Theirs to Chase

Chapter 7

The Puppet

The car rolls to a stop outside the gothic-like mansion where I live, a perpetual shadow looming outside the three-story building. Gothic details adorn the house, gargoyles hanging on the outside, adding to the appeal. The gate automatically closes behind the car as I park it, unlocking the vehicle.

I get out of the car, getting to the other side to open Eveline’s door. Her eyes are wide, staring at the house in wonder yet with a gaze of cautiousness. She doesn’t trust me.

She’s right not to.

“Welcome to my home,” I tell her, leading her inside the almost-empty building.

We step into the hallway, its high ceiling looming above us, pillars lining the center, and a grand chandelier hanging in between. The space is dim, lit only by the soft flicker of candles. I guide her into a nearby seating area, where a few chairs and couches are arranged, their silhouettes barely visible in the darkness.

“Stay here, get comfortable. I’ll go call the cops,” I tell her, making my way away from the seating area and into a bedroom.

It’s huge, with walls lined around it, giving a perfect view of the hill the house is built upon, a lake visible far away, with leaves floating on the surface.

My shoes clink against the marble floor as I approach the figure looking out the window, onto the lake beyond and the forest surrounding it.

“I did what you asked. I brought her here,” I say into the silence, watching him turn around to face me.

Every time I see him, the well-known ache in my chest eases. He found me years ago—lost and shattered on the streets, cast aside by my family when they moved back to Greece, where I was born. From the moment we met, there was an unspoken connection between our kindred souls. I’ve been his ever since.

His brown eyes are intense as they rove over me, the flames tattoo creeping along the side of his throat visible when he finally looks at me. He’s covered in ink, far more than I am. Whereas my hands and arms are laced with intricate designs, all separated, his tattoos span his arms, chest, and neck, each piece a part of a larger story—feeling chaotic and deliberate all at once.

He’s taller than I, but not by much. A scar trails across his cheek, adding to his appeal and danger. I catch myself staring as he comes up to me, his breath hot on my face as his fingers trail my cheek. Bloodied fingers, which he smears over my lips. My cock twitches in my pants the moment his other hand teasingly smooths over my bulge, squeezing my cock. My breath hitches, growing heavier under his touch.

“Good fucking boy,” he whispers.

“Did you handle it?”

“Do you doubt what I’m capable of? Of course I handled it.” His lips tilt up into a smirk. “The cops are on their way there, believing the murderer took his own life inside the haunted house.”

I think back to the two influencers I befriended just for this perfect game night, and smile at the genius he is.

He leans in closer, nibbling my ear. It’s a torturous move to make me crave more. I’m desperate for his obsessive touch, but he’s been fucking fixated on her . Jealousy courses through me like a deadly disease.

He fucked her —the thought alone makes my fist clench.

He squeezes my cock harder until I whimper from pain, as his other hand forces my chin up to look into his eyes.

“Remember that it was you who set this plan in motion,” he growls, his voice dripping with venom. “Better get used to sharing, little puppet, because you’re both fucking mine.”

He captures my lips with his, and I feel the sting of his teeth before I taste the blood in my mouth. He smiles, eyes glinting in the darkness as he pulls away.

“On your knees,” he commands.

“What? Now?”

He levels me with a glare, and I instantly drop to my knees, excitement thrumming through me. The scent of blood wafts around me as I kneel closer to the hem of his bloodied shirt, which he hasn’t yet changed out of.

He doesn’t even have to ask. I remove his pants and boxers, watching his thick length stretch out before I wrap my lips around him. He instantly groans, pushing as far into my mouth as possible, hitting the back of my throat. I gag, and the vibrations prompt him to grip my brown hair, a stark contrast to his own blond locks.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans.

The way he fucks my throat is brutal and fast, yet I’m loving it all the same. I alternate between licking and sucking, my own cock straining inside my boxers, desperate for relief. I whine against his length as I palm his balls, drawing up tight with his oncoming orgasm.

Pre-cum leaks from me, and I desperately crawl closer, humping against his leg to get just that bit of friction. He stares down at me with a cruel smirk, and I know before he even opens his mouth that I’m not allowed to come. Not yet, at least.

So I continue sucking his cock, making him cry out my name until his spine draws tight, and he spills inside me—offering me all of him, just as it’s always been.

“Swallow it all,” he grunts, and I do as he says. He nods in approval, helping me to my feet before kissing my lips, tasting himself on my tongue. He palms my cock, making me whimper, in desperate need of a relief.

“Be patient, puppet. Your release will be all the sweeter.” He grins. “Let’s go play with our little toy.” He grips my throat, and I can’t help the moan escaping my lips.

“Yes, master.”

“Good boy,” he praises, putting on a Ghostface mask with a hidden smirk on his lips. “It’s game time.”

The Doll Master

I enter the seating area, a Ghostface mask concealing my features. The pretty little doll has no idea what kind of trap she has walked into—she’s ours now.

Forever.

I come up behind her, and she startles. “Oh god, you scared me,” she nervously laughs.

She catches sight of the Ghostface mask, swallowing harshly, yet I can feel the arousal oozing out from her.

“Did you call the cops?” she asks, and I curtly nod in response, not saying anything.

She seems to catch on to the act, because she licks her lips. “You want to chase me?”

I tilt my head, remaining silent. The tension in the air is thick, and my cock strains, uncomfortable against my pants, even after the blissful blowjob Eros just gave me.

I can’t wait to have her as my doll along with my little puppet.

“G?m dig,” I cruelly whisper. “If I catch you, I will fuck you and then punish you until the only name you can scream is mine. Spider is the safe word.”

“Do we really need one?” she naively asks.

“Oh, min mardr?m . The unethical things I want to do to you.”

“Will you hurt me?” Her voice strains from nerves, but I see her thighs clenching together. I nod.

“Okay,” she whispers. “Spider it is,” she says, as if trying the word on her tongue.

“You better hide well, because you’ve just walked into a den of devils.”