Page 61 of Feed Your Fiends

I look at the plus and minus symbols on the bottle as he cracks it open and holds it to my lips.

“You even thought about my electrolytes?” The doctor recommended them for a few days since the medications made me so nauseous I was hardly eating.

“When it comes to you, Elle, I’ve thought of everything. There’s no detail I haven’t considered.”

My intestines clench.Everything?It makes me wonder just how much he knows.

I look into his eyes and can find no answers, just those endless pits.

“Sip it, baby.”

He tugs my hair, tips my head back and presses the bottle to my lips, his thumb on my chin.

I swallow hard and accidentally follow his orders.

How is he always one step ahead?For now.

Maybe I did need Rin more than I thought.

“I want you to be comfortable here with me. Take what you want, whatever you need. Don’t even wake me to ask.”

Wake him to ask?

I stare at his dick that’s already hard again and brushing my navel.

“Do your skincare, dove,” he says, glancing into his fancy mirror that never fogged. “I’m about to do mine.” He rubs his fingers, still sticky with our slick, across his lips like he’s applying his nightly lip balm.

The toothy grin as he does so sends my heart racing.

Gant

Peace.Now that my dove’s descended upon me, that’s all I feel because all is right with the world again.

Almost.

I ignore my phone buzzing on the vanity as Bart’s name rolls across the screen. Instead, I cradle my little doll against my chest and turn off the blow-dryer as the last lock of her hair falls to her shoulder, completely dry.

She moans at the warm touch, her head lulling against my arm.

“Are you sleepy, baby?” I ask.

She nods against me, her limbs growing heavier by the second.

Of course, she’s sleepy. I made sure of it with that drink. She’s here now, but there’s no way I’m taking a chance that she won’t be here tomorrow. I don’t just mean in the penthouse but in this realm.

Nightmarish images of my dove looking so lovingly at the IV line assault me as I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to our bed. I can’t stay awake forever, so if I sleep, my baby sleeps too, and I need to sleep desperately because I haven’t in days. Not since I lost her.

And I’ll never lose her again.

I catch a glimpse of us in the standing mirror and drink in the view of her crossed ankles, her knees hooked over my arm, her slit so fat and perfect, pressed between her thighs and still glistening.

I lay her softly on the bed and reach for her favourite lotion before squirting it over her, neck to ankles. The shimmery white reminds me of my artwork just a few moments before. She flinches at the cold, but a second later, I’m warming her, rubbing every centimetre of her skin as her eyelids droop. When I reach her feet, I hook them over my shoulder and take turns massaging them with the medicinal balm the doctor prescribed for pain and swelling.

She’s gazing at me so sweetly, her tits rising and falling with every slow breath, her pussy bald and spread, when I finally lower her legs she’s too weak to press together.

“A shirt?” she mumbles softly as I slide the blanket over my shoulders before descending upon her so that we’re flushed, her warm pussy French kissing the head of my cock. My bent knee keeps most of my weight off of her, and my right arm cradles her head so I can play with her strands until sleep takes me too.

“Skin-to-skin is the best form of healing,” I say, kissing her parted lips. “That’s how you healed so fast to run away from me.” I slide down to suck on her nipples until my eyes grow heavy as that perfect, rhythmic rise and fall of her breasts lure me into a blissful slumber.

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