39. Sweet Psycho
thirty-nine
Sweet Psycho
Tulip: 2015 Age: 18
M y palm sweats as I tightly fist my key, tiptoeing across the hall. Silently, I unlock B’s door and slip inside, making sure to lock it behind me.
It’s not that I’m worried about getting in trouble. The Doc and Dan know I have a master key. I’m trying not to draw any attention so that Dan will leave us alone. My plan requires privacy. Otherwise, Dan might see more of me than he ever wanted to.
Brock’s sitting at his desk reading. “I thought you changed your mind,” he says, closing his book.
My eyes fall to his forearm, tracing the word I carved into his skin. Reminding me of the night we traded secrets.
“You’re mine. I’ll never change my mind,” I answer, meeting his questioning stare.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his brows dip as he examines my face.
I walk to the desk, raising myself to sit on it in front of him. “Do you really think Ollie will get us out of here?” I ask quietly, needing to say what’s been on my mind all day.
He leans back in the chair, crossing his arms. “He said they’re close to striking a deal.” A wicked smile covers his lips.
“Ugh,” I groan, letting my head fall back. “Don’t mention Opal. The thought of living with her will ruin the mood,” I protest in disgust.
“Hey.” He grabs the back of my neck, forcing me to look at him. “We need her. Once we’re free, I promise you’ll never have to see her again. Until then, play nice,” he warns sternly, leaning in to nip my bottom lip.
I narrow my eyes. “When we’re free, I’m getting my –”
“Stop,” he orders.
As far as I’m concerned, Opal let them give me away. She tries to spit a good story, but that’s all it is. A bunch of useless words she’s repeated enough that she actually believes them. It’s all bullshit if you ask me.
The only thing I’m thankful for is finding Brock. Life would be worthless without him. He’s become my everything. My world. My breath. Without him, I would be the psycho everyone thinks they see. Trust me, they don’t have a clue.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks, drawing me from my thoughts.
My eyes take him in, and suddenly, I’m smiling for a completely different reason. Under his strict supervision, I’ve managed to be good and stay out of trouble. Since I claimed him as mine that night, he’s forced me to wait. Now that I’m eighteen, I’m done being his good girl.
I lean my back against the wall and release the strings on my pants.
“What are…” he falls silent when I shove them down, letting them slide from my legs and pool on the floor.
I sit up, pull my shirt off, and drop it. “Your turn,” I order, leaning back, ignoring the excitement growing in my tummy.
With one hand, he removes his shirt and drops it beside him. His pants disappear before I can blink, and I’m stunned by the layers of muscles in front of me. I spread my legs and shove my underwear to the side. My free hand glides over my glistening pussy, and I can hardly stand the way it feels with him watching me.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he rasps, fisting his cock, awakening every nerve ending under my skin.
No one has ever called me beautiful. Hearing it makes my heart flutter as though my chest is full of dancing butterflies. “On the bed,” I hiss.
He moves to the edge, then leans back on his elbows, watching me slide my underwear off. “No blade,” he warns.
I lift my head, meeting his glare. “Fine,” I huff, pulling the metal from my bra before I reach to release the clasps. I drop the thin material. “Happy?” I mumble, dropping the metal on the desk where he can see it.
“I don’t feel like getting stitches on your birthday,” he answers sarcastically, watching me walk to him.
My mouth waters at the sight of the drop gathering on his tip. “There’s always tomorrow,” I purr, running my fingertip over the drop.
He grinds his teeth when I suck it clean. “Unless you tease me to death,” he grunts.
Until tonight, we’ve never seen each other naked. The most we’ve done is make out. So we’re both horny animals. But he knows this is my birthday gift, which is why he’s giving me complete control. Although, I’ve never been much of a follower. I’d definitely call myself a leader.
I climb onto the bed, straddling his legs. Slowly, I rub myself over his length, making us both hiss. “If you’re good, I’ll let you finish,” I tell him, reaching between us to grab his cock, lining his tip up.
Before he can argue, I slide down him, obsessed with the pain from the stretch. “Fuck,” he grits, pressing his head back into the mattress.
Chills cover my skin as I drag my nails down his abdomen. “I love you, baby,” I purr, rolling my hips.
His hands grip my wrists, forcing them to my sides. “You. Are. My. Sweet psycho,” he growls quietly, twitching inside me. “I love you too.”
I bounce on his cock, biting my lip to hold in the moans filling my throat. He releases my wrists, and I watch as his thumb rubs circles over my swollen clit.
“Come on my cock,” he orders, thrusting up into me. All his resistance shattered.
Warm waves erupt from my core, fluttering over my skin as I squeeze his length. “Oh fuck,” I hiss, riding the pulsing waves.
He pumps into me two more times before I feel him release inside me. I’ve never felt more loved in my life. I pity anyone who ever tries to take him from me.
Ollie and Opal sit across from us, waiting while B reads the paperwork they brought. Seeing them together sours my tummy. I promised B I wouldn’t say anything, and I never break my promises to him.
“So, if I’m understanding this. It means Tulip’s adoption wasn’t legit because both parents didn’t sign,” B announces, staring at his brother.
“Exactly,” he agrees, resting his arm on the back of Opal’s chair.
B rubs the stubble he’s started to let grow. “Now that she’s eighteen, can she leave on her own? Without being in someone’s care?” he questions thoughtfully.
“She can come home with me,” Opal chimes in quickly.
“No,” I growl evilly, pressing on the rage rising in my throat.
Brock glares across the table at her. “I want to talk to my brother, alone.”
She rolls her eyes and chuckles. “Fine, I’ll visit with my daughter, alone ,” she mocks.
“Never gonna happen,” he rasps coolly, ignoring her offended sigh.
Ollie squeezes her shoulder. “It’ll just take a second. You can check on —”
“Whatever, I know when I’m not wanted.” She shoves from the table, her heels clacking loudly across the floor.
Ollie releases a deep breath once she’s gone. “Fuck, she makes our dad look like a saint,” he admits to B tiredly.
B swallows hard. “You have to stay with her. I need to know what she’s up to. I can’t keep Tulip safe if you leave,” he pleads.
Ollie glances at me and then back to B. “You need to keep your psycho on lockdown. If she —”
“Don’t fucking talk about her,” B warns harshly, pointing at him.
Ollie’s jaw drops. “She shaved a girl's head, cut out half of her tongue, and carved slut into her chest. What would you call that?”
Clearing my throat, “Actually, I only cut the tip off. She bit off the rest. Annnd , I used slut, because whore wouldn’t fit,” I explain casually, defending myself.
“Not helping, princess.” B smiles lovingly.
“I’m already dealing with crazy. I can’t handle psycho, too,” Ollie spits frantically.
B holds up a hand. “I know you’re stressed. But you owe me,” he says, and I can’t help but wonder why.
Ollie’s head drops forward. “I know, little brother. I sucked at protecting you. I’m good. I’m not going anywhere. But, please keep her under wraps, or we won’t have a chance,” he tries to reason seriously.
B nods, side-eyeing me. “On it.”