Joining in more than just the physical. In every way.
My legs hit the bed at the vision and I slammed my hand over my cock. My eyes rolled back as my head hit the pillow.
“Rabbit,” she called. I heard the desperation in her voice. I heard the hitch of her breath. When my eyes opened, I saw her opposite me, at the bottom of the bed. Her back rested against the railing at the foot of the bed. Her legs were open, and her hand was underneath her dress.
“Dolly.” I stroked along the length of my dick over my pants.
“I want to touch you, Rabbit,” she said as the heel of her boot scraped at the comforter. “I want to feel your hand do this to me. I want you to make me feel the shivers that break out inside of me when I simply think of your face. I want to feel you above me.” A whimper fell from her lips. “Little Dolly wants her Rabbit.”
“Dolly darlin’,” I growled as I shifted my back against the headrest. We were face to face, just a few feet between us. And then her hand came to the top of her dress. Never taking her eyes from mine, she began unthreading the lace that kept the bodice of her dress together, exposing her white skin inch by inch . . .
Until the material parted at her waist and the two sides opened, baring her breasts. White breasts that would fit neatly into the palms of my hands. Hard pink nipples, almost as pink as the lipstick that graced her lips, begging for my mouth.
“There’s nothing like it, Dapper Dan,” Chapel had told me one night when I had asked him about women. “Their taste, their feel, their breasts in your palms . . .” He’d nodded. “You’ll get this with your little dolly darlin’. One day, when the dam that keeps your abusers’ touch living within you breaks, you’ll both get it from the other . . . and there’ll be nothing quite like it ever again. Synergy, Dapper Dan. Complete synergy.”
But that dam had not broken . . . yet.
So I watched from a distance. I watched as Dolly closed her legs and pulled down her panties. The frilly white panties I had bought her came sliding down her legs. I snarled as her slim, pale legs parted again, wide and bent at the knee, heels digging into the white comforter beneath us. Then her fingers were moving to the hem of her dress. My gaze flitted between the blue satin that was now shifting up her thighs and her eyes as they remained locked on me. Her lips were pursed and her pupils were blown.
“Rabbit,” she whispered as she lifted her dress to her waist. I swallowed, still looking at her face, until I had no other choice but to look down. A groan clawed from my chest at the sight of her exposed pussy, the blond hair enticing me in.
“Dolly,” I growled. She lowered her hand and ran her fingertips over herself. Her eyes rolled back as she moved her fingers back and forth. Slowly. Painfully fucking slowly.
I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take any more, couldn’t take my cock being trapped behind my pants. Ripping open the button, then the zipper, I reached inside my pants and pulled out my dick. My hand wrapped around its thick length and I jerked it back and forth. I hissed as I saw Dolly’s hand freeze. She watched me. She never took her eyes off me as I kneeled up on the bed. I let go of my cock just long enough to pull off my shirt and vest. Bare-chested, pants wide open, I inched closer to where she lay. I stopped only a foot from her. Stopped close enough to watch her eyes glaze over as her fingers entered her hole, and to hear her cry softly and whisper, “Wider, bitch.”
Every fucking part of me turned to solid granite as I heard the cry, the echo of Ellis’s past pouring from her lips. “You’re so fucking tight, tiny bitch.” She was being pulled back from our Wonderland into the Earnshaw estate. Into the years void of me. Void of my protection.
A surge of fury swept through me watching my Dolly come apart, so broken from what those cunts had done. What they’d done when I had been locked in their prison. Her lips trembled as her eyes filled with tears. “You like that, don’t you, baby whore? You like me filling you? You fucking love it.”
I threw my head back and screamed as a tear fell down her newly made-up cheek. When I lowered my head to face her, her big blue eyes were lost . . . alone. She was lonely. Lost in the hopeless isolation of her past.