Chapter Forty-Seven
Deogal
Her entire body locks, and it’s beautiful to watch the dark colour fan across her cheeks. She counts her breaths, forces them low and steady, but it doesn’t work. I can hear every shallow inhale as though she’s already pressed up against my chest.
I shift forward. “Ask me something more interesting. What do you really want to know?”
She stills. “What makes you think I want to ask a different question?”
She follows procedure like it’s dogma. She’s painfully aware that all eyes are on her and there is no version of this where her job leaves unscathed.
I let the silence rot between us. Her pulse kicks hard, wild and uneven, gaze briefly flicking to the cameras above me. I feel the exact second frustration settles into her skin, when restraint starts to crack and something uglier pushes through.
A smile drags at the corner of my mouth.
She stares at me, voice tighter now. “What’s so funny?”
I stay silent.
“You must be proud of yourself. Is that why you’re smiling?” She pushes.
“Is it a crime to smile, Doctor?”
She presses her pen so hard into the paper that the ink splutters out and stains a dark circle over her own name.
“Do you enjoy making me uncomfortable?”
“Yes.” I answer quickly.
Her eye twitches. There is a long pause before she shifts forward in her chair, bravery staining the tip of her tongue. “You won’t talk to Peter because you think you can frighten me. Tell me, Deogal, do you think it’s easier to scare women?”
Her brain keeps searching for structure, for explanations, for somewhere safe to place me. That instinct is going to ruin her.
I shake my head. “No.”
She releases a small breath, like a sigh of relief.
“I don’t think it’s easier to scare women.” I continue. “But I do think it’s easier to scare you.”
I push forward. “Tell me, Doctor. Do I frighten you?”
A paleness touches her skin. Her lips move to speak, but the sound doesn’t come out. There isn’t a single conceivable word in her brain.
“That’s...that’s inappropriate.” She stutters out.
“Inappropriate?” I scoff, leaning closer to her until I’m within striking distance. Her eyes flash with concern and she instinctively puts space between us. “No. That wasn’t inappropriate. Inappropriate would be me asking you about who makes you wet at night.”
Horror stiffens her spine. She doesn’t even have the chance to hide it, to wrap it in that brittle bravado she wears like armour. No. She’s been caught, rattled to the core.
I let the words hang between us, enjoying the way the blood drains from her face.
“Stop—” Her throat tight, the word choking itself. Her reactions are becoming faster now.
“Are your thighs still damp?”
“What?” Her pupils are blown wide. “What are you saying?”
I lift my arms slowly. The chains cry as I strain against the material.
“Don’t play coy with me now, Doctor.” I coo, flexing my fingers and testing the give on the tight material holding me still. She notices the way I shift.
“What are you doing?” She squeaks.
The beautiful bite of pain stings me as I start flexing against my restraints. The chains resist me at first. Then, pop. The first lock bursts open. It lands with a thud that echoes around the room.
She pushes to her feet.
“Stop it.” She tries to keep her voice level, but it betrays her.
I twist my other wrist. Another pop. And then another, like popcorn bursting over a hot stove.
She stumbles backwards. “Deogal, stop it.”
A sudden banging on the door echoes through the room. The guards pummel their fists into reinforced steel, but they’re met with the lock.
I smile.
The moment she realises that help isn’t coming is a sight I commit to memory. Face drawn with terror. The way those cherry-red lips fall apart as a scream threatens to break.
“Stop it!” Her voice cracks. “How did you do that?”
I tear through the last of the restraints like I’m stripping clothes from my body. They fall to the floor, one by one, in a mess of chaos. I kick sharply until the hold between my ankles shatter, shaking off the chains, they’re nothing more than loose threads.
The banging becomes louder, more desperate. And then Peter’s voice suddenly tears through the microphone. “Rheda, get out of there. We can’t get in and—”
I switch off the communication. Microphone. Cameras. The one-way glass.
Everything.
Until she’s utterly alone with her predator.
I don’t share the good news. Not yet. I let her think she’s being watched a little longer.
“Oh, my sweet, doctor,” the groan ripples through my chest. I roll my shoulders slowly and the feeling is fucking divine, each muscle stretching like it’s being used for the first time. I lean into the dull ache; I revel in the pain.
She backs away, and the rhythm of her panicked steps hitting the floor sends shivers through me.
“Stay away,” She warns, hands held high like she might actually fend me off.
I pout. “Don’t you want to play with me?”
I take my first step toward her, and her back immediately hits the one-way glass. Her fingers spread against it like she can shove her way to freedom.
“Get back!” It’s strangled and so fucking delicious. I love the way her voice wavers, the way her knees visibly tremble now. “I mean it, Deogal—”
Hearing her say my name does ugly things to my self-control.
“Come on, Doctor,” I murmur, “don’t look so surprised. You’ve been waiting for me.”
Her eyes widen, pupils blown dark, her whole body locking for that tiny, perfect second before panic takes over. I see the scream building in her throat before it ever reaches her mouth.
“What did you think about the photographs?” I flash a grin. “Did they make your pussy wet?”
I move before she can let out another noise. Two steps and I’m there, crowding her back until the glass presses cold and hard against her spine. She makes this small, broken noise, half gasp, half yelp, and folds into herself like making herself smaller might save her.
Not from me.
She looks at me like I’m the Devil. And God, I want to see how much further her fear can go.
“Don’t—” She whimpers.
“Don’t what, Doctor?”
Her cheeks burn red, eyes pricking with tears. “Don’t hurt me.”
“Don’t hurt you.” I say the words slowly, carefully, feeling the way the syllables shiver on my tongue. “But you let them hurt me.”