I dream of having Lilac chained to me. I dream of having her all to myself, locked in a mansion together, no one else to bother us. I know it’s a sick fantasy, but I don’t care. All I want is her. She’s mine and always will be mine. No one will love her the way I do. No one will consume her the way I do.
She sits up on her knees, bends over with her ass in the air, wraps her mouth around my dick, sucks hard as she strokes me. I place my hands in her hair as she tries to take all of me in, but she gags and chokes. I come in her mouth. She swallows, then lies on my chest. I picture chasing her, catching her, fucking her.
My dick hardens again just from the thought of what I want to do to her.
“Get on top. Now.”
She doesn’t hesitate. She sinks down on my dick slowly, squirming, trying not to slide all the way down my shaft.
“Irvin, you’re so big.”
I slowly push her down until she takes all of me.
“You have no choice but to take it, my princess.”
“I see.”
She rides me slowly, staring into my eyes.
I picture her stomach round with my child. I picture us locked away here—no escape. No one will ever have what I have with her. My obsession with her is love, not control, and I want her to understand that. I don’t want to cage her. I just want her to see she belongs to me. Years from now, she’ll thank me. She’ll be happy with me controlling her. She’ll understand it.
I grip her hips, hold her down as I come inside her again. I should swap her birth control right now—give her a baby so she won’t go anywhere—but she has to complete her dreams first.
She lies on my chest, my softening dick inside her. She studies my face, tracing her fingers over the tattoos.
“Your lilac tattoo on your face represents your obsession with me,” she says.
I play with the ends of her hair. She smells like shea butter mixed with lilac.
“Yes. It does.”
It also means she owns me, too. That I’m fully hers.
“Why do you have the wordsadon your face?”
“It represents the burden of being part of the American Billionaire Club. The lifestyle. The sadness of being part of the elite. I’ll always be a sad little puppet to the board members,” I answer honestly.
She sits up, kisses the tattoos all over my face.
“I love your tattoos, Irvin. I want to get a tattoo, but I don’t know of what.”
“We can figure it out together. I’ll take you to my tattoo artist.”
It hits me—she can’t leave me. No matter what she does. No matter what we go through. I need to make sure she understands where we stand so there won’t be any confusion. I run my fingers along her delicate shoulder.
“You have no choice but to be with me. You can’t ever leave me, princess.”
She sits up, rolls her eyes. “You don’t do divorces in the American Billionaire Club.”
I stroke my finger along her bottom lip. “Princess, you know what I mean.”
She snatches her hair tie from the nightstand and gathers her large, kinky curls into a pineapple ponytail. “I can’t promise you something like that. Life happens.”
My chest tightens. My gut twists. I sit up, my head resting against the headboard.
“I don’t think you understand. Don’t ever bring up leaving me. Do you understand now?”
She gets off the bed, strides to the bathroom door, and slips on a silk robe. “Why do you have to be in control of everything, Irvin?”
