Owners & Dolls Read Online M.A. Innes

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Insta-Love, M-M Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
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Kissing his nose, I shook my head. “We talked about this name business.”

As he laughed, I rested my head on my hands and smiled at my wonderful Owner. “I knew I would belong to you the first moment I saw you coming into the office. There was something magical about you and when I shook your hand it was like fireworks going off. Then you were the cutest thing and called me Mr. Davis. You made me feel like the most precious thing you’d ever seen and I knew I never wanted to lose that feeling. I love you, Mr. Luca, and I always will.”

He cupped my face, smiling tenderly at me. “Owners and dolls always know each other.”

“Because Owners and dolls were meant for each other.” Leaning into his touch, I turned and kissed his palm as I marveled at how lucky I’d been to find my Owner when I’d never realized I was a doll until he’d found me.

Owners and dolls had the most incredible connection and the most powerful love…and they would always find each other in the end.

Epilogue

(Kind of…Emerson was bossy and said you had to see this part too)

Luca

“What the fuck?” I’d thought the questions on how to take over the world with candy had been odd, but it’d been nice to know that he hadn’t lost his phone again.

But this…

Ian thinks my butt has his phone, but you’re the only man who puts things there. Should I let him check?

Good grief.

How much alcohol had they drunk already?

What the fuck was I supposed to say to that?

No. It wouldn’t fit, pretty one. He probably set it down somewhere.

Heading over to my computer as soon as I hit send on my phone, I looked through the calendar trying to figure out where the hell he’d put Ian’s address. The more I searched, the more I realized that the only things I knew about Ian was where he worked and that he was a little with two partners.

No, that wasn’t right.

I also knew he liked pancakes.

“Fuck it all.” I was going to start getting more details from my naughty doll before he left my sight.

His next random text didn’t help.

They said Master was a good title too, but you’ll always be Owner.

How he used commas in text messages when he was drunk as a skunk, I’d never know. But I knew enough not to engage on the Owner versus Master debate no matter how much he’d drunk. It wasn’t as silly any longer, but after accidentally confusing several people, including a startled cashier at Walmart, we’d decided that Master might be an easier title.

Especially if he was going to use it when we were grocery shopping.

It seems that BDSM was mainstream enough that people ignored that one, but Owner had even strangers who overheard us asking ridiculous questions. So for the sake of not ending up as another gossip news headline, we were testing out Master if we weren’t in a private scene.

I wasn’t sure it would last, but it sounded so sweet when Emerson said it, he’d started to enjoy manipulating me with it too.

What the fuck?

If I fell, would you pick me up? Ian wants to know because we might have lost Kenton.

Had they left the house?

Had they gotten stuck again?

Had they gone searching for the lost cell phone?

Taking a deep breath, I headed to the bedroom to find my keys and tried to decide how to text him back without worrying him.

Hmm, I think I’ve misplaced my sweet doll. Where would I find him?

An emoji was not a helpful response.

Where are you, pretty one? I’m going to come see you.

And see what had happened to the possibly misplaced Kenton.

Oh, am I lost like Kenton? That’s dangerous. You need to keep better track of me, Owner Master.

Heaven help me.

I wasn’t sure what I would do if he started calling me that.

“Okay, the guy’s name is Ian and Preston will know where he lives.” Yes, I should’ve thought about calling in reinforcements first.

Before I could find his name in my contacts, another message from Emerson popped up. It was an address and a text from someone who clearly wasn’t Emerson because they seemed to be sober.

They’re completely blitzed but Kenton was just in the bathroom and no one is lost.

That was good to know, but now I had an unknown sober person there too.

I’ll be right there.

Yep, I was going to go find my drunk doll…and I was really starting to regret arguing with him about putting a fucking tracker on his phone.

Maybe it wasn’t stalking if it was necessary?

****

Shaking hands with the guy who seemed to be Cohen, one of Ian’s partners, I missed part of whatever nonsense someone was calling out through the apartment as I went through the appropriate boring greetings. “Make sure Tony knows we didn’t come to the door. Oh, and tell him Emerson has all his clothes on. He’ll like that.”



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