Page 100 of The Toy Collector

Piper moans with satisfaction as she bends forward, the angle shifting, taking me deeper. Her mouth finds mine, not asking but demanding, her tongue stroking against mine in a mimicry of what our bodiesare doing below.

Her teeth graze my bottom lip just before she bites down, hard enough that I feel the skin split, copper blooming on my tongue. I growl at the unexpected pain, and my cock pulses inside her in response.

She pulls back just enough to watch my reaction, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous and new. My blood stains her mouth like war paint, and something primal claws free inside me, wild and worshipful.

“Are you branding me, Toy?”

The smile she gives me is nothing short of wicked, a queen accepting tribute. She licks the blood from her lip, never breaking eye contact. “Maybe,” she hums, hips grinding down, locking me inside her like a death grip. “Is that a problem?”

I could flip her now, remind her who she belongs to. But her confidence, her audacity—it’s intoxicating. Instead, I reach up, finally touching her, thumbs brushing over her nipples, feeling the shiver that runs through her entire body.

“No,” I reply simply. “You were made for me, baby, and it’s about time you take what’s yours.” I pinch one peak between my fingers, rolling it until she gasps and arches into me.

She moves faster, taking me deeper, her body demanding everything I have to give. And I give it to her—my stillness, my patience, my savage appreciation of every undulation of her hips, every moan that falls from those bloodstained lips.

Fuck, I love the way she’s using me. She’s becoming more mine with every bounce on my cock. Then she slams down hard, her eyes blazing, her breath hot against my mouth.

“I have questions,” Piper growls, grinding down until my vision goes white. “And if you want to come tonight, Enzo, you’ll answer every one of them. Honestly.”

If there was ever any doubt as to whether or not my perfect toy belongs to me, it’s gone. This proves that she’s my equal. My everything.

This has to be what love feels like, because I want nothing more than to fall to my knees for this woman.

“You can ask me anything,” I rasp.

Chapter 36

Lorenzo

She swirls her hips at an agonizingly slow pace, and judging by her wicked grin, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Something shifts in the air between us, a heaviness that has nothing to do with the press of our bodies.

Her voice cuts through the dark like a blade, low and demanding. “Would you really have killed Daniel just for touching me?”

The question doesn’t slow her hips. Doesn’t ease the strangling grip of her cunt around me. If anything, she tightens, watching me with eyes that demand truth even as they drink in pleasure.

I should probably be surprised she’s asking me about that fucker now, but I’m not. Somehow, it seems fitting to get everything out in the open while she’s staking her claim.

“Yes,” I answer, the single syllable hanging in the air between us. No hesitation, no remorse coloring the word. Just fact, delivered while buried inside her.

Her rhythm falters for just a heartbeat, the only indication that my answer affects her. Then she resumes, somehow more intent, more present in the movement of her body over mine. Her eyes never leave my face, searching for regret, for signs that I’m lying. She won’t find any.

“He touched you,” I elaborate, my hands finally moving to her thighs, feeling the flex of muscle as she rises and falls. “That’s more than enough reason.”

She doesn’t recoil or pull away. If anything, she sinks down harder, taking me deeper as if my confession deserves reward rather than revulsion.

“Not really,” she disagrees, licking her lips as she pushes herself back up. “He didn’t touch me in any way that matters. Definitely not in a way that made him deserve to be killed.”

“He. Touched. You,” I grind out through clenched teeth. “That’s enough.”

As she shakes her head, her hair spills around her face like a curtain. “No,” she hisses. She moves her hands back to my chest, digging her nails in harder this time. “If I’m yours, I get a fucking say, Enzo.”

“Is that so?” I challenge on a grunt.

“Yes, it’s so.” When she adds more pressure with her nails, I feel at least two breaking through my skin.

“Fuck,” I growl, hips jerking up into her before I force myself still.

“You can’t just go around and kill people who randomly touch me. I mean, what if I help someone who’s about to fall, will you murder them?” she huffs with irritation, no longer moving.

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