Page 9 of Dollhouse

Of course she’s feeling untethered. My life in Mercy isn’t meant for someone like her, all sweet whispers and soft heart. I abandon my study of the pines outside the window to catch her worried eyes watching me.

I don’t want to scare her. Unclenching my hands, I wipe them down my face until only wariness remains.

Her hand reaches out to me then, the shadows from the window frame like bars stretched across her body. “Can you sit with me?”

The floor creaks as I move to the edge of the bed and sit at her side. She takes my hand and brushes her thumb across my knuckles, studying them. Our hands look comically different, but it’s the first contact we’ve had in days and sates the urge to cover her body with mine.

“Noah,” she starts, pausing to lick her dry lips. “I’m just struggling. Them coming for me and Bo, trying to hurt you and Jesse. Eric turning out to be who he is, and Bundy. Even my parents.” Her eyes shine, but she sniffs and continues. “Everyone I thought I knew has turned out to be…awful. Evil. It’s just hard to stay okay when all the good keeps getting ruined by them.”

It takes only a few words from her to understand why Bo’s been glued to her side. The dull edge in her voice stresses me out. It’s one thing for her to be angry with me. Anger ispassion. But I’ve seen this listless, hopeless face before, and that was on Lily, before she took her own life.

When the world reveals that everything is a sham and that monsters run the show, it can make you fucking insane. I grew up in it, so I’ve dulled down my repulsion with it. Jesse deals with it through violence. But for everyday people? The puppet show can be too much to take.

“Emma, hey.” I crook her chin, rubbing my thumb along her bottom lip. “You are not facing any of them alone. I’m here. Jesse is here. All of fucking Mercy is here, behind you. In front of you.” Leaning forward, I press my forehead to hers, not missing her tiny intake of breath. Fuck it. “On top of you even, if that’s what you want.”

The smallest laugh falls from her lips at my audacity, and it’s a high I need a thousand more hits of.

“For a few hours I thought you sent those emails,” she admits, finally meeting my eyes. “I thought I was the joke between all of you. It felt like my world had fallen completely apart.” She exhales and wraps her hands around my forearms. “It made me realize how I feel. HowmuchI feel for you, and seeing that folder made me think I’m just a pastime for you.”

Her mouth twists, like she could mimic my detachment. As if she wants to hide how much it hurts. I hate seeing her do it.

“I don’t know how to make myself feel like I belong here. I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me, and I know the smartest thing you could do is let me go.”

She can’t hide the torment in those pretty cinnamon eyes, and her bated breath warms my throat before I tuck my head to kiss her. It’s soft, an olive branch. A reminder that I’m not always a tyrant.

I pull back, noting the way she stares at my mouth. “If you think there’s any danger in this world that I would let you face to save myself, then you are dead wrong. You’re part of us now, Em, and you’re stuck right here. All mine,” I say quietly.

She chews her lip, but I keep pushing. My lips brush her ear, then my teeth graze the curve of it. “Still can’t believe I caught someone as sweet as you.” I suck softly on the sensitive spot, and she squirms beneath me.

“Caught my own personal little angel in my hands.” I shift, crawling forward until she’s forced to lie back against thepillows, and I gather her wrists, pushing them to the sheets above her head.

“One I get to play with.” I trace her jawline with my mouth. “Tease.” I tilt my head, pulling back slightly so I can see her face. “Corrupt. All fucking mine.”

Her pupils blow wide, and she watches my mouth as if my words are prophet. I brush her lips with mine. “I always heard that being bad wasn’t rewarded, Emma, but you are proof that it isn’t true.”

SIX

Christ,I’ve missed this.

Nothing quite compares to watching the way my words make Emma’s heart race. The flush on her face replacing her sullen expression.

Because of me. That’s what she’d said. She didn’t wantmeto think badly ofher.

As if a devil could judge an angel?

“Baby,” I croon against her neck, lowering my body over hers, making sure not to nudge her ankle. I flex my hand over the wrists gathered in my palm, a gentle reminder. I’m taking the lead now. “How about this? You let me help your body sing again, okay? No, games. Just me and you.”

Her breath is shallow, eyes fluttering as I drag my mouth along her jawline up to her temple, leaving shadows of kisses along the way. She tries to turn her head to the side to meet mine but I pull back, releasing her hands and sliding under the blanket with her. “Hold this,” I direct, guiding her grip to the edge of the blanket so that I can crawl lower without it catching. “See? There are no cameras in your room, Em. If there were, thiswould still be hidden. Nobody can see what I'm about to do but you.”

She nods, hanging on my words as I slip lower, until it’s just me, Emma’s soft thighs, and her familiar shiver as my hands press them to the side. The long shirt she’s worn to bed—Jesse’s, the fucking dickhead—covers her cotton underwear, and I push it up her body to gather above her hips.

“Noah?” Her voice shakes from above the blanket.

“Yeah, baby?” I rest my head against her thigh and trace the outline of her panties with my thumb, making her jump.

She swallows. “I’m sorry I believed them.”

Good girl. I kiss her clit above the fabric and she mewls. “It’s alright. I understand.”