21. Brontë
Obsession - Mellina Tey
J ael ran for her life into the woods.
I chased after her like I always have. I always will. She understands this no matter how many times she runs. She resists, but deep down she knows there’s no escape.
She disappeared among the trees in wild desperation. I came up the rear, quickly closing the gap despite how fatigued I was.
It was my natural urge to do so. My instinct to follow wherever she went.
But there was a secret that she didn’t know. It was how I found her. It was how all the others would always find her too.
The truth would probably cause her to have another breakdown. Her deep bouts of paranoia have actually been justified. She’s been right to feel watched. Monitored.
Tracked.
All patients at the Brighter Days Psychiatric Hospital receive them—an implant behind their ear that serves as a tracking device for the doctors, staff, and anyone else they want to have access.
I have always known where Jael is because I have always known about the trackers.
I have watched from afar as my father and his employees implanted them in drugged patients who didn’t know the grass from the sky. They were often unconscious, and if awake, they were delirious enough to believe they were dreaming.
The same had been done to Jael.
She had been sedated. My father and his favorite assistant, Nurse Hinkley—or Big Bird as Jael called her—snuck a sedative in her food.
When she retreated to her room early, claiming she didn’t feel well, they waited until she passed out in her bed and then sent orderlies to collect her. They folded her left ear up and then placed the piercing gun at the delicate patch of skin.
Tiny beads of blood surfaced. They wiped it off like nothing before transporting her back to her room.
She woke hours later in a cold sweat, screaming and crying about the buzzing in her ear. Nurse Hinkley put on a fake sympathetic smile and patted her on the shoulder.
“There is no buzzing, Jael,” she said. “It’s all in your head.”
And when Jael refused to quiet down, she was given another sedative. She was told over and over again she was imagining things.
I knew the buzzing all too well.
I had experienced the same… except my father made it known what he was doing to me. He put my implant in under the threat he would withhold my pain meds—the one weakness he always had to expose—and made sure I understood if I took it out, he would know.
The day Jael was discharged was the day I ripped mine out. The gash behind my ear bled for hours.
But my father would no longer be able to track me. His control was dwindling. I had stolen enough pain meds to last me at least a few weeks. Long enough to go without his blackmail and manipulation tactics.
Jael wasn’t so lucky.
Her whereabouts have been known the entire time. If my father wanted to capture her, he could easily do so. He could turn her into the authorities and send them to arrest her.
It’s what clued me into McGrath and Dudley.
He had sent them.
Not in an official capacity, which was why the rest of their department didn’t know about Jael’s crimes or her whereabouts, but he had bribed them to collect her.
Bring her back to him and the hospital.
As night approached and she returned to the cabin, I knew I had to get to her before my father sent others. He would regardless, but if I got to her first, she would be safe. I could protect her.
I tended to her when she woke up. She protested, fought, and screamed until she exhausted herself. She hurled insults and cruel words at me, desperate to make me angry or push her away.
It worked.
The rage broke free and I gave her what she wanted—I made her feel pain. I made her feel good .
I showed her how easily I could take control and inflict what I wanted on her. My hand closed on her throat and I returned her glare as I squeezed. Her throat muscles flexed against my palm and she jerked her body.
She spit in my face and I slapped hers.
I elicited the same fear she had sought to draw out of me the night before. The pistol was the twisted reminder of what she had done to me. But as shock shone in her dark gaze, so did desire. Her whole body trembled, nipples beaded, as I slipped the cool metal barrel inside her.
My blood was beating in my veins. My cock harder than it’s ever been.
I fucked her with it like I would my cock and watched the sickest pleasure unfold on her pretty, heart-shaped face.
She came for me. She slicked the pistol with her juices. I lapped up every drop.
But I’m still not satisfied.
Jael falls asleep not long after I’m done cleaning her up. Her wounds have been cleaned and bandaged and she’s been fed. She doesn’t bother begging to be set free. Exhaustion sets in before she can.
Lights out.
I hover in the shadows where I belong and let her sleep. I’ve had little rest myself, though sleep has never come easily to me.
At the hospital, I roamed the corridors at night for this reason. I’ve survived on two or three hours a night from the time of my accident. Either the pain was too great or the mental anguish and instability made it impossible to settle my mind long enough to sleep.
Jael is different. She needs the time to recover.
I need the time to enjoy the peace these late-night moments bring her. But as she sleeps, her breaths gentle and almost soundless, the urge still heats my blood. I’m more animal than man picking up her scent in the air and feeling how my cock jumps in response.
The unique sweet scent of Jael that lives on her skin and draws me to her.
I step out of the shadows, closer to the bed.
She lays so still, so serenely, even while handcuffed. I’d changed her out of the bra and panties and slipped on one of the sleep shirts I found in the drawer.
The cotton fabric rides up her thighs, exposing all her supple dark flesh. I swallow against the rising tide of primitive lust threatening to take me over and instead move slow. I’m deliberate and unrushed as I peel back the blanket and push up the sleep shirt. Her round hips are exposed, the plump mound that leads to her pussy calling my name.
I stroke her. My large hand glides over the silken flesh and short patch of curls as I fight to keep myself in check. I keep the monster she believes I am—the one that dwells deep inside—at bay.
She’s so soft. So delicate to the touch.
The thought I could destroy her so easily enters my mind.
My fingers slip lower until I find her pussy lips. The folds are meaty and tender to the touch, the opposite of how rough and hard I am.
My cock throbs in response as I explore her. I spread her pussy open with my fingers and rub at the little pearl hidden away.
Jael tilts her hips as if sensing my touch. Her head turns to the side and a moan hums in her throat.
I go still, watching her reaction, transfixed by how her expression remains vacant. I’ve stood over her countless times like this, on so many nights as she fought through nightmares, that to see her so peaceful is a reward.
In my captivity, she’s sleeping better than she has in years.
It’s what she deserves. And I deserve my reward too…
Carefully watching the reactions flit across her face, I rub her clit and slip my fingers inside her tight wet pussy. I pull out my cock and stroke myself to thoughts about earlier, how she must’ve clenched around the pistol like she always clenched around my girth.
Silk heat that pulsed even in her deepest sleep.
A grunt leaves me, my fist sliding faster on my cock.
I hold back as long as I can before restraint snaps and my urges surge free. The bed sags under my added weight. I’m on my knees, drawing hers wide apart to fit myself in between. Guiding myself toward the warmth I’m craving, I push myself inside until I bottom out and she can take no more.
Jael’s body tenses up. Another sign she senses what’s happening from her dreams.
I press a finger to her lips and hush her.
Shhhhhh.
It’s just me. Deep down you know it is. Back to sleep.
My silent message works. She goes still again, her thighs limp and splayed open.
I start to move. I’m slow, restrained, drawing my hips back and then pushing forward. I stroke into her like I’m rocking her to sleep, and as her soft thighs cradle me, I realize that’s what I’ve always done.
I’ve always soothed her like this. Provided her comfort during the darkest hour of the night. The moments where she cried and thrashed in her nightmares. The moments where I sought to make her understand she was never alone.
I was always with her in the darkest shadows.
Her pussy ripples around me, gripping at me, drawing me in.
I thrust harder and bite down on my jaw to keep from grunting. Her pussy gives untold levels of pleasure. It shoots through my cock as she kneads me, traveling through the rest of my massive, muscular form.
I can feel it coming, the climax to this secret moment between us.
Jael moans. Her head straightens and her lashes flutter.
I watch her face as I move inside her. Every drag of my hips is slow but deep. My cock reaches the back of her tight pussy and her walls clench around me.
Her eyes blink to a drowsy open. She stares up at me, caught between sleep and lucidity.
I meet her heavy-lidded gaze and slide back inside her, my strokes not losing a beat. Not pausing my motions.
“Shhhh,” I whisper. I cup her cheek and drag my hips back, then forward.
She blinks again as if fighting sleep, but then she gives in. Her eyelids drift shut and her head rolls back to the side.
I sink in deeper, bottoming out, and finally let my groan free. My cock twitches as it spills inside her. My seed fills her up, dripping from her pussy lips.
But this time I don’t clean her up. I press a kiss to her brow and rub at her pussy through the wet mess I’ve made.
Just in case she doesn’t remember tonight, tomorrow morning she will.