Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
Learning about Delilah’s kills was interesting to say the least. There had never been a record of her why on any reports Rowan could find—mostly because the police often didn’t care about that information.
Everything was always how many victims and where were the bodies.
But knowing the reason behind it all was oddly satisfying.
Delilah looked at people like they were toys to play with. Experiments to test and unravel.
She wondered how Delilah would play with her, what Delilah would do to unravel her, and what experiments she’d use to seek out answers from Rowan.
It was only in the confines of her own bedroom that she allowed these thoughts to circulate.
The buzzing of her scarcely used vibrator was loud in the dark of the night, her computer open on her left with Delilah’s case reports and trial images.
She wasn’t proud of what she was doing, but that didn’t stop it from feeling so good.
In the morning, she’d push the memory from her mind, ignoring the way she’d imagined Delilah’s fingers inside of her, curling and stroking.
She’d forget the way the memory of Delilah’s mocking laughter had filled her veins and fueled her orgasm.
Most importantly, she’d ignore the desire to have it all in reality, to take Delilah how she secretly wanted to.
And it was sort of true that, in the morning, she didn’t think about her night at all.
The bright screens of the security camera feed reflecting Delilah’s room showed exactly what she’d been aching to see as Delilah made it perfectly clear that escape had been the furthest thing from her mind when she inquired about the cameras.
Rowan’s attention was locked on the monitor in front of her.
Sweat slicked the back of her neck in the cramped and overheated security room that was getting smaller by the second.
Delilah stared directly into the eye of the camera, into Rowan’s very soul, as she slowly inched her hand down her very naked body.
The only thought Rowan had left that remained her own was to reach behind her and snap the lock on the door so no one would walk in on this. No one but Rowan would know that in the short span of twenty-four hours she’d crossed a line involving a patient. Twice.
Rowan squeezed her legs together. Just the knowledge that this show was meant for her was getting her hot. Boosting her ego. Ruining her boxers. She should be better than this—it was a violation in so many ways.
Delilah’s lithe fingers spread herself, legs splayed wide with one hanging off the bed, and Rowan couldn’t tear her gaze from the screen. There was no hiding as Delilah bared herself to the camera, to Rowan.
Her entrance glistened with arousal while she lazily swirled a finger around it, gathering her wetness and using it to coat her clit.
The entire thing was obscene. It made Rowan’s mouth water.
The look on Delilah’s face as her eyes fluttered closed when she slipped two fingers inside gave way to exactly how ready she was.
Her mouth parted in a tease of a moan that she knew Rowan couldn’t hear.
It didn’t matter if she could literally hear it. Because her brain supplied her with a light, breathy sound—the gasp which Delilah had made the other day when Rowan had shoved her back down in the chair in Adele’s office. Delilah’s goading words during their search danced at the edge of her mind.
The room was getting too hot, the air too heavy with desire. Rowan white knuckled the chair’s armrests to prevent herself from taking this even further. Her own wetness was growing uncomfortable as she failed to look away from the show.
Delilah swiped her drenched fingers back against her clit, slow and languid, like she had all the time in the world.
Like she was going to savor this. Or like she was waiting for someone to come in and take over.
She was teasing them both, her movements not even enough to get herself close.
And yet, Rowan was utterly entranced with the way Delilah reacted to her own touch.
She memorized the reactions. Every little movement was permanently etched into Rowan’s brain, slowly chipping away at her sanity.
Circles made Delilah’s eyelids flutter. Hard and fast swipes made her mouth part and her chest rise and fall in heavy pants.
Two fingers—never more, never less—made her arch her back and close her eyes as she drowned in her own pleasure.
And when she finally applied the pressure she needed in the form of grinding her palm down on her clit while she pumped into herself, Delilah went over the edge.
Her eyes stayed closed, her mouth open in a silent scream.
Her body froze before she convulsed, twitching as she kept going, riding out her orgasm on her own hand.
Rowan still couldn’t bring herself to look away.
Couldn’t stop imagining those walls closing in around her own fingers, the sound of Delilah’s screams and demands for more.
Rowan held her breath as Delilah pulled her fingers out and sucked them into her mouth. Her eyes once more locked on the camera as she made a show of licking them clean.
Fuck.
Rowan stayed motionless even as Delilah wandered into the bathroom, swaying her hips. Guilt threatened to cloud her mind when Delilah vanished from the frame.
She’d violated Delilah. Rowan had violated a patient. It didn’t matter that no one knew. It didn’t matter that almost every security guard had done worse—every time, Rowan had fired the perpetrators as soon as she found out. That only made what she’d just done even more horrible.
Then Delilah reappeared, tearing Rowan from her near spiral, and sauntered over to the sad excuse for a desk.
She’d been granted—as most patients were—a small sheath of paper and markers that were deemed “safe” and “unable to be used as weapons.” Rowan’s jaw ached and her body shook as she watched Delilah scribble something on a sheet of paper before holding it up for Rowan to see.
Together this time.
Rowan’s blood froze, her mind froze, her entire fucking nervous system stalled out. She hadn’t violated Delilah because Delilah wanted her to see it. It was an erotic showing meant specifically for her. Delilah had been counting on her watching, and had only done it because she was watching.
But Rowan couldn’t let her win this one. Because she knew this was a game, a power play, and even if Delilah would never know it, Rowan was not going to give in.
Rowan flexed her hand, trying to shake out the aching stiffness from clutching the chair. She was already moving the computer mouse to switch screens, to do her damn job that she should have been doing this whole time, when Delilah held up another note.
Now Rowan.
Her jaw dropped before she quickly snapped it shut.
Then, as if hypnotized, her body acted of its own accord.
Delilah had returned quickly to the bed and now Rowan’s own traitorous hand was mirroring Delilah’s movements exactly.
Tracking down between her legs. She gasped out loud when her fingers hit slick, wet desire.
The sound was loud in the silence of the room.
Choking down her moan, Rowan followed Delilah, and together they pushed two fingers inside, neither meeting any resistance. Rowan curled her fingers, pumping lazily just like Delilah and stifled another moan, unable to stop herself this time from grinding against her palm in a wanton need for more.
Ghosts of Delilah’s gasps echoed in her ears.
The ragged breathing she’d been imagining fluttered over her cheek and she forced herself not to close her eyes.
Rowan imagined her domineering voice and snide laughter, spurring her closer toward her orgasm.
She spread her legs further, as much as she could in the uncomfortable roller chair, and drew out her fingers, swiping furiously over her clit and still doing her best to keep pace with Delilah.
They sped towards their orgasm together.
The lazy and languid swiping was over now.
Delilah was going hard and fast, a punishment and a reward in one.
Rowan watched Delilah’s fingers, imagining how smooth they’d be against her clit, instead of Rowan’s own rough fingers.
The idea of Delilah coated in Rowan’s arousal sent her over the edge.
She came with the image of Delilah on screen—just as she had the night before, but this time, Delilah’s eyes were closed, her mouth open and her fingers drenched with arousal.
Rowan understood as she came down from her high that Delilah’s promise to break her had well and truly begun. Rowan’s walls were starting to crack.