“Octavia—” I start.
“You don’t get to diminish what I do and make it sound trivial,” she hisses, her eyes shimmering with emotion.
“Octavia—”
“Just because I don’t sit behind a desk or…save lives or…whatever, that doesn’t mean that my job doesn’t have value. I earn more in an hour than most people do in a day?—”
Lifting my hand, I cover her mouth, silencing her. “Octavia, I’m sorry.”
Blinking, her expression turns unsure, like I’ve surprised her.
“I don’t like sharing you, and at the studio, everyone wants a part of you. I spoke without thought because I’m possessive, and I want to hoard you to myself. If I could, I’d keep us both locked in our house forever, because I want all of your attention. You are a beautiful artist, and I enjoy watching you work, even if I hate that you touch anyone other than me.”
Lifting my hand from her mouth, I wait for her to speak. “I don’t…” she starts, then falls silent again.
“I don’t care how much money you make, but I am aware of how much you charge for your time, and I think the tattoos you create are worth every penny. I understand that your time is in demand, but I want all of you, and suggesting that you cancel your appointments and stay home today was simply because I crave all of you, not because I don’t see the value in your job. But I don’t like it when you are angry, and I don’t like it when you are sad, and this morning I’m the cause of that. I’m sorry, Doll.”
Silent tears slip from her eyes as she visibly swallows, staring at me like she isn’t sure what to make of what I just said.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her again, needing her to hear the truth in my words.
“I’m good at what I do,” she says, but I don’t know if she’s telling me or herself.
“You’re so good. Your art is beautiful.”
She nods, even as she cries.
“Let me help,” I say, wanting to comfort her, but unsure if that would make her feel better or worse.
Nodding, she tips forward into my chest, giving me both the space and permission to touch her. Since the day I brought her home, I’ve felt confident that I know what she needs. But the last fifteen minutes have left me as confused as I usually feel when confronted with everyone else’s emotions, except for my doll.
Gathering her into my arms, I lift her up and hold her tightly until she unfurls her arms and legs and clings to me. “I’m sorry,” I tell her again.
After a long moment, she pulls back and looks at me, her eyes red-rimmed and sad.
“Tell me how to make this better,” I ask, hating how peculiar this is making me feel, something I haven’t cared about since I was a child and my mom used to cry.
“I don’t know,” she says, her voice weak and sad.
“I don’t like that.”
“Me either,” she confesses.
My skin crawls with the need to fix whatever was broken between us this morning. When our lunch arrives, I insist that we eat it in the break room, but before I can give her a lunchtime orgasm, Sully storms into the room and throws himself down onto the couch and doesn’t leave before Octavia’s afternoon client arrives.
It’s nearly ten p.m. by the time we get home, and my blood feels like it’s made of acid, slowly melting my skin from the inside out.
“I’m so tired,” Doll exclaims as we pull into the garage, her eyes normal again, her body language exhausted but happy.
Killing the engine, I jump out, circle the car, and throw open her door. Unfastening her seat belt, I spin her so she’s sitting sideways with her legs hanging out of the car, then I drop to my knees, rip her panties off her, and bury my face in her cunt.
Her shocked gasp quickly morphs into a pained moan as I lick and nip and fuck her channel with my tongue.
I feel her fingers land on my head as I force myself closer. Pushing her thighs open wider with my hands, I slide two fingers into her pussy, curling them until her body is thrown into an orgasm.
Legs shaking, her entire body tenses, then releases, her muscles twitching as she screams out her orgasm, her arousal flooding my mouth and coating my lips in her flavor. Needing more, I keep moving, sucking her clit between my lips, still fucking her with my fingers until she comes again, then again, greedily swallowing down her arousal but still needing more.
Reaching down, I blindly unfasten my jeans, then grab her hips and flip her to her stomach. Parting her ass cheeks with my palms, I watch as my dick pushes into her body. When I’m buried deep inside of her, her fluttering cunt still twitching around me, I exhale and take the first full breath I’ve taken all day.
