress between us before he took a seat on that side.
When I didn’t go for the food, despite getting hungrier as the time
passed, and I didn’t say a word, he finally leaned back in the chair and
clasped his hands behind his head and said, “I brought you here because I
wanted you. You’re mine, and we belong together.”
I took a few seconds to really look at him. His hair was short and dark,
his eyes just as black, almost bottomless. He wore a plaid, long-sleeved
button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and the first few
buttons were undone at the collar. I could see a sprinkling of dark chest hair
on the exposed skin.
“It's safer this way… to have you here with me.”
I felt a wave of incredulous anger fill me. “Safer?” My voice was flat.
“You—” I inhaled deep and long and exhaled just as slowly. I glanced down
at my wrist, holding it up as evidence, my flesh throbbing and sore. “How
am I safer with you when you’re the one who did this to me?” My voice,
although emotionless, was rising.
He stared at my wrist, and the bastard had the audacity to have a faint
smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he
murmured, not saying it like a question. The motherfucker was proud of
himself for what he’d done to me.
“But…,” I whispered, “why?”
“I needed you to understand how much you mean to me and how
permanent you and I are.” He held his arm up, twisted his hand, and showed
me his skin. And there, right on his wrist, was my name. “Now, I’ll always
carry a part of you with me and vice versa.”
I recoiled in horror. Disbelief careened through me as I stared at my
name. His skin was raised and slightly pink, the tattoo as fresh as mine.
“You’re fucking crazy.” My voice was choked and strained, and I felt tears
stream down my cheeks.
He sighed and leaned back in the chair. “You think that now, but in time,
you’ll see how this is where you’re supposed to be. With me. Always.”
I shook my head, the sensation of adrenaline overriding the fog in my
mind. “You can’t keep me here.” I said it with such certainty that, just for a
split second, I even believed the words, as if saying them out loud meant
they’d come true.
 He didn’t speak, didn’t look arrogant after what I said, because we both
knew what I said was a lie. He definitely could if he wanted to.
“My family and friends will start freaking out when I don’t return next
week.” My voice was shaky when I said those words because they held zero
truth. But he didn’t know that. Right? “Someone will come looking for
me.”
He cocked his head slightly, his gaze steady, his expression unreadable.
“I don’t like lies, Dolly. Let’s just keep it the truth between us, okay?”
I swallowed, trying to push down the thick, nervous lump in my throat.
“Even if what you said were true,” he said, low and steady, “it wouldn’t
matter. No one will find us. No one will take you from me.”
“This is crazy.” My voice rose with my anger. “I’m nothing to you. Let
me go.” I felt my face heating with my emotions.
“You’re everything to me.”
I felt like my eyes bulged out of my head at those words.
“I don't even know you.” In my head, that truth was screamed in a surge
of panic, but it was nothing but a breathy whisper from my lips.
He was still and silent for long seconds, but then he leaned forward,
braced his elbows on his jean-clad thighs, and stared at me. “But I know
you, Dolly.” There was this fervent edge to his tone, as if he needed me to
understand and accept it. “I've watched you. I understand and know you in
ways no one else ever could.”
Oh my God. He’s a lunatic. Psychopathic.
I was still standing on the other side of the bed and took several shaky
steps back, my body coming in contact with the wall. “This is insane.
You’re insane.”
He stood then, and when he moved closer, I opened my mouth and
screamed… but nothing came out. It was nothing but a fear-stricken gust of
air that left me, and I couldn’t stop it until he stood right in front of me.
“I don't want to frighten you,” he whispered so gently it made me want
to believe him with everything in me. “Don’t you understand?” He reached
out and touched a lock of my hair, and I flinched, as if that touch burned me
like a brand. “I want us to build a future together. I want you to trust me.
And I know that’ll take time.” He stared at that lock of hair between his
fingers, rubbing the strands as if mesmerized by the sight. “And I have all
the time in the world for you, little darling.”
 My arms were crossed over my chest, a defensive pose to protect
myself. But the sting of the fresh tattoo reminded me I couldn’t protect
myself at all from this man.
A wave of female rage built inside me again, and I placed my hands on
his chest and pushed him. Surprisingly, I pushed him back an inch, but I
knew I only could because he allowed me to.
I held up my wrist. “This isn't trust. This is abuse.”
A shadow of darkness passed over his face, and I inhaled sharply, afraid
of what I saw.
“Saying that shit isn’t helping matters.” With one more hard, unyielding
look, Lars turned and headed for the door. “I suggest you eat and finish
your water. After that, get some rest.” He didn’t look at me, just stared at
where he gripped the door handle. “Your clothes are in your bag. Put them
in the dresser as you see fit.” He glanced back at me then. “Once you’re
feeling better, we’ll wash you up and talk more later.”
“We’ll wash you up?” Oh, hell no!
He opened the door, but before walking out of it, he said, “It’s best if
you don't leave. The cabin is out in the middle of nowhere. The woods are
dangerous, and you’ll just end up hurting yourself before I get to you.” He
stared at me with cold, black eyes. “And I will find you. Be smart about
this, Dolly.” With that ominous statement hanging between us, he left and
silently shut the door behind him.
I didn't hear a lock engage, so I could only assume he was so sure about
me not leaving, or that he’d find and catch me if I did, that he wasn't
worried about keeping me in this prison with lock and key.
I stood there for a moment, numbness spreading through me because I
was good and fucked. Fight or flight told me to make a run for it no matter
what he threatened. But what if things got worse if I tried to leave, and he
found me?
As reality settled in, I sank to the floor and let the tears I’d been holding
back spill forth. I was trapped in an isolated place with a man who had been
stalking me, and believed we were meant to be together in some fucked-up
and twisted fairy tale.
I stared down at my one and only tattoo. I was now marked permanently
with his name. There was no doubt he had a claim over me, no matter how
nightmarish it was.
I was trapped.
 I felt helpless and weak.
But if he wanted me so badly, there was no way in hell I would make it
easy for him.

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 12

DOLLY

I
t had been a day. But I couldn’t be sure because time seemed to melt
together with a strange, warped sensation. The weight of everything that
happened was almost suffocating.
Lars had brought in two more meals, and taken me to the restroom a
few times, but I never saw him do it. I’d doze off for only a second and
wake up to find the meals waiting for me. I watched the sun set and rise
once each. I’d barely slept. I was too on edge, too afraid to close my eyes
because I didn't know if he’d try to tattoo me again.
And every time I drifted off, I woke up in a panic thinking Lars would
be standing over me with a needle and ink, watching me intently, or maybe
with rope to bind me to the bed so he could do what he wanted to me.
But on the heels of those nightmarish thoughts, I knew if he wanted to
hurt me, he had ample time and opportunities to do so already. He’d been
feeding me, had brought all my creature comforts here, but despite “taking
care” of me, I was his prisoner.
I’d just finished a light… lunch? Hell, I didn't know what time of day it
was to know if I was eating breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I sat on the edge of
the bed and stared at the door because I heard movement right outside just
moments before.
I’d had a lot of time to just think about what I was going to do. I knew
he’d probably catch me if I ran, but I was going to fight back. I wasn’t
going to just submit, even if it was a senseless war.
 Lars didn’t lock me in the bedroom. I knew that because I tested it
earlier. Would I have tried to leave at that moment? I thought about it as I
reached out with my trembling hand and turned the knob just enough to
hear the faint click of the latch disengaging.
But fear had taken over, and I hadn’t opened it. I couldn’t bring myself
to. The idea of actually stepping out of the room and facing the unknown—
of facing him—filled me with a cold, paralyzing fear.
I checked the window, but it would’ve been no help in my escape,
either. This cabin was so old that thick layers of paint sealed its edges. The
glass was immobile, but I didn't know if that was because of Lars or
because this place was ancient and just built that way.
But despite all that, I’d tried.
I focused on the door again. I didn’t know exactly where I was, but I
had to assume I was still in Romania. I could see between a couple of the
logs that the cabin was isolated. There was nothing out there but a densely
wooded forest and danger.
More dangerous than what's in here?
There was so much… silence. I didn’t hear cars or any kind of
civilization. The only sounds I could hear were the rustling of trees as the
wind picked up, the chirp of birds, and the animals scurrying around on the
forest floor.
And then there was the occasional creak of the floorboards as Lars
moved back and forth just behind the door that was my lock and key to this
prison.
Lars had done one hell of a job completely cutting me off from the
outside world.
No phone. No computer or internet. Nothing but the decades-old
furniture and bedside lamp that gave the room a muted, eerie vibe.
He made sure it was just him and me.
When he still had yet to come back and I was too nervous to try the
door again, I stood and started pacing the room for what felt like the
hundredth time. My thoughts were an endless cycle of frantic and disjointed
“what ifs.”
I had to get out.
I have to do something.
And the time for that was now.
 Frustration boiled inside me, and I curled my hands into tight fists,
feeling my anger rise. I had to take control. I felt like I was suffocating in
this room, in this nightmare that didn’t seem to end, and the walls were
closing in.
My thoughts were jumbled when the bedroom door opened, and my
heart leapt into my throat. I froze, every muscle in my body tensing as I
kept laser-focused on Lars as he entered.
“Dolly.”
I licked my dry lips, not speaking.
He had another glass of water and set it on the bedside table. “I’ve been
waiting for you to come out and explore more of the cabin.” He spoke in a
low, calm voice, as if this was all perfectly normal.
I didn’t respond. Hell, I was pretty sure I wasn’t even breathing as I
tracked his every movement. His expression was unreadable, his presence
filling the room with a dark energy that paralyzed me.
“You’re barely eating,” he stated matter-of-factly, his tone gentle but
firm, as if he were a parental figure scolding me for not eating my
vegetables.
I narrowed my eyes. He acted like he was doing me a favor. Did he
think he was caring for me by kidnapping and keeping me as his prisoner?
“You don’t have to speak,” he finally said. “But it makes no difference.
I know what you need. I know how to care for you.”
I didn’t know how much longer I could do this before I lost my mind.
How much longer could I stay locked in this room, kept like a little bird in
his gilded cage?
“And what you need right now is to clean up.” He didn't give me a
chance to respond, and I was so frozen with my emotions that my plan to
fight him and try to leave was momentarily forgotten.
All I could picture was being forced to clean myself in front of this man.
“I’m going to run you a bath. Get what you need and meet me in the
bathroom.” Without another word, he turned and left, the door staying open
behind him.
And just like that… he expected me to do what he wanted.

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 13

DOLLY

I
’d stayed in the room as long as possible, but with the sound of the
bathwater being shut off—a squeak of the faucet to let me know my fate
—I knew I had to move.
I thought about not going down without kicking and screaming, but fear
of what he’d do to retaliate had me holding back my instinct to fight.
Clutching my clean clothes to my chest, I left the room and found the
bathroom easily enough. I felt like I was walking to my execution. But
while I moved forward the smallest, slowest steps possible, I took in every
bit of my surroundings for when I made a run for it.
And I will.
The ancient clawfoot tub sat ominously in the tiny room, steam
billowing up and filling the confined space. I didn’t see my captor, but I felt
him. I stepped inside, moving toward the sink, and heard Lars approach. I
wanted to ignore him, to refuse to give him any attention. But I looked over
my shoulder to see him standing in the open doorway.
His expression was calm and controlled as ever as his massive body
filled the entire entrance. I faced forward again but could still feel his eyes
on me. My skin prickled, a mix of dread and defiance running through me,
but underneath all of that, there was something dark and unusual nagging
my consciousness.
I didn't want to delve too deeply into what it was because that scared me
even more than the man standing behind me.
 “I have all the time in the world,” he said finally, breaking the silence.
“But the longer you take, the colder the water will get.”
I glanced at him, still silent.
“And you’ll still have to bathe… but in icy water.” He hummed, as if
the thought turned him on. “I can picture your perfect skin covered with
goose bumps, your nipples tiny and hard and begging for my mouth, little
darling.” He growled that last part, and I shivered, hating that his words and
the sound of his voice made me… feel some kind of way.
I stood by the tub, my arms wrapped around me, as if that could
somehow protect me from the reality of what he was asking. No—
demanding.
“I can help you bathe, Dolly. Would you like that?”
Help me bathe? The thought of him watching me, of his hands on my
skin, made my stomach... God, it made it flutter.
“Leave me alone,” I said softly, maybe too low for him to even hear me.
I looked him in the eye, wanting him to see the strength I had—or the
strength I tried to portray.
He narrowed his eyes, but it wasn’t in irritation or anger. It was more
calculating—like he was planning something.
“So strong, sweet girl. So independent,” he replied tenderly and stepped
inside, reaching back and shutting the door behind him but not closing it
fully.
I shook my head, not sure what I was saying no to at that moment.
Everything.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Right? I was saying no to everything?
Panic bubbled beneath the surface, and I breathed out, “I’m not fighting
you… Lars.” I thought saying his name might soften him toward me.
Maybe he’d see he had to be gentle with me if he wanted me to go along
with this and not struggle. “I need privacy.”
The air in the room went still, tension filling the space between us. I
turned and faced him but kept as much distance between us as I could, even
if it was only a couple of feet. As we stared at each other, I could see the
way his jaw clenched. I took in his imposing size and the way his hands
flexed at his sides.
For a moment, I thought he might strip me naked and force me into the
tub himself. But then, after what felt like a stand-off between our two
warring sides, Lars tipped his head toward the tub and reached behind him
to open the door.
I thought he’d leave, but he didn’t. He leaned a broad shoulder against
the frame, crossed his thick arms—his flannel stretching over the wide
expanse of him—and stared at me.
He was unmoving. Unflinching.
“This is as far as I go.” His voice was colder now.
The way his eyes stayed on me, as if he didn’t want to even blink for
fear I’d disappear, was so intense that I felt it cover me like a second skin.
His expression was dark and unreadable and sent a chill down my spine.
I knew without a doubt that Lars wouldn’t ever be far. He would always be
there. Never letting me leave.
There was no point in stalling because the longer I fought this moment
the more my chances of pissing him off increased. Besides, for all I knew,
he’d already seen me naked while I’d been out. Because he drugged me.
My hands trembled as I undressed. I kept my focus trained on the
ground, too aware of him being so close, watching me, and knowing
everything about me.
When I was naked, I folded my clothes, taking my time and putting
them neatly on the sink as if I still had control over something. Anything.
And then I threw my arm over my chest, covering my breasts, and covered
my pussy with a hand.
A quick glance at my reflection in the cloudy mirror showed my pale
face and the dark circles under my eyes. I twisted my hand while still
keeping my breasts covered and stared at my inner wrist. The tattoo on my
skin was a stark reminder of the man I now apparently belonged to.
Lars.
“Get in the tub, Dolly.”
I hated to admit to the heat that rushed through me at the sound of my
name rolling off his tongue.
I slid into the tub, and although I felt like I’d been standing there a
lifetime, the water was warm against my skin, and instantly, I felt a
calmness wash over me. But it was impossible to fully relax.
Every part of me was vibrating, and when Lars came closer and sat on
the toilet, far too close, it was a reminder that I wasn’t alone and probably
wouldn't ever be again.
 Out the corner of my eye, I saw him shift and lean, and then he handed
me a rag. I took it without saying a word and started washing. I could
imagine his eyes on me, watching every single move I made.
“I’m here, Dolly,” he said, breaking the silence between us. “And I
always will be.”
I wasn’t sure why I didn’t fight harder. Maybe it was exhaustion, the
weight of this nightmare wearing me down until I felt like I was in a hole.
Maybe I wasn’t used to having someone care for me—even in this fucked-
up way. I’d been alone my entire life, so abused and beaten down that this
situation was no different. I was used to this reality.
Or maybe, somewhere deep inside, I wanted to see how far this would
go, to give him just enough of what he craved, but never truly surrender.
Who would be stronger then? Who would hold the power then?
Let him see what he could never have—not fully, not freely.
I ran the washcloth over my arms, slow and deliberate, my skin
prickling, knowing that Lars was watching. He wanted me like no other. I
would use this to my advantage. I could hear his heavy but controlled
breathing, like he was waiting for something.
Waiting for more.
I let the water drip down my shoulders, the steam rising around me like
a cloud. A shield that somehow protected me. I wasn’t doing this for him. I
was doing it for me.
Remember, this is a cage.
Because while he thought he had all the control, while he believed he
was the one watching me, in the end, I’d be controlling him and his actions.
His emotions.
I glanced at him then, just a tilt of my head and a look from under my
lashes. God… he was desperate to have me.
Let him believe he was in control. Let him think he’d won.
Because I knew the truth.
In time, I’d be the captor, and he’d be my captive.

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 14

LARS

D
olly had finished bathing hours ago. I made sure she drank more
water and ate more food, and then I gave her space—much-needed
space I knew she craved right now. And although I wasn't in there
with her, I stood right outside the bedroom door and just listened.
I wanted to hear her breathe. I wanted to feel her body heat seeping into
my own because she was right in front of me. I wanted to smell her skin as I
ran my tongue over her neck.
Fuck, I was hard, my cock throbbing, my balls drawn up.
I stood in front of her closed bedroom door for the fifth time since she
closed it, and I reached down and grabbed my shaft through my jeans. No
light came through the crack at the bottom of the door, and I knew she was
asleep.
I couldn't stay away any longer. I didn't even try.
The room was mostly dark when I opened the door, but my eyes
adjusted right away. A soft glow from the security light at the front of the
cabin barely cast through her window, but the lamp in the living area
allowed me to spot her. I stared at her bed, where she slept soundly on the
farther side.
I stepped inside and left the door cracked open so a sliver of light was
still in the room. The space smelled like her, and I inhaled deeply, taking the
scent of Dolly into my lungs. I wanted her covering me, her aroma, the feel
of her naked body on mine… her pussy juices sliding down my cock as I
fucked her.
My motherfucking dick was hard as stone, and now, being so close to
what was mine, the thick length throbbed, and pre-cum was a steady bead at
the crown.
I walked around the bed toward the far side, where she slept soundly.
Dolly’s breathing was even and deep, and for long seconds, I just stood
there and watched her. I took several more steps closer, and before I knew
what I was doing, I unzipped my jeans, popped the button, and pulled my
massive cock out.
I held the girth in my palm, squeezing the base as I stared at her plump,
pink lips. The color looked a deeper red with the shadows playing over her
face, and all I could picture was forcing her to her knees and making her
take my dick all the way to the back of her throat until tears streamed down
her cheeks.
With my free hand, I reached out, gathering the strands of hair that fell
along her cheek. She was so soft, so feminine. The lock felt like silk, and I
rubbed it between my thumb and forefinger.
Dolly shifted slightly, the movement causing the strands I held to slip
from my grasp. She continued to sleep deeply, but the new position put her
on her back, the blanket slipping below her breasts, so I could make out her
hard little nipples pressing against the material.
The longer I stared at her tits, the more I could make out the dark circles
of her areolas. My mouth watered, and I started jerking off. I dragged my
hand up and down the length, squeezing the base before sliding my palm up
and tightening it around the tip, pushing out pre-cum.
I couldn’t stop the groan that spilled from me, the sound slightly rousing
her, and she shifted on the bed again. But she didn’t wake up, and I wasn't
sorry that I was being a pervert right now as I masturbated to the sight of
my little darling.
A part of me wanted her to wake up, so she would’ve seen me crowding
her, hovering above her as I fucked my fist to the image of her lying
helpless in bed. I wanted to hear her inhale sharply in shock, then see her
eyes widen when she noticed how big my cock was.
I was too far gone in my lust and need for her. I didn't stop myself from
jerking off faster and harder. Dolly was my fucking obsession. She was a
virus in my body, consuming me and slowly killing me from the inside out.
 And I didn't want the cure.
I needed to touch her while I touched myself… while I let my orgasm
take me under and I came all over her.
I ran my finger over her bottom lip, then along her jawline and down
her neck. She turned her head in my direction, her perfect lips parting
slightly. I shifted closer, placing one knee on the bed. The mattress dipped
slightly, but Dolly had to be exhausted because she still didn't wake up.
Cum was a clear, sticky mess dripping from my cock slit and onto the
sheets. So close to her body that it turned me on even more.
I kept moving my finger down her chest, circling the underside of her
breasts, and trailing lower until I got to the hem of her shirt. I pushed the
material up, showing off the expanse of her belly and higher until her
breasts were exposed.
Christ, I wanted to tear all of her clothes away so there was nothing
obstructing my view. I crouched onto my haunches and continued to jerk
off. I wanted to pop her nipple into my mouth and suck on it hard enough it
hurt, and I could’ve gotten myself off from that act alone.
This felt really fucking right.
My lust and obsession with Dolly were consuming me at a neck-
breaking speed.
Jerking off wasn’t how I wanted this to go. I wanted to wait, to let
myself build up until Dolly was the one who relieved me. I wanted to have
her the way I wanted, but the temptation clawed at me, and I couldn't stop
myself.
I bared my teeth, clamping down on my molars as I felt my orgasm rise.
I wanted to close my eyes and just exist in the pleasure, but I refused to
take my gaze off her. The tension in my body built, every nerve on fire, as I
lost myself to the thought of her—her taste, her warmth, her scent… that
she was mine.
And then my release finally came, and I held in my gruff growl of
ecstasy as I shuddered. The pleasure rolled through me, crashing all around
like a wave that left me panting and sweaty, but even though I was
temporarily sated, it still wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough until Dolly submitted to me fully, willingly or
not.
I pushed myself up and glanced down at my still-hard cock. My orgasm
covered the floor and the sheet that hung off the bed. A sticky, white mess
that was also dripping down the underside of my dick.
I didn't bother cleaning up. I wanted her to wake and see the dried
product of my desire for her. A sick, twisted part of me wanted her to see
my cum all over the floor and sheets, so she’d know I jerked off to the sight
of her sleeping. Right next to her unconscious, delectable body.
I was a vile fuck, but I accepted who I was. I embraced the shit out of it.
Grabbing my cell out of my back pocket, I pointed the camera at
Dolly’s sleeping form. There was no service this far out in the middle of
nowhere, but I didn’t need to call anyone. I needed nothing nor anyone but
Dolly.
I took a handful of pictures of her.
Close-ups of her lips.
Strands of her strawberry blonde hair that fell over the white pillow.
The slight rise of her breasts under the thin material of her shirt.
My cum-dripping cock with her in the background.
Fuck, I was hard all over again.
After putting my phone in my back pocket once more, I carefully got
undressed so it wouldn’t fall out, folded my clothes up, and put them on the
foot of the bed, glancing at my wristwatch. It was late. The cabin was quiet
except for the soft sounds of Dolly’s breathing and the occasional noises of
the animals scurrying around outside of these four walls.
She looked peaceful, as though all the fear and uncertainty of her life
right now—the weight of it covering her—had been washed away. She’d
realize she was safest with me.
My chest tightened at the sight of her, at the thought that she belonged
here with me.
To me.
She was so fragile at this moment, so delicate. I wanted to protect her…
even from myself. Slowly, I eased onto the bed beside her, careful not to
wake her. She was fully dressed, while I was completely naked.
I wrapped an arm around her abdomen, pulling her close, feeling the
warmth of her body against mine. With my eyes closed, I inhaled deeply, a
low rumble leaving my chest. She stirred but didn’t wake.
My hand rested on her hip, and I closed my eyes, continuing to breathe
in her scent. I pulled her back fully against me and held her tighter. I didn't
stop myself from letting my hand drift to the hem of her shirt and slowly
push it up, touching the soft skin beneath the material yet again.
 “Mmm,” I hummed softly. My dark desire tried to surge up and take
control once more, but I pushed the demon back with a vengeance.
I shifted, pressing myself against her, my cock rock hard, even after just
coming. My twisted arousal was growing to a fever pitch all over again. She
felt too good, too perfect. The way her body fit against mine was
maddening. Meant for me in all ways.
I swallowed hard, trying to quell the urge to take her, to wake her up,
spread her legs, and slide my thick cock deep in her pretty cunt. My self-
control was thankfully like an iron fucking wall this time.
I lay there, holding her, every muscle in my body tense with my desire,
knowing that soon enough Dolly would be mine completely.
And I wouldn’t ever have to hold back.

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 15

DOLLY

I
woke up with the remnants of restful sleep clinging to me like a
weighted blanket. I didn't want to get up, not when I knew exactly where
I was and what my future looked like. And although I was unsure of so
much, for the first time since this entire situation began, I felt rested. I
felt… good. Physically, at least.
So I lay there for several moments, just listening to the sound of birds
chirping outside and staring at the strip of light that filtered through the old
curtain.
But I knew I couldn’t hide in here forever. The truth was I didn’t want
to. I needed fresh air. I needed to feel the sun on my face and the wind in
my hair. As I stretched under the sheets and then pushed myself up, about to
swing my legs over the edge of the mattress, something caught my eye.
At first, I didn't know what I was looking at. It was a small spot on the
floor near the bed, dried and white. I noticed more markings on the sheets,
and the longer I looked at it, the harder my heart stuttered.
A knot formed in my stomach as realization crept in, dread spreading
through me like ice. I glanced behind me at the closed bedroom door, then
back at the spot beside me. The second pillow was indented, and when I ran
my fingers over the sheets, I snatched my hand away and gasped.
They were warm.
I bit my lip, trying to steady my breath, my mind racing unsure of what
to think or even do. But I knew deep down that whatever happened while I
slept was anything but innocent.
God, I thought. I knew what had happened. Lars had jerked off while I
slept, and then he slipped into bed and slept beside me all night. And I had
been completely unaware.
A part of me wanted to be disgusted. I wanted to feel nothing but
revulsion consuming me because what other sensations would a normal,
rational person have? But I didn’t. I felt neither of those things. In fact, I
felt…. No. If I didn’t acknowledge the wicked feelings starting to fill me
up, then maybe I could still hold on to a modicum of my sanity.
But maybe I’m not sane? Maybe I’m meant to be here because I’m just
as fucked up as he is.
I moved to the end of the bed and left my legs hanging over the
mattress, my shoes I’d slept in not quite reaching the floor, just trying to
settle myself from the inside out and allow my thoughts to straighten as
well.
I thought I’d been dreaming. I remembered feeling warm and safe…
and most definitely not alone. Memories of arms wrapping around me and
pulling me in close had felt so real.
Because it was.
But when I woke up, I was alone, yet his phantom touch was a scar on
my body.
The thought of Lars holding me all night made me shiver but not
entirely from fear.
And that scared me more than anything else.
I heard the door creak open and looked over my shoulder. I didn't know
if my lack of immediate anxiety was something I should be concerned with.
My mind was still whirling with thoughts of what went on while I was
asleep, but I forced myself to focus as Lars stepped into the room.
Of course, his presence loomed with ominous intent.
He said nothing at first, just watched me, his gaze unsettling as he
scanned every inch he could see of me. I didn't miss how his gaze flickered
to the side of the bed where I knew he slept all night. But he didn’t look
toward the mess he made, and I felt my face heat as I pictured how he
probably looked jerking off while I slept unaware.
Now, my anxiety started to rise, and I clutched the blanket next to my
hip, unsure of what was coming next as I continued to watch him over my
shoulder. But I was surprised when he stepped inside and pushed the door
fully open, implying he wanted me to step out of it.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked, a tiny smirk lifting one corner of his
mouth.
I swallowed, then licked my lips. My throat felt too tight and dry to
answer. I knew he asked me just because he wanted to get a sick rise out of
me.
When I didn’t speak, he told me, “I have something for you.”
My heart raced as a thousand possibilities flashed through my mind,
none of them comforting.
“Come on, Dolly. I promise you’ll like it.”
When I didn't move, he exhaled, apparently frustrated.
“You’ll learn to trust me.” He stared into my eyes, like he desperately
wanted those words to sink in and be true. “I thought we could eat breakfast
outside. The fresh air and sunshine will make you feel better.”
I barely hesitated before slipping off the bed because going outside was
too much of a temptation, and I couldn't—and didn’t want to—stop myself
or fight him on this.
With legs that felt too shaky to even walk straight, I moved around the
bed. Lars stood by the door, waiting, his eyes never leaving me as I stopped
in front of the chair and grabbed the sweater I’d left on it last night after my
bath. My heart pounded in my chest as I moved toward him. When I was
about to pass him, I looked away. His stare—his presence—was too intense,
and I felt it on and in every single part of me.
Even though my pulse pounded in my ears, I could still hear that the
cabin was silent except for the faint sound of wind and birds chirping
coming from outside. No TV, no radio—just nature—and it was calling to
me. But still, I stopped, pressed my back to the hallway wall, and waited for
him to move in front of me. I swore he leaned in close to me and inhaled as
he passed.
When he kept walking, I followed him down the narrow hallway, my
gaze darting around as I took in every little part of the cabin I could see.
The walls were made of dark, weathered wood, covered with handmade art
pieces that seemed old-world.
The hallway opened up to a small living room, an intimate kitchen, and
a stone hearth that was already alive with crackling flames in its fireplace. I
stared at the fireplace, a pile of chopped wood neatly stacked beside it. I
realized I was breathing harder and tried to calm myself.
The furniture was simple and hand carved. Upholstered, wooden
armchairs were in front of the fireplace, worn but comfortable-looking.
There was a worn two-seater table and a faded rug beneath it that was close
to the kitchen. Everything about the place felt old and untouched by time,
like it had been here forever, hidden away in these woods.
It probably has.
Lars went into the kitchen, and I watched him gather what I assumed
was the breakfast he’d spoken of that we’d eat outside.
I kept glancing around, wanting to know everything I could about my
prison. My gaze drifted to the lone window in the living room. Beautifully
embroidered curtains were on either side of the glass, but they too looked
old and sun-bleached. The glass was cloudy, but I could see all the trees
right outside and the swatches of sunlight that filtered through the treetops.
Noise of Lars gathering items filled the small interior, and I swallowed
hard when he headed toward the front door. My breath caught in my throat
as he turned the knob and pulled the door open. The sun broke into the
cabin, and for a second, I squinted at how bright it was.
The cool morning air blew inside and touched my skin. It had been days
since I felt and smelled fresh air and since the sunlight had caressed my
skin. I was walking toward the opened doorway before I knew I was doing
it.
“You’re free to go outside.”
I realized I’d stopped. Maybe my unease was pouring off me?
Breathing something other than the confined cabin air inside was too
tempting to resist, so I kept walking the rest of the way through the cabin,
right out the front door, and onto the small, wooden porch.
“I want you to explore, Dolly,” Lars said from behind me, his voice
steady but somehow softer. “There’s nowhere to go but here.” And just like
that, his words felt like chains, reminding me I wasn’t actually free to do
anything.
I glanced back at him, surprised he stood several feet behind me, giving
me space. I swallowed again and stepped off the porch but glanced at him
again, expecting he’d shift his calm attitude toward me and pull me back in,
changing his mind.
 But his body remained still, his dark gaze watching me. He’d been so
controlling up until this point. Yet right now, he was giving me space,
allowing me to put a semblance of distance between us. It felt like a trick,
yet a deep part of me told me this was real.
I’d slept with my shoes on, the survival instinct in me saying I needed to
be ready for anything. To run. But when I stepped onto the forest floor for
the first time, I wished I was barefoot, able to feel the soft earth beneath my
toes and the soles of my feet.
I took a breath, the fresh air filling my lungs in a way I hadn’t realized I
needed so desperately. I walked farther from the cabin, the space between
Lars and me growing as I glanced around the forest and took in the natural
beauty of it all.
As I kept walking, I felt my smile grow when I felt the warmth of the
sun on my skin and the wind brushing through my hair, teasing the tendrils.
The trees were dense all around me, the trunks ranging from young and
skinny to enormously thick with countless decades of age. The ground was
uneven from the undergrowth with flora sprouting from the earth and trying
to reach for the sunlight.
I couldn't lie. I had to admit I wasn’t even thinking about whether I
should make a break for it. I should’ve been looking for escape routes and
noticing if there were clear paths. But instead, I admired how utterly
secluded we were. There was not course that would’ve guaranteed an
escape. Even if I did run, where would I have gone? It was obvious the
cabin was deep in the woods, with no visible signs of civilization.
My lips tingled to call for help at one point, but I loved being outside
too much to ruin that. I started making mental notes. Each step farther from
the cabin felt like a step into unknown territory, but I couldn’t stop my
exploration because I felt a sort of euphoria fill me.
There was this strange feeling gnawing at me. Something that wasn’t
fear. I hated Lars for what he’d done. I hated being his prisoner. But I
couldn’t ignore the way he’d been taking care of me.
He was controlling and possessive, but it was laced with something else.
He cares about me. Truly. Genuinely.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that.
It made me sick to even humanize him and this situation he put me in.
But I couldn’t help it. He made sure I ate. He brought me water, clothes,
and wanted me to be clean. I’d never had anyone take care of me like that
before, not in any sense of the words.
Every gesture chipped away at the clear line that was drawn between
captor and captive. And that was what we were. That was what this
relationship was.
But is it really?
I shook my head to clear the confusing thought.
In this moment, I didn't feel like a captive at all. He was freeing me… in
a sense.
Before I realized how long I walked, a small creek came into view. I
glanced behind me, seeing the cabin in the far distance while Lars was a
few feet from me. I wasn’t breathing hard, and my pulse wasn’t racing. I
felt at ease and calm right now.
I stopped by the creek, staring at the water as it trickled over rocks as
my mind wandered. As much as I wanted to hate him, I was confused and
really began thinking about everything at greater length and depth.
Something in my chest twisted painfully, and I pressed a hand there,
trying to shove the feeling down.
I’d always been so alone. So lonely.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, but after long moments, I finally
forced myself to turn away from the creek. But when I spun, I saw Lars had
spread out a blanket, set out the food he brought, and gestured for me to sit
and eat.
He hadn’t said anything else. He just let me be and do it at my own
pace. But the weight of his gaze stayed on me as I sat down and started
eating with no other prompting.
And when he sat across from me and started picking at the food for the
first time since he’d taken me… I truly wasn’t afraid. At all.
I should detest him and only be focused on escaping. But why did the
thought of him sleeping beside me last night make me feel warm?
And why was I playing with the idea that I wanted him to do it again?

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 16

DOLLY

W
e’d stayed outside for hours, and I even found myself lying on the
blanket Lars brought for our picnic and just looking at the sky. I was
pretty sure I even fell asleep, but when I opened my eyes, I was still
in the same spot, staring at the white clouds drifting across the baby blue
canvas which was only broken up by the dark branches overhead.
Lars never rushed me. In fact, it was when the weather changed—the
wind becoming chillier and the sky darkening—that we finally headed back
to the cabin.
It seemed surreal that I voluntarily went back into the place I was being
held captive, but here I was, sitting in the living room and staring at the fire
as it roared before me.
The sounds of the forest didn’t fade but changed as darkness settled in,
filling the interior of the cabin with quiet nocturnal noises that mixed with
the crackle and pop of the flames licking over the logs. I’d taken a bath
already, Lars giving me privacy as I soaked in the warm water. My body
wash still lingered on my skin, reminding me of where I was when I bought
it just days ago.
When I was free.
I knew that every minute spent in this place was another minute I’d
crawl deeper into his trap and under his control. And with every second, I
was unsure of where I stood in my life and in this world.
 Although Lars had said little of anything since we stepped out of the
cabin just this morning, his presence was very commanding, and I’d felt
him watching me at every second.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and tightly pulled the cardigan
around me that I’d put on after my bath. The fire was crackling wildly,
casting flickering shadows across the worn stone hearth and wooden walls.
Lars came into my peripheral vision, holding two mugs and handing me one
of them. I said nothing as I took the offered cup and focused on him as he
took a seat across from me in the other tattered and worn armchair.
His gaze was forever fixed on me, dark and always unreadable.
“It’s just tea,” he said, his voice soft but holding that same weight it
always did when he saw me eyeing the light amber-colored liquid. He took
a sip from his cup, then set it on the small table beside him, steam rising
from it in white tendrils.
I hesitated for a moment before taking a sip from my mug. My hands
curled around the warm porcelain as if I had no control over them, my
fingers trembling.
We sat in silence, my eyes on the fire, yet I felt his focus was on me. I
stared into the flames, my mind racing with questions I’d been too afraid to
ask before tonight. Now, though, the fear and the faux freedom he’d given
me today wasn’t enough to keep me quiet.
“Why did you take me?” I asked softly, something I had questioned
once before, my voice barely above a whisper but feeling so thick, like oil
on my tongue. And although I spoke quietly, it felt like a scream in the
small interior.
When Lars didn’t respond right away, I glanced at him. He leaned back
in his chair, his eyes still on me, his expression impossible to read. He
always wore this stoic mask, one that made me feel like I was staring into
the face of a psychopath.
“Because I wanted you,” he said simply, the same response he’d given
me that first day, as if that explained everything. His voice was calm,
almost gentle, but there was darkness in the undertone.
He’s a predator waiting to pounce.
I frowned, confusion knotting my brow. The answer was so simple, but
it was the most complicated thing I’d ever heard. “But…” I shook my head.
“I don’t understand why. Why me? I’m nobody special.” I felt tears well in
my eyes but held them back.
 Lars tilted his head slightly, as if considering my words.
“What do you want with me?” The question spilled out before I could
stop it, my desperation for answers overpowering my need to be tactful. I
had to know what the endgame was, what my future was going to be like.
“You ask a lot of questions, Dolly.” He picked up his cup and took
another sip. “But you already know the answer to some. Isn’t that right?”
His tone was maddeningly calm, and I wanted to scream at him, to
punch and hit and fight him until I was too tired to think about it anymore.
“Plus, that’s a fucking lie,” he added, and I was taken back by his
statement, not sure what he meant, and he must’ve seen that in my
expression. “Thinking you’re not special.” He set the cup back down and
leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs as his dark and piercing
eyes held me hostage. “I’ve never met or seen anyone or anything more
special than you, little darling.”
I audibly gasped at his words. I felt they were the God’s honest truth. I
shook my head. “None of this makes sense. You can't… you can’t just take
someone because you want them.” I licked my lips and set the mug down,
my anxiety so high that I couldn't even think about consuming anything
right now. “That’s not how the world works.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though it didn’t reach his
eyes. He thought what I said was… humorous? “It’s not how your world
works, Dolly. True. But my world? That’s exactly how my fucking world
works.”
God, he sounded like everything and everyone bent to his will. He was a
male used to getting what he wanted, no matter the cost.
I stared at him, frustrated. “What does that even mean? Who are you,
Lars?” It was the first time I’d ever said his name out loud, and I could see
it affected him on a physical, visceral level.
His breathing changed. His pupils dilated. And I was pretty sure he
wasn’t even aware he growled low, like a beast who just sampled what he
wanted.
All because of his name.
“The world doesn't work like that for anyone. I want to know what you
really want with me.” I didn't keep the demanding tone from my voice.
His face was illuminated by the firelight, which cast shadows that made
him seem more devilish and unyielding. And the sight of him made my
heart race for other reasons, ones I wouldn't try to dissect.
 But I couldn’t ignore that he was a handsome man, that he had this
dangerous aura about him that attracted me.
I’m so fucked up.
“I’ll tell you what I want, Dolly, because it’s the simplest thing in the
world.” He was silent for a second, letting those words sink in. “I want you
to understand that you belong here with me. It’s the simplest answer, Dolly.
There is nothing out there for you. There never really was. Isn’t that right?”
I tried to swallow, but I had no saliva to complete the nervous action. I
didn't want to agree that he spoke the truth.
“And because of that fact, you don’t need to fight this or me.” He
leaned back and took on a relaxed stance. “All you have to do is accept this
is your fate, and your life will be perfect.”
A fat tear slid down my cheek, but it wasn't from fear. It was from the
truths he was speaking.
“You’ll be my queen, little darling. I’ll take care of you like you’ve
never been taken care of before. I have no other purpose in this life but to
live for you.”
Another tear skated down my cheek, and I wiped it away.
My heart hammered in my chest, but there was something about the
way he spoke, the honesty in his words, that made my breath catch.
Because I could see how genuinely he meant what he said.
He was obsessed. Crazed by his need to take care of me. He looked at
me like I was the be all end all. I was his world. His composure was
unsettling, laced with a twisted concern for my well-being that terrified me
even more… but had me yearning for what he promised.
Because I've never had that.
“And if I don’t… belong here?” I whispered, forcing the words out,
because my throat was so tight from my tear-welled eyes.
His expression hardened after I spoke. It was clear that what I said
pissed him off. “You’re so fucking wrong, Dolly. You do belong here. With
me. Whether you accept it or not, you’re mine now. I’m not letting you go.”
I was staring at the fire before he finished talking, unable to wrap my
head around everything he said.
“I’ll take care of you, little darling.”
“Why do you call me that?” I murmured, watching the charred logs
slowly die.
 “Because that’s what you are to me. My little darling who I’ll keep
safe.”
I looked at him then, holding his gaze, refusing to turn away as I felt my
anger rise right away with my confusion.
“But there’s no leaving, Dolly. No running. If you try, you know I’ll
find you. I've told you as much, but in your heart, you know there’s no
escape.”
I felt my face heat. “I know,” I pushed out through my gritted teeth. A
shiver ran down my spine. It was a combination of every emotion a human
could feel.
“And if you run and I catch you, you’ll regret it, Dolly.”
Lars wasn’t threatening me in the traditional sense. I knew that. I felt it.
But his words were a promise in a cold and calculating way. Lars stood then
and was right in front of me before I could react.
He reached out, and I was too frozen to do anything but let him touch
me. He brushed his hand against my cheek, his fingers warm from where
he’d just been holding his tea mug, the contents hot and heating his skin.
I was afraid, obviously, but his touch was surprisingly soft, and the look
in his eyes ensnared me. It kept me in place as if he were claiming me with
just that gentle press of his palm against my face and the emotions
displayed clearly in his eyes.
“Say you’re mine,” he murmured, staring at my lips. “I need to hear you
say it like I need my next breath.”
I was panting so hard, and I felt sweat beading my brow from…
feelings I didn't want to explore. I pulled strength from the deepest, darkest
ones consuming me, and I just reacted. My hand moved on its own, and
then my palm connected with his face.
The crack was instant, and although he was huge and muscular, I knew I
took him off guard because his head cocked to the side from the impact. I
used his surprise to push him back, my palms on his wide, rock-hard chest
shoving him away with all my strength.
I used the small gap between us to stand, and I struck him again, then
dragged my nails down his arm where his shirt sleeve was pushed up, so I
connected with bare skin. His hiss broke through the sound of my rapid
breathing, my racing pulse in my ears, and the crackling of the fire.
We stood there for long seconds just staring at each other, and I flicked
my gaze down to his forearm to see four red welts forming on his skin from
my nails.
Hellfire crackled between us, but all I could feel was the oppressive
sense that no matter how much I resisted, I was already too far gone.
And because of that, I was going to fight until this all-consuming
feeling inside me finally took over against my will, when fighting was no
longer an option.
And God help me when I finally submitted.

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 17

DOLLY

I
still felt his hand on my wrist from when he tried to stop me as I ran.
I felt the sticky warmth of his blood on my skin.
God, I thought, looking down at my hand. It was covered in blood
from the deep scratches I’d given Lars before I left out the front door and
dove into the dark, ominous woods.
Everything was black, so inky and thick that branches slapped against
my arms and legs, my neck and face. But the sting and burn from those
vicious whacks was nothing compared to what Lars would do to me when
he caught me.
And he will catch me.
The sound of my breath rushing in and out of my mouth was loud but
not loud enough to drown out the sound of Lars rushing after me, his booted
feet crunching on the strewn leaves and twigs.
Help me! my mind screamed, but who was I asking for help? Who was I
begging to save me?
No one because the thrill of this chase had my blood rushing for a
different reason.
I’d never felt so… alive.
I didn’t see a break in the trees with moonlight shining through,
showing me a haven, a sanctuary. All I saw were the frightening arms of the
monsters that crept about the woods, hiding behind the wide trunks and
lurking in the shadows.
 I felt his breath on my nape and heard his growl in my ear. And then he
was on me, wrapping his hands around my waist and spinning me around so
he could slam my back to the nearest tree and press his big, hard body
against me.
Lars growled again, his lips so close to mine that I felt his warm breath
brush against them and heard the haggard sounds that vibrated his chest and
came from deep within his throat.
“I’m so glad you fucking ran.” Although his mouth was oh-so close, his
lips didn’t touch mine. “I thought I couldn’t get any harder.” He ground his
erection against my belly, and I gasped. Lars wrapped a hand around my
throat. “But feeling those sharp little kitten claws on my arm, knowing you
were the one who sank your nails into my flesh, and then watching you run
—” He hummed, his grip tightening on my throat, his fingers digging into
my suddenly fragile-feeling neck. “It made me harder than I’ve ever been.”
He dragged his lips to my ear and whisper-groaned, “Even harder than
when I was jerking off while I watched you sleep, little darling.”
I opened my mouth, but he squeezed me tighter, cutting off my airflow
until I was clawing at his fingers, knowing I was breaking more of his skin
and drawing even more of his blood. Lars was so big, his clothes not hiding
that fact, and I knew he was all cut and hard muscles beneath the material.
“Stop,” I whimpered, and he grinned wickedly, but he did loosen his
hold and allowed me to suck in a deep breath.
“You don’t really want that… do you?”
A moan left me, and I gasped at my depravity. I was… turned on by
this. When my eyes closed, I couldn’t help the rush of endorphins that
moved through my veins. I didn't want to stop it from saturating every
single internal part of me, not even if I could. This felt good, better than
anything I'd ever felt.
“Look at you,” he purred. “You’re blooming like a little flower.” He
towered over me, his presence so intimidating, yet it turned me on. “I want
your body, Dolly. I want your mind and thoughts and feelings and…
everything.” He dragged his tongue along my cheek and to my lips. “I want
your submission.”
My head was against the tree, the bark rough, but the feeling of Lars’s
big, warm body was a stark contrast. Although I felt his hand on my hip and
then sliding down to my outer thigh, I didn’t try to stop him.
I’m sick to want this.
 He gripped the elastic of my leggings and pushed them down, and I
shivered when my panties followed suit. The clothing hung around my
calves, and even though I physically wanted this—yearned for it, even—I
kept my legs squeezed tightly together.
“Open for me like a good girl.”
I shook my head but still did what he said. He didn't hesitate to slide his
hand between my thighs, his fingers on my bare pussy, those digits sliding
through my slit and smearing my wetness all around.
The feel of him fingering the most intimate part of me had me gasping,
and I tried to spread my legs wider, hindered by my leggings and crying
because I wanted more, even if my mind said this was so wrong.
Lust and self-disgust for wanting this from Lars slammed into me. I
started grinding my pussy on his fingers, feeling myself getting even wetter,
even more depraved with my desire.
This moment, so twisted in every sense of the word, made me feel better
and more alive than I ever had.
“Keep rubbing this perfect cunt on my hand. Keep soaking me, little
darling.”
As soon as I did what he said, I heard Lars rip my leggings in two, and
then he hiked my leg up and wrapped it around his waist. I also made out
the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down.
My pussy flooded when I suddenly felt his hot, hard, and massive cock
wedge right between my pussy lips, the crown not notching at my entrance
but the length of him aligning along my slit.
“God, you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He rolled his hips,
grinding himself on me, thrusting his dick through my juices, and all I could
do was curl my nails into his broad shoulders and hold on for what he had
planned. “Look at you, Dolly,” he said in the gruffest voice I’d ever heard
come from him.
I pried my eyes open to see him staring at me like a man who was not
just crazy but possessed.
“I want to treat you like a queen. I want you to only hear sweet and soft
words from me,” he growled and stepped back but only far away and long
enough to crouch and lift my leg again to hike it over his shoulder.
He stared up at me, a glint of dark need in his eyes as he used his hand
to spread my pussy lips wide, and then he looked down at what he exposed.
He made a sound of need mixed with frustration, and I squeaked as I was
suddenly lifted and moved to exactly where he wanted me.
The back of both of my thighs now rested on his shoulders, my back
against the tree, and the next thing I knew, he was dragging his tongue
through my pussy.
I gasped again, never having felt anything like this. His mouth was hot,
his tongue probing me like he was starving and dehydrated and only my
cunt could satiate him.
“But I can’t be sweet right now, Dolly,” he finished his earlier
confession through a growl, the vibrations spearing right through my clit
until my inner muscles clenched almost painfully. “I want to degrade you.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, waiting to see how far he’d go.
“You’re my perfect, fucking little whore, Dolly. You’re my beautiful
slut who makes my cock hard.” He dragged his tongue through my pussy,
flattening the muscle to encompass all of me, and I closed my eyes. “You're
the only one who makes me hard. You’re the only one I ever want to be
with and in every single fucking way.”
I was vaguely aware of one giant hand leaving my thigh, and when it
returned, I glanced down only long enough to see it now held a knife before
my vision shuttered once again. I didn’t panic. Not even when he placed the
knife at my inner thigh, pressing the blade in—slowly at first but adding
more pressure—as he continued to eat me out.
I felt the sting of pain, knew he’d broken my skin. But when I opened
my eyes and stared at him, I couldn’t help the wave of lust that slammed
into me as I watched him devour my pussy and then again when I eyed the
trail of blood that trickled down my inner thigh.
Lars groaned and broke the suction he had on my clit, and then he
immediately dragged his tongue along my thigh, lapping up the blood,
taking a part of me deep into his body.
“Be my good girl and give me what I want.”
My mouth opened on its own, the question on my tongue hanging
between us, yet I couldn’t get it out. But his next words told me I didn’t
need to speak for him to read me like an open book.
“Come on my mouth. Let me lap up that sweet pussy juice until I’m full
and no longer starving for you.”
My inner muscles clenched painfully, and I sucked in a sharp breath at
his lewd words.
 “I know this is wrong,” I finally said, and Lars pulled back just an inch
to stare hard into my eyes. “But I don’t want you to stop.”
His grin was slow and thorough, and then he was sucking on my clit
again and inching closer to forcing me to come.
He moved the blade down my thigh, easing up on the pressure
intermittently, but every once in a while, he would break the skin and away
from my cunt to lick at my blood. He went back to tormenting me between
my thighs until I felt my orgasm rise so fast I couldn't breathe.
I came violently, my legs clenching around his head, my head slamming
back against the tree. My cry sounded like a wounded animal dying alone in
the woods.
But I wasn’t al.one and dying. I was currently being held captive in
more ways than one, while my tormentor ate me out and made me come
like I’d never gotten off before.
And then I was on my feet, and Lars was standing and kissing me. He
probed my mouth, forcing me to taste my orgasm on his lips, the flavor
musky but slightly sweet. He pulled away, and I stared with what felt like
crossed eyes as he ran his tongue over his top and then his bottom lip.
“Touch me,” he growled… demanded. “Pull my hair. Make it hurt.”
I felt like I was in a dream as my body worked on its own, like it was a
whole other entity. I grabbed his hair and pulled the strands hard enough he
hissed. I lowered my hand and sucked in a breath when I saw the strands
that had come free in my grasp. He said nothing, just ground that monster
cock against my lower belly.
“Again,” he snarled, and I gave him what he wanted—gave him my
anger and lust in the form of vicious aggression and unrestrained passion.
And while I tugged and yanked at his hair—my anger and need for this
man to claim me taking over—he reached between us and started slapping
my pussy. He spanked me between my legs, that pain and pleasure I gave
him being returned to me tenfold.
“You want me to fuck you right here in the dark forest with all the
dangers around?”
I bit my lip, jerking his head so it cocked to the side from the force of
my hair pulling. He spanked my pussy again.
“Yeah, you do,” he murmured. “You want me to degrade you and show
you exactly what a beautiful slut you are.”
 “God,” I whispered when I felt his cockhead rub against my slit, my
slippery pussy making his gentle thrusting easy and slick.
“God isn’t here, sweetheart. And at the end of this, the only name you'll
be saying is mine.”

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 18

LARS

ook at you,” I whispered, staring in absolute awe at how beautiful

“L Dolly was. She trembled against me, and I knew she was scared but
also ready for what was to come. “You drive me fucking crazy,” I
groaned against her mouth, my voice nothing more than a gruff whisper.
I kept my lips pressed to hers, not kissing her but wanting her to know
that I’d never let her leave and would always keep her close.
“How afraid are you, sweet girl?” I still held the knife and pressed the
blade right at her jugular. I’d never really hurt her, nothing more than
superficially, and only that because it turned both of us on.
“You terrify me,” Dolly murmured, answering me, her body still
trembling against mine.
I closed my eyes and gathered my control after hearing her tell me how
scared I made her. I was a sick fuck for how hard I was. I’d gotten harder as
I chased her, knowing I’d catch her and that I would be fucking her right
here in the woods.
All I wanted was her.
All I desired was to make her feel good… and to make her hurt.
And all I could think about was fucking her and seeing if she’d bleed
for me.
With my hand on her throat and the knife at her jugular, I kissed her
hard enough I knew it caused pain. I bit at her lips, sucked at the discomfort
I caused, and started grinding my cock against her lower belly as I closed
the knife one-handed, then slipped it back onto my waistband.
“I’m not giving you sweet and gentle, not for our first time, and not any
time after that. You’ll take it rough and hard because that’s what I like, and
at the end of it all… you’ll come to want to please me.”
I was panting, harsh sounds leaving me, because I couldn’t control
myself right now.
I can’t ever control myself around Dolly.
“Beg me,” I demanded. “Beg me to fuck you like an animal, little
darling.” I slid the hand not clutching her throat down to grip her forearm,
right above my name tattooed on her wrist, and lifted the limb to press it to
the tree.
I stared at where I’d permanently marked her, my cock throbbing, pre-
cum steadily dripping from my cock and soaking my open pants. With one
more look at the ink, I let go of her arm and gripped my shaft, the length
coated in my own lubrication. I pushed her shirt up and ground my dick into
the skin of her bared belly. I groaned at how warm she was.
Her lips were parted as she sucked in air to fill her lungs, and her eyes
were wide as she stared at me. She hated this so much, her mind and body
at war over giving herself to me.
I squeezed my hand that was around her throat, and she gasped at the
tightening, but she didn’t even bother trying to remove it. Not that I’d let
her anyway.
“I hate you… this….”
“But you want it nonetheless.” I shoved a hand between her thighs,
feeling how drenched she was. My mouth crashed on hers and I devoured
Dolly with that kiss. It was primal and raw, rough and demanding. Our teeth
clashed together, and I fucked her between her lips with my tongue like I’d
been doing between her thighs.
“Fucking touch me, Dolly,” I demanded on a growl and continued
kissing her. And when she reached up and gripped my shoulders, digging
her nails into my flesh, I hissed and bit her tongue hard enough I felt the
flesh open. She cried out as her blood coated the inside of my mouth.
I rolled my hips back and forth until I had to ease up or I’d come all
over her, painting her with my cum like a beautifully vile work of art.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins, and I grew high from it, letting the
beast inside me start to take over.
 Hearing her gasp of pain when I sucked hard on her cut tongue had a
low groan spilling from me. And then I snapped, my inner primal animal
taking full control.
I pulled back slightly and ran my tongue over her lips, along her cheeks
and jaw, smearing her blood I’d gathered all over her face.
“You’re so fucking hot covered in blood. My good girl,” I whispered. I
braced my hands on either side of her head, digging my nails into the bark
and leaning in to really fucking crowd her. “Now put me inside you.” I
needed her to willingly submit, to go against her need to fight me and be the
one to break this final boundary.
But hell, even if she didn’t, I’d still make her impale herself on me.
“Do it, Dolly. Do it before you piss me off and I make it hurt until I
decide to make it feel better than anything you’ve ever experienced before.”
My threats were nothing but that—threats. The only pain I’d give her was
the kind that would ultimately get her off.
She fought me in her own way by not doing what I said, and so I
grabbed her hand and shoved it between our bodies, making her grip my
cock and align it with her cunt. I grasped hold of her jaw, prying her mouth
open. “Show me your tongue.”
She gasped, her tongue visible. I kissed her, sucking on that muscle
once again and drawing more blood from the wound.
I leaned back just enough to see my shaft, and then I spit a mouthful of
saliva and blood on my length, using it as lube. I didn’t need it because I
could see how wet she was, how fucking primed her little pussy was. But I
wanted to, the urge to be abhorrent and make her uncomfortable too strong
to hold back, knowing now that she liked that feeling.
I heard her gasp, most likely from shock at seeing my cock covered in
blood and spit. My feral instinct rose higher as I stroked my dick, rubbing
my palm along my shaft and getting it all lubed up.
“Look at how wet you are, dripping all over the fucking place, my good
little slut.”
With my rod in hand, I let go of her throat with the other, hiking her leg
over my hip, and God, she was perfect as she gave in, grabbed my dick, and
placed my crown at her hole.
I stared into her eyes, felt my teeth bare as my inner crazed animal rose,
and I shoved in deep with one thrust. I grabbed the back of her neck and
used my strength to pull her away from the tree and take her down to the
ground. I didn’t give a fuck if this was dirty or if it fucking hurt atop the
forest debris. I wanted her so damn badly that I was taking her right here,
right now.
I was panting like a psychopath as I covered her body with mine, my
weight and size so much bigger than her that I dwarfed her as the moonlight
illuminated her submitting to me.
Jesus, I was hard, my cock buried in her tight, little pussy, my hands
having found their way to her ass as I gripped the cheeks hard enough that
she hissed in pain.
“Arch that back. Pop those perfect tits up so I can suck on your little
nipples.” I’d all but torn away her clothing, her shirt now ripped on the side
and at the neckline, so it hung in tatters under her breasts.
I angled her ass up and ground my pelvis against hers, really pushing
every single inch of my shaft into her body. I felt the closed knife dig into
my hip as soon as I took her to the ground, and I tugged it off my
waistband, flipped it open with one hand, saw the moonlight catch the blade
and glinting off of it, and then tossed it a couple of feet from where we lay
for later.
She arched her back then, pulling my attention back to her body and
showing me what I wanted.
“This is wrong,” she whispered. “I should say no. I should stop this.”
I grinned, knowing she wouldn’t do any of that shit. Instead, she
moaned as I pulled out and pushed back in, doing it three more times, nice
and easy, even though all I could see myself doing—all I wanted to do—
was fuck her raw and hardcore.
When I was balls-deep inside her again, I leaned forward, rested my
forehead against hers, and closed my eyes, groaning as her pussy muscles
clenched around me. She whimpered, and then she clamped her pussy down
on me again, as if her body knew what it wanted… me. And it wanted me to
fill her up.
“Christ,” I said between clenched teeth, guiding myself in and out of
her, forcing my thick, huge dick into her tiny, perfect pussy. My vision
flashed red as my desire took over. “Never felt anything more perfect or
fucking incredible than being buried inside of you,” I snarled and grabbed a
chunk of her hair, yanking her head to the side and baring her throat.
My mouth watered to bite her, to give her hickies and break her skin, to
take her blood into my body. I didn’t deny myself or even try to talk myself
out of what I wanted. Instead, I started sucking on her neck, licking and
biting and leaving red and deep-purple marks, and finally sinking my teeth
in hard enough she cried out and tasting the coppery tang of her blood on
my tongue once again.
I started fucking her then, hard and fast, pounding into her so that I
knew she’d be sore tomorrow. I’d lavish attention on her cunt after the fact.
I’d make her feel even better after she came.
“You’ll always be my whore. Only mine. You’ll only ever submit to me,
Dolly.” I was breathing raggedly, my words distorted as I waged a
passionate war on her body. And as I kept fucking her, I knew if I didn’t
stop, I was going to come before she did, and I couldn’t have that.
Forcing myself to slow, I pulled out, lifted her off the ground, and
flipped her around. She had leaves and twigs in her hair, and her ripped
clothes were filthy from rubbing against the ground.
She’s never looked more gorgeous.
I had her in front of another tree, forced her to brace her hands on the
trunk, and bent her at the waist so her ass popped out and her legs spread. I
kicked her legs apart even more and grabbed my cock when I saw her pussy
lips gaping open from my stretching.
My palm cracked against her ass as if it had its own mind, and the sight
of her cheek shaking from the force had me jerking off furiously. I stepped
forward, notching my cockhead at her cunt again, and gripped her waist
before spearing her deep.
I pummeled all the way inside until the heavy weight of my balls
slapped her clit. I felt like I hit something inside of her on my next deep and
violent thrust. She cried out and lifted her ass more, rising on her toes and
silently asking me to go deeper. I hissed and pulled back, watching my
length come into view, all slick and glossy as I kept the tip lodged in her for
just a second before I slammed back inside.
“Come for me,” I ordered and slapped her ass repeatedly until her skin
was red and my handprints were visible on her flesh. I wanted her black and
blue from my passion. I grabbed her hair, pulling on the strands, and felt her
pussy start milking my cock. “Come on, girl. Give me what I want so I can
fill you up and watch my jizz drip out of your little hole.”
And then she did just that—came for me, crying, tears streaking down
her cheeks, and her self-hatred but need to feel all of this was written across
her face.
 “Give it to me again, Dolly.”
Her body followed my order without hesitation as she clamped down
and came all over me again, gushing out from around my dick and soaking
my inner thighs.
Fuck, I was holding off on letting go, wanting to keep this going. I
edged as long as I could, but I wouldn’t be able to stop my orgasm for much
longer, not when sweat blurred my vision as it dripped into my eyes and the
sensations heightened as my sight was taken away for the moment. I ground
myself against her before pulling out and pushing back in. “Incredible,
Dolly. Feel that? You’re taking it all, letting me use you like my beautiful
cocksleeve.”
“You bastard,” she finally said, insulting me, but that only turned me on
more.
“I’m your bastard, baby girl. And you’ll take every fucking inch of my
dick and every single drop of my load.” All I could think about as I finally
let go of her hip just long enough to wipe my eyes was coming in her,
pulling out to watch it slip from her hole, then scooping it up and forcing
her to lick my fingers clean.
My entire body tensed at that thought as I felt myself give in to the
pleasure. I looked at her ass as it shook from my fucking, and I spit on the
cheeks, smearing my hand over them as I pounded into her and rubbing my
saliva into her skin.
And that’s what set me off.
“I love defiling you,” I growled before my head tipped back and my
eyes squeezed shut as I finally came, hard and powerfully. I emptied my
balls into her pussy until it was overfilled and I could feel it slipping out
from where we were connected, where I continued to thrust savagely, never
slowing.
The snarl that left me was like a beast had taken over, and my motions
became even more intense, my orgasm still going strong. I held her hips so
tightly I knew I’d leave bruises, and that drove my pleasure even higher…
until her arms gave out, and I knew I needed to stop so the position against
the tree wouldn’t harm her.
I was sated, and my balls were drained. I gentled my grip and sagged
forward, bracing a hand on the trunk above her head, and breathed through
the aftereffects of ecstasy.
 “So good, little darling,” I groaned against the length of her spine, then
dragged my tongue up the center of her back and licked off the salty drops
of perspiration.
She didn’t respond, but I didn't expect her to be coherent after what
we’d just experienced.
With one harsh exhale, I forced myself to step back and grunted when
my cock slipped from the tight, hot confines of her pussy. I stared at how
beautiful she was between her thighs and felt my cock jerk in arousal all
over again at the sight of my jizz being pushed out of her pussy by post-
orgasmic contractions.
I smeared two fingers over her slit, then pushed them inside her,
gathering my cum. I helped her to stand fully and turned her around. She
immediately rested her back against the tree as if she couldn't stay upright
easily or maybe because her knees were about to buckle. Male pride filled
me because I knew I fucked her hard enough she could probably barely
walk right now.
When she saw what was covering my fingers, she slowly shook her
head, which just made me grin. I grabbed her jaw, pried her teeth open, and
shoved my fingers into her mouth. “If you bite me, I’ll fuck you with my
fist, Dolly.”
Her eyes widened, but I still heard the muffled moan of arousal.
“Lick them clean and swallow it all.” After she did what I said, I kissed
her, plunging my tongue into her mouth and tasting a combination of the
both of us.
When I pulled back, she stared into my eyes, and I knew this woman
would be the end of me. I’d die before I lived without her.
And with that thought in mind, I lifted her into my arms and carried her
back to the cabin.

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 19

DOLLY

S
leep was lying heavily upon me, but I felt really good.
I heard a deep, male voice whispering in my head, slightly muffled,
so I couldn't quite make it out, couldn’t place it right away.
“Jesus… you taste so good. This little pussy is the sweetest fucking
thing I’ve ever had.”
Slowly, sleep faded, and I became much more aware. I opened my eyes
and glanced around the room, seeing the was door open and the soft yellow
glow from the hallway washed inside.
It was when I saw the enormous body between my spread thighs that I
gasped.
My initial reaction was to push him away when I realized he was eating
me out, but I was laid out before him like an offering, and he was a dark
god. My body reacted first. I had my hands on his head, exerted pressure,
but it was a half-assed motion because it felt too good having him licking
and sucking on me.
I gripped his hair as he dragged his tongue from my pussy hole to my
clit and then sucked the little bundle into his mouth. Lars hummed around
the sensitive spot, and I gasped at how the vibrations slammed into the very
center of me.
“I’m so fucking hard,” he murmured against my drenched center,
opening his mouth and covering my pussy with it to suck on everything at
once. I moaned, tipping my head back and biting my lip in pleasure.
 And when he pushed his tongue into my pussy, my inner muscles
spasmed around him, trying to draw him in farther. I needed something
more substantial than what he was giving me.
I felt my orgasm creeping to the surface, but I fought it. Some sense of
self-preservation told me to fight, to not make this easy on him.
“No, Dolly. You’ll look at me when I make you come.”
No. Fuck you, I thought, but still, my eyes opened and met the intense
stare that Lars had on me. He looked so massive between my legs, his
hands huge and pressed to my inner thighs keeping me open. He was tan. I
was pale. And it was a stark contrast as I watched him flatten his tongue and
lick me like a melting ice-cream cone.
“Come for me,” he groaned against my pussy, and the pressure peaked
and exploded inside me. The entire time, Lars stared into my eyes as he
dragged out my pleasure. While the aftereffects were still claiming me, he
pulled back and shoved two thick fingers into my pussy.
I bit my lip hard. The wound from earlier split open and stung in the
best of ways. It was all an explosive sensation and experience that I didn’t
want to end. Wasn’t that a fucked-up feeling?
I felt my eyes become heavy, and when I feared I’d close them and just
succumb to how good it all felt, the swift sting of Lars slapping my pussy
had my eyes widening and a gasp leaving me.
“Jesus, you’re so damn beautiful when you submit to me.” He slapped
my pussy again and again and then spit a mouthful of saliva onto the
erotically abused flesh, all while I groaned for more.
My back arched on its own at the force of him finger fucking me. He
pulled them all the way out after pumping the digits into my pussy three
times, held up the glistening digits, and then sucked them into his mouth.
I realized at that moment he was totally naked, his cock hard and
pointing right at me, pre-cum dripping out of the tip and onto the sheets
between us.
“You're disgusting,” I whispered, and before I knew what I was doing, I
rose and brought my palm across his cheek, hard. The crack was loud, my
hand instantly stung, and Lars’s head wrenched to the side from the force.
Everything was frozen in time for a moment as he slowly turned his
head back to face me, our eyes locking.
He spat in his palm and brought it to his cock, jerking off as he grinned
evilly at me. I felt my eyes widen all over again as the wounds on his
forearm—the ones I’d given him with my nails earlier tonight—opened
back up while his muscles contracted as he masturbated. Blood welled but
not enough to drip.
Following my eyes to the redness there, Lars lifted his arm to get a
closer look. I didn’t know what I expected him to do… maybe wipe it away
like a normal person might. But what I definitely wouldn’t have expected in
a million years was him to lean over to the bedside table, grab his knife that
he flipped open with a flick of his wrist, and then stare into my eyes as he
dragged the sharp tip deeply along the open scratch.
I gasped, my first instinct to reach out and stop him, to help him stanch
the blood that started to trickle out of the deep cut and made a track down
his tan flesh and onto the sheets to mix into a mess with his pre-cum. Even
after I just lashed out and slapped the shit out of him.
“Look at you, sweetheart.” Using his other hand, now free of the knife,
he smeared the blood all over his arm and palm and then started using the
red fluid as lube to jerk off with. He repeated the action of gathering more
of his blood, and shocking the hell out of me—again—he rubbed it between
my thighs, coating me with his gore. “My filthy, fucking girl. So beautiful
when you’re covered in my blood that I’m gonna fuck into you.” He
brought his hand to his mouth and licked it clean.
The thick, heavy-looking length of his cock was intimidating as he
gripped it and pointed it right at me. The crown was slick and glossy with
pre-cum, and when he grabbed the base, squeezing himself from root to tip,
more cum beaded at the slit.
“Makes me hard that you’re marked by me in every way.” His voice
was so deep. He could turn my body on with just a few choice words, it
seemed. “I know this little cunt is sore from me fucking it. But I’m about to
make it even sorer.” He gave my pussy another slap, and the wet sound
echoed in the room.
I gasped, unable to form any words at his crudeness and rough handling.
He spanked my pussy again.
Smack.
And again.
Smack.
All while I whimpered and lifted my hips for more.
“You like me slapping your little pussy.” He didn’t phrase it like a
question. “Hit me again,” he ordered and leaned in, bracing his free hand on
the bed beside my head. “Do it. Make me harder with the pain.”
I felt like my jaw unhinged at hearing him ask—all but begging—for
me to hurt him.
And I wanted it. God, I wanted to unleash my rage on him.
“Go on, little darling. Slap the fuck out of me. Hit me. Bite me. Make
me hurt like I hurt you.”
I clamped my teeth together, felt my anger and pleasure rise, and before
I knew it, I was slapping him once, twice… and on the third time, I shoved
him back. He twisted, landing on his back and taking me with him, so I was
now straddling his waist.
I felt this animal take control of me. He gripped my waist and lifted me,
sliding me down on his hard cock, taking him fully inside me. I saw red and
dragged my nails down his chest, leaving scratches over his pectoral
muscles.
This wasn’t me. I wasn't a violent person. But all this emotion was
welled up in my body and came out in this physical form.
The tears were next, but they weren’t one of being sad. They were of
being… relieved. Of freedom. Of being… alive.
And the entire time I was riding Lars, he lay there taking everything I
gave him. The pain of my nails on his chest. The pleasure of my pussy
clamping down on his cock.
“God,” he groaned and gripped my ass cheeks as he guided me up and
down his length. “You’re the most beautiful, perfect thing I’ve ever fucking
seen in my life, Dolly.” He grunted and growled as I rolled my hips and
sought my own pleasure. “That’s it. Fuck me.”
I tipped my head back and moaned, so close to going over the edge I
felt my fingers and toes starting to tingle.
“You’re such a good girl. I want to fill you up, Dolly, so there isn’t room
for anything else.”
I was panting, so close… so… close.
“Everything’s changed,” he hissed out as if speaking to himself. “Look
at me.”
I did what he said, forcing my eyes open and staring into his.
“Say you’re mine.” The urgency in his words and the way he stared at
me after he spoke them told me this man was on the precipice of losing his
mind unless I gave him this.
And I didn't.
 But I was.
I came in a shattering explosion.
“Look at me!” His voice sounded distorted, and I realized I closed my
eyes again. When I opened them, it was to see Lars’s top half had risen
from the mattress, and his face—with its savage expression—was only an
inch from mine.
“I better never have to tell you again to look at me when I make you
come.”
Sweat beaded and fell down his temple, and I found myself spearing my
hands into his now damp, dark hair to tug on the strands.
“You fucking look at me while I make you come.”
I kissed him hard, making sure it hurt him. I bit his lip until he was the
one bleeding for me once again.
Lars snarled and started lifting his hips, driving his cock deep into me,
and pushing my pleasure even higher.
“I want you to tell me you’re mine.”
There it was again… that pleading note in his voice. But I refused to
give into him in that context. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Instead, I gasped as he plowed into me, my body bouncing on top of his,
my head shaking “no” in response to giving him what he wanted.
He snarled something nasty and vulgar and then pressed his lips to mine
to growl, “Say the fucking words. I want to feel them because you mean
them.”
He was frightening.
He was incredible.
And then he was orgasming, a harsh roar leaving him as he found his
release. His neck muscles strained, his teeth were bared, and he hissed out
vile words as he came inside me. The feeling of his cum was thick and hot
and filled every inch of me from the inside out. I gasped at how visceral the
feeling of his climax was.
And when he filled me to the brim and spilled out of where we were
connected, he sagged back on the mattress and took me with him, my body
sprawled over his, our breathing haggard, our bodies sweaty.
We lay there in silence, my inner muscles rhythmically clenching
around his cock.
God, he’s still so hard.
 With my cheek to his chest, I closed my eyes and warded off the
dizziness from my orgasm. I felt his fingers trail along my back in slow,
rhythmic motions that started to lull me to sleep.
It was when I was on the verge of unconsciousness that I felt his warm
breath against the crown of my head before I heard his harsh whisper.
“The only thing that will separate us is death, Dolly.”

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 20

DOLLY

I
felt the warmth of the morning light as it filtered through the fully
opened curtains. The change in weather was coming fast, and the air in
the room was chilly. I pulled the blankets up to my chin and stared out
the window.
The thick remnants of sleep clung to me—as did what happened last
night. I rubbed my legs together, the soreness between my thighs enough
that I grimaced slightly. I felt a stickiness on my skin and remembered
Lars’s cum leaking out after he fucked me.
Adrenaline rushed through me as last night replayed in my head, this
erotic, kinky, and dangerous movie reel repeating like my very own porno.
I blinked slowly, my body tangled in the warmth of the sheets, and the
very idea of getting out and facing the reality of what I’d done—what I did
with Lars totally consensually—scared the hell out of me.
But despite the fear of facing the music, so to speak, something was
different, unfamiliar… but welcoming. What I did know was I wasn’t in the
small room I’d grown up in. I wasn't in the purgatory that had always been
my life.
The life I tried running from for as long as I could remember.
I closed my eyes and inhaled. The sheets held the deep and wholly
masculine scent that was Lars. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered
that I wasn’t in my room—no, not mine, the one he kept me in. I was in his
bedroom.
 I shifted carefully, my body reminding me I was his slut last night, first
in the forest then in his bed.
And I don’t regret any of that.
My mind was a blur of memories—of Lars chasing me through the
woods, of his raw intensity consuming me… and how I needed more of it.
And then he finally caught me, claimed me, and made me his whore. I
should’ve been afraid, should've been terrified of every aspect of Lars. And
I had been at first. I didn’t know what had changed, but I felt… different.
I should’ve fought harder, but here I was, lying in his bed, and all I
could feel was a confusing mix of emotions that all revolved around
wanting more of what Lars could give me. A look beside me showed he was
asleep, his breathing even.
I sat up and glanced around the room. His bedroom was as I imagined it
would be—dark and sparse, rugged yet organized, as if he had to have
everything in its rightful place.
There was a large wardrobe in the corner, similar to the one that was in
my room. There was a rickety-looking chair pulled up beside the bed, a
small bedside table, and two books sitting atop it.
The scent of him clung to everything, and I felt my heart beat faster
because it made me feel… safe.
Oh God. I’m insane.
As I took it all in, my eyes landed on the bedside table again, and my
breath caught. Those were my things.
I was naked, so I pulled the blanket lying across the end of the mattress
around me and quietly slid out of bed, walking silently over to the table
with slow steps. He’d taken pieces of my life. I picked up a hair tie I’d lost
weeks ago. I gasped when I picked up the small bottle of my favorite
perfume, the one that I thought I’d lost in my travels.
My throat tightened as I realized he’d taken them—kept them like
trophies.
I played with the hair tie, feeling its familiar texture between my
fingers. It was just a cheap thing I’d bought before I left for my trip. It was
so insignificant, but I wondered how many times Lars had picked it up and
ran the elastic between his own fingers.
These items were unimportant, but seeing them here made me feel like
he’d needed pieces of me close to him. And at the same time, these items
now seemed like a part of a life I left a long time ago.
 I realized the other stuff on the table were things I’d picked up along my
journey. God… he’d been following me for so long, through all those
different countries, and hiding in the shadows. Each item was a reminder of
how closely he’d been watching me.
I should have felt violated and angry, but instead, a strange sense of
calm washed over me.
How twisted was I that I liked the fact that he’d kept these things?
That he’d literally stalked me?
I crept closer to the door, and my heart was pounding in my chest. I
couldn’t shake it off that being with Lars—in this dark and twisted way—
made me feel more wanted than I ever had in my entire life. But as my hand
wrapped around the doorknob, the thought of escaping playing through my
mind, I looked back at Lars once again.
He still slept soundly, his chest rising and falling. I stood there for a
moment and just took in his bare chest. The sheet was pooled at his waist,
so his broad shoulders and defined chest covered in dark but trimmed hair
were on display. His waist was tapered, and that V of muscle was visible
until it disappeared beneath the sheet.
I should run. I should leave.
Instead, I lay down beside him again, his warmth drawing me in like a
magnet. He stirred slightly, and I knew he was waking when he slipped his
arm around my waist and pulled me closer. His body was solid and warm,
and the now-familiar scent of him surrounded me like a cocoon.
Deep down, I knew why I didn’t run. I’d never belonged anywhere. But
I belonged here. With Lars. My past had been filled with people who were
abusive and indifferent at best, cruel at worst. I’d just been drifting through
this world, wanting to escape. And I had. I’d gone farther than I ever
thought possible.
Yes, Lars had taken me, but in doing so, he’d made it clear that he not
only wanted me but that he needed me. He kept pieces of me—stolen bits of
my life—but he cared about me above all else, even if it was in a twisted
way.
I lay there, my body tucked against his, and let myself feel it—the
forbidden comfort of being wanted, even if it was by a man who kidnapped
me and kept me as his captive. His fingers moved lightly up and down my
spine. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged somewhere,
and that place was with him.
 I was anchored here, with him, in this dark place where the line between
love and obsession blurred, because they were one and the same. It was
dangerous, yet here I was… accepting this.

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 21

LARS

S
omething had changed with Dolly since last night. I’d seen it in the
way she looked at me as she rode my cock.
I felt it in the way she allowed me to hold her this morning, after
she’d turned from the door and crawled back into bed with me.
We’d just finished dinner—stew that we cooked together. Hell, I’d
gotten hard watching her cut the potatoes and carrots for the pot, seeing her
hold that knife, knowing it had been the same one I held to her throat after I
chased her down and then fucked her.
Dolly was now bathing while I cleaned up our dishes. The soft amber
light of dusk slipped through the small living room window. The sound of
water gently lapping in the tub as she cleaned herself reached my ears. It
was like a magnetic pull, moving me closer to the bathroom without
conscious thought to do so.
I was in front of the open bathroom door seconds later, and there she
was, submerged in the bath, the steam rising from all around her, and a few
tendrils of her strawberry blonde locks sticking to her nape and back.
For long seconds, I just stared at her, at her delicate shoulders with the
droplets of water cascading down them after she dragged the washcloth
over her pinkened flesh. She hadn’t noticed me yet—lost in the moment's
quiet—and so I took all the time I could, just watching her silently.
But it was when she slowly turned her head and looked at me that I
realized my girl had known I was there the whole time, watching her, and
she didn’t care. She just let me have it. Just let me look my fill. Hell, the
way our eyes locked and she twisted in the tub, letting me see her pert,
beautiful breasts in all their glory, I knew I was wrong and that she did care.
Because she liked it. It was obvious now she was putting on a show for me.
The air was thick with feral need, but it wasn’t just coming from me this
time. She stared at me like she was just as hungry as I was. The memory of
her running from me, of catching her, claimed my thoughts, and I reached
down and grabbed my cock through my jeans. I’d been hard since we
prepped dinner, and I needed to ease the ache now.
She was mine, and there was no longer a reason for her to deny the
dangerous game we were both engaged in.
I stepped into the bathroom, the old floor creaking beneath my weight.
She seemed so calm and relaxed, so ready for what we were about to do.
There was no words. Not now.
I slipped off my shirt, then the rest of my clothes, before stepping into
the tub behind her. The water shifted as I settled down, my legs stretching
out on either side of hers, and I pulled her back against my chest.
She relaxed instantly against me, her breathing even, the water rising
with both of us in the tub now, but her breasts were still visible. Her nipples
were hard from the chilled air, and I reached around and tweaked the tips.
Her breath caught, a soft moan leaving her parted lips.
I caressed her tits, and although my touch was gentle, my darkness
always simmered beneath the surface.
My hand slid over her breasts, massaging them, toying with her nipples,
and then moved down her belly and cupped her pussy. I knew she was sore,
so I stroked her, making sure that I didn’t add too much pressure that would
cause her discomfort.
With my other hand, I trailed my fingers over the minor cuts and
abrasions on her arms that she’d gotten when she ran from me. I’d been
tending to them nightly, adding cream and watching to make sure they
didn’t get infected.
A pang of something I’d never felt before filled me. It was a twisted
form of… guilt? Was this what “normal” people felt? It was a sensation that
squeezed at my chest as I noticed every one of her abrasions. The cuts were
small, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but to me, as I stared at
them, they were brands on her skin that pissed me off.
 The only marks I wanted her to wear were the ones I gave her while I
was buried deep inside her pussy.
I traced one cut on her forearm with my thumb, and although she was
still relaxed, her focus was on where I touched her.
My fingers lingered for a moment before I moved them up to her breast
and cupped a perfect mound. I kept moving up to her shoulder, then curled
my hand around her throat. The water rippled softly around us as I added a
little more pressure to her pussy, which I still cupped possessively.
“Wash me, Lars,” she whispered, and my body felt like a jolt of
electricity slammed into it by her small request followed by my name
leaving her lips.
I reached for the bar of soap, lathering both my hands before sliding
them over her skin. Every touch was slow, every caress of my fingers
deliberate. And the entire time, I was focused on her entirely. I washed her
arms, her thighs, her belly, and ended with her breasts.
Dolly simply let me do everything.
Her body softened even more as the seconds passed. I knew she felt my
hard cock digging into her lower back, and I was so fucking horny. I wanted
nothing more than to lift her and place her on my lap so I could slide into
her pretty cunt.
“Wash my hair.” Her words were a whisper again, but there was more of
a demand in her tone, and I felt my lips twist. I reached for the small pitcher
that sat on the floor by the tub and dipped it into the water. I carefully
poured the warm liquid over her head, wetting her hair. She let out a
contented sigh and allowed her head to hang back.
Once her hair was saturated, I poured some of her shampoo on her
crown and ran my fingers through the strands, massaging her scalp until a
lather formed. I rinsed her locks, and when I was done, Dolly leaned back
against me, her head resting against my chest. I could feel the steadiness of
her breathing, the way her body molded itself to mine.
And for the first time, I wasn’t thinking about control or power, about
trying to make her see she belonged with me. I was just enjoying the
moment, and it seemed that so was she.
I lifted her arm, my gaze catching on my name tattooed on her inner
wrist. My fingers traced the edge of the still-healing ink.
“Take me to bed.”
 I closed my eyes for a second before reaching for a towel. I was up and
out of the tub and helped Dolly out, wrapping the terry cloth around her
body and pulling her in close. With a kiss to her crown, I gently rubbed her
down, then did the same to her hair until the strands were only damp and
curled around her shoulders.
Without a word, I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, my hands
lingering on her shoulders for just a moment longer. She was so soft and
warm and… mine.
I didn’t say what I was feeling—how everything inside me was tied to
her now and how Dolly wasn’t my possession, even if it seemed that way.
What I felt was deep and unyielding.
No words were exchanged as I led her from the bathroom and into my
—our—room, because she wouldn’t be anywhere else now.
I helped her into bed, both of us nude, and pulled her in close. And
when I parted her thighs and slid into her, she didn't fight me. It was soft
and sweet, and in between me sucking and biting at her shoulders and neck
and leaving red and purple marks, I made love to Dolly.

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 22

DOLLY
WEEKS LATER

I
t was full-blown fall in Romania, and the chill in the air was undeniable
and uncomfortable.
The soft rustle of the leaves falling from the branches and onto the
forest floor could be heard now and then, and the colors that once were
vibrant greens were now muted oranges and shades of brown.
I pulled my jacket tighter around me, the new one I’d gotten in town
with Lars just last week. I walked along the edge of the woods. The ground
beneath my slow steps was damp from a recent rain, but I wore waterproof
boots that kept my feet dry and warm. Another new purchase with Lars.
The earth gave slightly with each step I took.
The wind blew through the leaves, whispering as the scent of pine
drenched everything the forest housed. Although I walked alone, I knew
Lars was somewhere behind me, close enough that I could still feel his
presence.
He was always near, but I no longer felt like it was an oppressive aura.
Now, it was a comforting one because I knew he’d never let anything
happen to me.
I wasn’t “allowed” outside, not in the sense I had to ask permission. I
had free rein to do what I wanted. I supposed he trusted me and knew I
wouldn’t run.
Why would I? I’d never felt more at home than when I was with him. It
may have taken a fucked-up situation to bring us together, but I accepted
this was my life, and truthfully, I’d never been happier.
And although I was no longer his captive, I also knew I wasn’t truly
free. He never let me out of his sight and always kept careful, quiet watch
over me. But his presence was soothing now. The way his shadow seemed
to fall over everything was a constant reminder I had my protector close by.
I made my way to a small clearing near the creek and sat down on a
large boulder. The air was fresh and cool, almost painful when I inhaled.
The sound of the bubbling water bouncing over the bigger rocks and small
pebbles calmed me further as I stared at the stream.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the calmness of the moment
wash over me. But even in this peaceful silence, the questions I’d been
pushing down for weeks resurfaced.
How long were we going to stay here? I wasn’t going to leave Lars—or
try to—so wherever he went, so did I.
How long was I going to be a part of this strange, twisted existence with
my captor? Would he grow tired of me? My heart raced at that thought,
discomfort filling me.
And like he could read my thoughts and felt my disheartened emotion, I
heard the rustling of his steps behind me as he came closer than he’d been
the past mile of strolling.
Before I could stop myself, I asked, “How long are we going to stay
here?” My voice was quiet but clear, and I knew he heard me, even though
he didn’t respond right away.
I could feel his eyes on me, a heavy presence that was suddenly like a
weight on my shoulders. I glanced over at him then and examined his
expression. It was clear his mind was turning my question over. I noticed he
did this often—staying silent before speaking, as if weighing every word
before letting it escape.
“Do you want to leave?” he asked, and I knew it wasn’t in the sense of
leaving him.
I let the question hang in the air for a moment, staring down at the
water. The memory of my life before Lars filled my mind. I hated it. I didn’t
want to let it consume me.
I am happy now.
I thought about my parents—the way they’d treated me like I was
something broken and unworthy of any kind of love. I could still hear their
harsh words echoing in my subconscious. Their cruel indifference had been
a coat I wore for so long.
No matter what I did or how hard I worked, it was never enough for
them. I spent so long trying to understand what was so wrong with me that
they couldn’t love the person I was, that they couldn’t accept me for… me.
And then there was my one romantic relationship—the one that had
mirrored everything wrong about my childhood and with my parents.
God, he’d been so cruel, too. Mentally and physically beaten down until
all I saw in the mirror was a shell of a human being.
I’d spent my entire life just… surviving, and I’d done that just barely.
And then I’d finally broken free. I left. I traveled. And I loved every minute
of it.
But I knew the pain of my past would always remain. You could never
truly heal from abuse. You just learned to live with the scars.
I had never found a place where I felt like I belonged.
Until now. With Lars.
As twisted and dark as it was, he was the only person who’d ever made
me feel whole and seen. And I was not fucking losing that.
Even though I knew how dangerous he was, how toxic it all started, and
that this wasn’t conventional in any sense, I couldn’t deny I’d never felt
more at peace than I did here with him.
“I don’t want to leave,” I finally answered, still staring at the creek.
“Not this cabin. Not Romania. And not you.” The wind chose that moment
to rustle through the trees again, and for a moment, I simply sat there,
listening to the forest and feeling Lars next to me.
The world outside of these woods and our cabin—away from the life I
now lived with Lars—felt so distant now. It all felt like a dream.
Lars moved closer behind me, and I basked in the warmth of his
presence there before he placed his big hands on my shoulders and gave
them a reassuring squeeze.
After a moment, he sat down on the boulder beside me. I glanced at him
to see how intently his dark gaze was focused on me. There was something
raw in his eyes, something that made my heart ache.
“That’s the right answer,” he finally spoke and pulled me so that I was
now sitting on his lap with his arms tightly bound around me.
And then there was nothing but the steady beat of my heart as I thought
about what it meant when the captive fell in love with her captor.
OceanofPDF.com
 EPILOGUE
LARS

A couple of months later

S
now blanketed the forest floor, wintertime a heavy cloak covering
everything. It was cold as fuck with frost covering the windows, and
the wind-chill was frigid enough to freeze any exposed skin.
The cabin was old as hell, and the icy air seeped into every corner of the
structure. I kept the hearth stocked with wood, and a constant fire burned,
heating the small interior.
I stood by the window and stared out into the quiet stillness of winter,
watching the sky change into oranges and pinks as night descended. Snow
fell heavily, adding even more inches to everything.
The Romanian woods had become our sanctuary, our private haven that
kept us away from not only the chaos of the world but civilization.
Behind me, Dolly hummed softly to herself, and I smiled at how
beautiful it sounded. I looked over my shoulder to see her decorating the
small tree I’d cut down for us. We’d gotten ornaments and decorations in
the city center days before, as well as stocked up on more supplies.
As it was, we didn’t seem to have any plans to leave this cabin. It was a
good thing I had a long-term rental agreement for it and was in the process
of buying it and the land surrounding it.
She’d had free rein when we went shopping and had found a few simple
things to mark the holidays, such as red candles and glittery ornaments. It
was strange finding actual pleasure in the way she decorated, adding little
touches of festivity that brought a lightness to the cabin.
I’m in so deep.
God, she was graceful, and I was transfixed and mesmerized as I
watched her fingers trail over the decorations. But her expression showed
she was lost in thought.
“What are you thinking about, little darling?” I turned and leaned
against the wall, watching her obsessively, giving her as much time as she
needed to answer.
“Just thinking about all the things I didn't do when I was a child and
how now I want to experience everything.”
I pushed away from the wall and went up to her, pushing her hair from
her shoulder and kissing her nape. “You can do and have anything you want
now.” I could see the slight upward tilt of her lips.
“Growing up, I never did these things.” She started putting tinsel on the
tree, and I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her back against my
chest.
“A holiday was just another day. Nothing special,” she whispered, as if
she were speaking more to herself than to me.
I reached over her shoulder and took some tinsel, adding it to a higher
branch. And after we decorated the tree, I pulled her to the couch we now
had in front of the fire and tugged her onto my lap, just holding her as we
stared at the twinkling lights and the star at the top of the tree.
Over the months we’d spent here, Dolly had opened up more, like a
flower finally finding the sunlight and flourishing. She kept revealing
pieces of herself to me, and I was thankful to see who Dolly truly was with
each passing day.
I slid my hand over her thighs, massaging gently, sliding slowly up and
working my fingers down the elastic of her sweats until I was cupping her
pussy. She tensed… but then relaxed and shifted slightly so her legs were
spread more.
“I’ve never been happier,” she whispered, and I slid my fingers beneath
her panties and touched her pussy lips. She was warm and soft and already
getting wet.
“Me neither, sweetheart.” I didn't admit that I’d never felt anything with
anyone before. I didn’t tell her she was the only one who gave me the
genuine sense of feeling and like this was where I belonged. She was who I
was meant to be with.
Each fragment of herself she gave me brought us closer in a way I never
thought possible o,r at the very least, experience it anytime soon.
I teased her pussy hole, then slipped inside, finger-fucking her until she
panted and ground herself against my hand.
“We’ll make new memories,” I said, my voice low. “Better ones.”
She moaned, and I felt her juices coating my hand. I pulled my finger
out of her and pinched her clit hard enough I knew it hurt. But she turned
her head and started kissing me hard enough it brought pain. Fuck, that was
good.
I tried to be as open about myself as she had been, but there were some
parts that had to stay in the deepest, darkest recess of my soul. Maybe one
day I’d tell her about the things I’d done, the people I’d hurt, and how she
was now tethered to a psychopath who loved her in the only way an insane
motherfucker like me could.
Obsessively.
But what I did share with her, what she saw—Dolly embraced it, just as
I embraced the pieces she deemed broken within herself.
Over the past few months, we had settled into this life together. We went
into town weekly, mainly to get Dolly out of the cabin and to socialize. She
was learning Romanian, and I loved watching her practice nightly.
We wandered the narrow cobblestone streets, and although I let her take
the lead, I was always close by, always watching and protecting her. We
explored the forest—or more so my little darling did. I loved watching the
wonder filter through her eyes as she took in every little detail of her
surroundings.
I knew I'd be leaving my life behind when I committed to taking her.
But my life—my profession—was one that would have me disappearing
with the snap of a finger.
Being a contract killer, a paid for hire murderer for a living made it easy
to just…disappear.
It was also a profession that helped the twisted hunger my inner
darkness craved.
When I knew Dolly was as deep into me as I was with her, I’d given her
the choice—the choice to go anywhere as long as I was right there beside
her. She could have her freedom but only with me by her side.
 But for now, this cabin in the Romanian woods was where she wanted
to stay.
I was brought back to the present when I felt her sharp nails scoring my
forearm as I pumped one, then two fingers into her tight little cunt. She was
drenched, the sound making that apparent as my digits pumped in and out
of her, her juices drenching my hand and her inner thighs.
I was hard as fucking steel, my cock throbbing, and my balls were full
with the need to fill her up. I pumped into her three more times before
removing my hand from her pants and bringing those fingers to my mouth
to suck them clean.
“Mmm, so fucking good.” But it was the sight of her hand resting on
her belly that had my chest tightening. She was just beginning to show now.
Her stomach was ever-so-slightly rounded beneath the soft fabric of her
over-sized sweater.
“I love seeing your belly growing because of me.” The knowledge that
my baby was there, safe inside of her, sent a surge of possessiveness
through me. It was with an intensity that heightened my desire to keep her
safe because now I had not only her to watch over but our child as well.
I placed my hand over hers, and Dolly smiled up at me, her eyes
softening as we said nothing while we just rested our palms over her bump.
Having a life with someone—sharing any part of myself—wasn’t
something I ever thought I’d experience. But a baby? I had never imagined
that for myself in any thought I’d had about where I saw myself going.
And yet, here we were. She was mine. And this baby was mine.
Completely and irrevocably. With me and Dolly, there was no line between
love, possession, and the lengths I'd go to keep this life.
Our baby may be born into this life we’d built together through so much
darkness, but this was our perfect, twisted life. The world outside and what
society would think about where it concerned us no longer mattered.
It was nothing but background noise.
And my Dolly anchored me in ways that no one ever had, and no one
else ever would. I consumed her the way she did me. We were a part of
each other now and forever.
I leaned in, pressing my lips to her temple and breathing her in. “Are
you still happy here? With me?” I asked her quietly, the same question I
asked her regularly.
Though, I already knew the answer.
 She looked up at me. Her gaze searched mine, and then she nodded
gently. “I’ve never been happier. And every time you ask me, Lars, that
feeling only grows.”
I smiled, a dark, satisfied feeling settling in my chest. “Good,
sweetheart,” I murmured, my hand curling ever so slightly on her belly. “No
going back.”
“Never,” she said, her perfect lips lifting with a dark smile of her own.

The End.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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https://dl.bookfunnel.com/70kysmttbw

Find Jenika at:

www.JenikaSnow.com
[email protected]

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