30. Lilith
LILITH
Ifound out who Alaric has locked up in his storage unit.
Fraser Robinson. Cybersecurity mogul. Widowed. Father to one Steven Robinson.
While Hope fussed over the frozen cookie dough and the syrup she’d prepared before dawn, I uncovered his name and gathered a little information about him, thanks to the highly illegal face recognition app I’d gotten my hands on.
Now I have a very good idea of why Alaric chose him.
According to my research, Steven is a recluse, homeschooled by the best tutors.
That on its own isn’t unusual.
What set off alarms in my head was a photo of him at one of his father’s lavish company parties. The heavy makeup around his left eye didn’t fool me one bit.
That kid was beaten up, and since he was homeschooled, I had one guess who his bully had been.
His dad.
Steven’s sad, helpless expression hit too close to home, so I told Hope I had to leave early and rushed to my peephole. I had a feeling Alaric was heading down there earlier than usual. Something in his voice during our conversation had given him away.
I wasn’t wrong.
He was there.
Watching him deliver one violent punishment after another to Fraser was soothing. Healing.
None of it bothered me, as gory as it got. The slicing into his flesh, the stitches he’d sewn without anesthetic, the saline rinse—it was justice in its purest form.
It was hot too.
The veins on his hands pumped as he worked.
The tension in his jaw was lethal.
The concentration lines in the corner of his eye, the one I could see, I couldn’t get enough of them.
My breasts were swollen with need. My throat was so tight that I had to pull at the collar of my sweatshirt.
The ache between my thighs was strong enough to make me not care what Alaric wrote in his notebook.
All I could think about was getting home and playing dirty games with my doctor. Thankfully, Hope was up when I got back, so I told her I was going to fake fainting, and that if she heard a thump or Alaric losing his mind, not to worry.
Meaning, we’re blissfully alone and ready to start.
“Lilith.” His footsteps pound on the floor before the door to my room flies open, banging against the wall. “Fuck. Fuck.”
My eyes remain closed as I hear him run toward me. Cool air brushes my legs since I’m in nothing but one of Alaric’s T-shirts and a pair of panties that are already soaked.
The rush from his intense devotion…this is a whole other level of intimacy.
I hate that he’s worried, but I can’t bring myself to stop this game.
He’ll forgive me when he sees what I’m trying to do. Which is to get him deep into doctor mode so our game feels more real, darker, more depraved.
“Baby.” His hands are on me. One of them laces with mine, the other wraps around my throat, checking for my pulse, I guess. “Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you do.”
That doctor voice will be my undoing.
Desperate to see him, I crack my eyes open a fraction.
Alaric’s intensity hits me square in the chest. The full force of his blue gaze takes my breath away. Whether he’s standing or kneeling like he is now, the man is a god.
“Little devil.” His thumb is gentle as he traces it along my jawline, but his shoulders are tense. “There you are.”
Uh-oh.
Since opening my eyes does nothing to soothe him, I realize I might have taken this too far. The panic that’s just under the surface of his cool facade makes my guilty conscience work overtime.
Ugh, I should have texted him instead of just going with it.
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t try to speak.” He gives me one more look, then rummages through his backpack for something.
His phone.
His thumb slides across the screen, and a flashlight beam lands on me.
Even as it shines into my eyes, I can see Alaric isn’t freaking out a little. He’s freaking out a lot.
Dammit.
“I’m really fine.” To prove my point, I rise on my forearms. Alaric nudges me softly down. “Promise.”
My reassurance is dismissed as this beautiful man lifts one of my eyelids higher.
His narrowed eyes study mine as he commands, “Try not to follow the light.”
“Just close the door,” I whisper when he’s done with the flashlight and nods to himself. “Please.”
“I’m not leaving your side.” He pulls out his stethoscope, placing the earpieces in his ears after sliding it around his neck.
My pussy clenches around nothing when I realize it’s similar to the one we played with before. The only difference is this one carries a faint new-plastic scent.
I suck in a breath when he places the diaphragm over the collar of my shirt.
It feels so good, but I can’t keep hurting him.
“Alaric, I made a mistake.”
“Shh.” My cheek is in his palm while he listens to my pulse.
Another torrent of guilt threatens to swallow me whole when I see lines creasing his forehead.
I’m about to ask him to close the door again when a silhouette appears in the doorway. Without a word, Hope gives me a thumbs-up before closing the door.
At the soft click, Alaric’s head snaps back, then to me.
“She didn’t come in to check on you?” He removes the stethoscope from his ears. His scowl is deep, his face hardened despite the soft glow of the lamp. “What am I missing here?”
“I didn’t actually faint,” I blurt out, desperate to put this behind us and get to the fun part. “It’s a game. You know, playing doctor?”
His lips press into a fine line as he lets what I said sink in. I’m pretty sure no one, and I mean no one, has ever thrown him off like this.
Tonight, I have.
As I wait for his response, his expression changes. It shifts from mildly stunned to heated, then back to detached professionalism.
Yes, I was right. He likes the idea.
It’s a hardship to suppress a smile. To hold back from begging him to take me. But as always, I trust him, so I stay as still as a real patient would.
“Before we start.” His hand slides under my head, fingers moving slowly through my hair, grazing my scalp. “I don’t feel swelling, but I have to ask. How’s your head?”
My pulse skitters at his attention. He could have jumped right into sex, but instead, he puts me first.
“My head is fine. The rest of me, I think”—I spread my legs a few inches apart—“something’s not right, Doctor.”
As if refusing to be tempted before he’s sure I’m okay, Alaric cocks an eyebrow.
“Promise.”
“Lilith…”
My cheeks heat as I’m about to confess an embarrassing truth to him.
“I didn’t actually fall.” My teeth graze my bottom lip. “I was already lying on my back when I bumped my head on the floor. It’s nothing.”
Time stretches as his fingers probe the back of my head, checking, checking, checking.
“Okay, then.”
As he slides his hand carefully from under my head, darkness flashes across his eyes.
A moment later, Alaric the lover is gone, his warmth vanishing behind his physician’s mask.
Doctor Lockwood has taken over.
“Miss Rayne,” he says, voice even as he watches my face closely. He pulls his lips in when his gaze flickers lower to my breasts, to the outline of my peaked nipples, then he’s back to being cold and detached. “Tell me what date it is. And your full name.”
Nervous and turned on, I whisper the date, then add, “Lilith Rayne.”
“Not for long,” he murmurs under his breath. When I gasp, he clears his throat. “That’s a good sign.”
As much as I’m into our games, I have to hear it again. “You said something.”
“That you, being able to tell me your full name, is a good sign.” The weight of his authority has my stomach fluttering. “Next, I need you to tell me what hurts.”
My pussy, from being so empty without you.
“Something’s off.” My breath quickens when he grips my chin, tilting my head left and right. “There must be a reason why I passed out.”
“There usually is.” He lets go, only to drag his fingers down to the pulse point at my neck. “Don’t worry, Miss Rayne. I’m not clearing you until I’ve ruled out everything.”
“Thank you.” For playing along. For choosing me. For being my safe space.
“Hmm.”
His fingers move lower, trailing along my collarbone.
Then lower to my chest.
Lower still to the side of my breast. Even as he does it over my shirt, it’s as if I’ve been electrified.
I swallow down a moan when his thumb grazes the underside of my tit. My hands scrape against the floor as I fight the urge to reach for Alaric.
“It’s obvious you’re in pain.” Nothing about his low, steady voice suggests that he’s as affected by this as I am. That’s the part that truly makes my pussy ache. “Try to hold still.”
“Okay.” I want to be good, but it’s agony. My breath hitches as he slides his hand over my ribs, then my navel. “I will.”
“Good.” His fingers on my waist don’t tremble, his expression impenetrable.
Other than his cock straining his jeans, he’s committed to this game.
To me.
Even when a whimper escapes me as his fingers skim over my belly to the ribs on the other side, Alaric looks at me as if I were just another patient.
This is so dirty. So wrong.
So perfect.
“Any pain here?” His fingertips apply the lightest pressure on my ribs.
“No, Dr. Lockwood.” Despite being this close to jumping him, I take a deep breath and only bat my eyelashes. “Is that bad?”
A quiet hum is all he gives me as he shifts closer. But when he leaves one hand on my ribs, bringing the other to cup my cheek, his body reacts. His chest expands. His jaw tics. Teeth grind.
I’m not disappointed in the slightest to see his mask begin to slip.
In fact, while I admire his self-control, I get high on being the reason he’s on the verge of coming undone.
“Any dizziness?” His voice is thick as his knuckles brush my cheek, then the side of my throat. My skin prickles when he turns his hand and touches it to my forehead, checking for a fever. “Nausea?”
“Only impatience,” I whisper, wiggling my legs an inch wider. “It’s getting worse. Please, don’t leave me like this.”
“I won’t.” One corner of his mouth twitches, but he reins it in.
“Thank you.”
“Last question.” He settles the stethoscope back into his ears with practiced ease. “I can listen through your shirt, but the exam is more accurate if the diaphragm is placed directly against your skin. Is that all right with you?”