Page 48 of Little Puppet
Do psychopaths like stuffed animals?
The thought has my mind going in different directions as Cain clears his throat and sits back in his chair, quickly dropping his hand onto my thigh.
“Today, little puppet, we’re going to burn what’s left of your old life.”
I swallow. “What?”
There’s a fucked up, dark part of me that had come to terms with the fact I was going to end up with the rest of the women in that room of his. Another puppet in his collection.
Once he uses me up, he’ll kill me and move on. Going back to his life as if nothing ever happened. It seems he has other plans, however. It makes me very unsettled.
I shift on the table as he sits forward, running a finger down my cheek.
“I love it when you blush. Makes you look so… alive,” he finishes.
I swallow.
“Is that new to you? Liking to see your victims with blood running beneath their skin?”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a smart ass. I’m not in the mood for it today. Not after all the shit you pulled yesterday.”
“How am I to burn my old life, Cain?” I ask, sighing. “It’s not as if I can become something new.”
He beams, and my chest stings.
“But you can. I have a connection that is getting you all new papers. You’re going to become a brand new girl, puppet. New name, new home‚—with me, of course.”
I swallow.With him?
“You’re going to keep me? Alive?”
It’s not the worst possible outcome.
So much is rushing through my head that I can’t riddle it all out right now. Not when his hand is rubbing up and down my exposed thigh.
He let me off all but three strings on my back and allowed me to dress in one of his shirts, which swallowed me whole.
“I am. I can’t get rid of you, Grace. Not when you’re perfect for me.”
“Well, I’m not going to live with a killer. You can’t change the past, but you’re not going to keep killing girls,” I tell him.
“And who’s going to stop me, Grace? You?”
I scoff, slipping off the table and stepping away from him. “You want me to be your little fuck doll while you fuck and kill other women?”
His face twists with anger as he stands, looming over me. “I’d never touch another soul sexually, Grace. I’m yours. Haven’t you realized that? The day I didn’t slit your fucking throat, I became yours. You blatantly disregarded it, however, and ran.”
Despite logic, my stomach curls with guilt. “I?—”
He shushes me with a finger over my lips. “Ah, ah, don’t worry yourself, puppet. I’ve forgiven you. After all, you were such a good girl for me this morning. I bet my cum is still seeping out of you even now, isn’t it?”
Blood paints my cheeks again, and when I try to look away from him, he captures my face in his hand, cinching my cheeks hard as he snarls. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
I fucking hate that my pussy throbs the meaner and the more wicked he treats me. I press my thighs together.
“Sorry, master,” I say softly.
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t bait me.”