Page 92 of The Toy Collector

He slams into me one last time and comes with a growl that sounds more like possession than pleasure. The primal sound, paired with the way his length swells inside me, is enough to send me crashing over the edge again.

His body collapses over mine, chest heaving, mouth pressed to my shoulder. And then—just like that—the violence fades from him as he kisses the back of my neck, soft and unhurried.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs.

I brace myself against the counter as he crouches behind me, and then I feel it—warm, damp cloth against my swollen, oversensitive pussy. He wipes away his cum slowly, thoroughly, like he’s cleaning up something precious.

He presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh, then another just above my ass. Worshiping the body he just used like a weapon.

“You did so well for me,” he says softly, reverently. “So fucking perfect.”

I want to argue. I want to snarl at him, maybe scream. “You should leave,” I finally say, barely recognizing my voice.

“And why’s that?” he asks, amused.

“Because I think I hate you right now.” With those words, I turn on my heel and make my way into the bedroom, ready to let the bed swallow me.

Of course, Enzo doesn’t make it easy. He follows me into the bedroom, not bothering to get dressed before sliding in beside me on the huge bed.

“You think hate scares me?” he asks in a low and amused tone. “Hate’s just love wearing its fangs. You can gnash at me all you want, Toy. I’ll still be the one you bite down on.”

I pull the sheet up to my chest, wishing it were armor, but all it does is trap me beside the man who just ruined me—and now wants to cuddle like he didn’t. He doesn’t touch me; just lies there, breathing quietly and steady, like he’s waiting.

“Stop acting like this is normal,” I whisper.

“What’s normal, Piper?” he replies, calm as ever. “People lie to each other. Hurt each other. Leave. But you and me? We fit. And whether you admit it now or later, you’ll never belong to anyone else.”

I turn my back to him, but it’s useless. I still feel him. His warmth. His words. His fucking presence curling around me like smoke.

Chapter 33

Lorenzo

It doesn’t take long until my toy’s fast asleep again.Still at her back, I listen to the way her breath catches, then releases. I count the seconds between one, two, three. I brush my thumb across the blue vein mapping her wrist, timing her pulse against my own.

Even though I feel her skin against mine, I still have to remind myself that she’s safe now. The relief I feel is unfamiliar, almost caustic in its intensity. I don’t name it. Names have power, and I already know what this is.

I trace the edge of the bruise blooming on her arm where the IV punctured her skin. But as soon as I touch it, Piper’s face scrunches up, and she whimpers in her sleep and presses her body harder against mine.

“You’re safe, Toy,” I murmur, stroking her everywhere I can reach.

At my words, she relaxes again. Her face is slack in sleep, defenseless. The sight of it strikes something primal in me. Then, the corner of her mouth twitches, and I hope she’s dreaming about me.

I lie with her until I become too restless to remain still. As I get out of bed, I’m careful not to disturb her. Cold air hits my bare skin as I move to the bathroom where my clothes lie scattered across the tile.

When I dress, I do it slowly. Button by button. Cuff by cuff. The ritual of reclaiming control when everything around me threatened to unravel hours before. My reflection in her mirror is composed, but my eyes tell a different story. They’re black with purpose.

Before I leave the bathroom, I touch the sink. I can still feel her cunt squeeze me as I fucked her right here. Fuck, maybe I should dismantle the sink and keep each tile as a momento of our first time together.

Smirking, I leave the bathroom and retrieve the bag with everything my toy had on her when I found her at Static. Even though she looked sexy as sin, I refuse to let her keep the clothes Ben touched.

My jaw locks so suddenly my molars ache, and in five furious steps, I’m at her kitchen trash, dumping every item of clothing without ceremony. They’ll never touch her skin again.

It’s far from the first time I’m in my toy’s home, but it feels like I’m seeing it with fresh eyes as I look around. Everything here screams her, and I take my time drinking it all in. This is her home, a place she loves.

In the past, I’ve heard people say that home is where your heart is. It never made sense to me until now. I thought my luxury apartment filled with items I don’t care about was home. But it’s not—this is.

Seeing my toy swaying at that club, eyes unfocused, and with Ben’s fucking hands on her, changed everything. I’m never leaving her alone again. That leaves two options; either she moves into my penthouse, or I move in here. I’m choosing the latter for us.

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