My Coach, My Stalker

“You should be,” I growl, surging forward. Crushing her to my body and ramming my stiffness up between her thighs, absorbing her screams in my ear like priceless treasures, her feet dangling two feet from the floor. “You’re not going anywhere, ever again, fuck toy.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” she manages, her voice jumping every time I pump deep. “And I might be your toy sometimes, but I’m also your sweetheart. Look at me, Everett. Please stop being mad at me.” The imploring quality of my voice stops me dead, enraptured by the adoration on her face. For me? “I left because I love you so much. I was scared our relationship was temporary. A means to an end.” She squeezes me rhythmically with her snug, warm pussy and I shudder, grunt, stumble a little in my pleasure. Her voice has thoroughly hypnotized me. Suspended the function of my lungs. “I was wrong. And I’m sorry I scared you.” She blinks her eyes and a single tear rolls down her cheek, followed by a sniffle that rends my soul in two. “Can we kiss and make up, Daddy? Please?”

Her plea, the soft baby talk, cuts right through my anger.

I can see myself from the outside. A monster who has bound the greatest treasure of his life to fuck her. Possibly against her will. Abusing her young body. It’s unconscionable. She needs affection. She needs her man to nurture her.

With a tortured sound, I rip the panties securing her to the curtain rod and pull Margot into a tight embrace, walking her through the debris of my insanity to my bedroom. It’s no less terrifying in here with photos everywhere, more stab holes in the walls, not to mention the musky scent of my desperate jerk off sessions. It hangs in the air, but she doesn’t seem to notice it. No. Clinging to my neck, she almost seems to…like my unusual décor. A shrine that extends to every corner of my house in her honor. Is that too much to hope for?

With my cock still buried in her drenched cunt, I lie her down on the bed and come down on top of her, already thrusting, but slow and long this time. Gently burying myself to the hilt and grinding deep. Kissing the single tear path down her face. “I’m sorry I was rough,” I say, shuddering over the hot, recurring clenches of her pussy. “I’m sorry I was mean. But this isn’t going away. I’m a lunatic. I’m your lunatic. It’s only getting worse now that you’re mine.” I can’t resist a violent drive of my cock into her heat. “Mine.”

“All yours,” she whispers, looking me in the eye. “I love you. Even the scary parts.” Her pupils seem to expand, color rising in her cheeks. “M-maybe I love them best of all.”

She’s…serious.

Finally, I’m beginning to believe her.

I know this girl inside and out. Enough to know she’s actually telling the truth.

It’s hard to believe, but the monster inside of me appeals to her.

She isn’t running away.

Gratitude sweeps through the rest of my madness so rapidly, I can barely form words. Margot is going to be mine. By choice. I don’t have to tie her down and force her to say she loves me. She’s doing it of her own free will. “That’s a good thing, Margot,” I choke out. “A very good thing. Because I left after the medal ceremony to go buy you an engagement ring. Everywhere I went, none of them seemed right. None of them were good enough for you. But I found one that reminded me of your skin.” Reaching back, I rip the object from my sagging pants pocket, using my teeth to open the black velvet box and take out the rose gold band embedded with diamonds. I slide it onto her ring finger with my mouth, sucking that sweet digit on the way back up. “I’m going to be your husband.” I buck into her. “Your coach.” Buck. “Stalker.” A hot grind that makes her gasp. “Your ruler and your Daddy.” I drop my mouth to hers. “And I’m going to love you to the point of pain every single day of my life.”

There’s a flash of something in her eyes. Maybe a hint of insanity to match mine.

And then she buries her fingernails in my back and drags them down. Hard. Drawing blood and making me groan from the pleasure/pain.

“I’ll love you to the point of pain, too,” she says, giggling innocently.

After that, it’s a frenzy. A sweating, grunting, hair-pulling mess of Daddy and little girl promises and threats. We make no apologies for our darkness—and we never will. It’s home.

Epilogue

Margot

Four Years Later

The cool metal in my hand. The red, white and blue flag waving above me.

Thousands of people cheering in the stands.