Chapter Thirty-Three
Tuesday
Tension simmered through the room the moment I hung up the phone. Mal appeared to revel in my discomfort, if his smug expression had anything to say about it.
“While we wait, kick off your panties.”
I hesitated for a moment before reaching beneath my skirt to slide my panties down my legs, stepped out of them and placed them on my desk. “There.”
My core clenched at the knock on my office door.
I cast Mal a nervous glance.
“Go on. Answer it,” he ordered, his deep timbre giving me goosebumps.
He looked positively deadly with that wolfish smirk lurking behind his mask. Despite the straitjacket, the chains and the numerous straps and padlocks holding him in place, he oozed the confidence of a man who knew he was in control.
I hedged toward the door, my hand freezing in midair as I reached for the brass doorknob. “Wait. What if it’s Rook?” The thought of the facility director popping in unexpectedly filled me with dread.
“It’s not.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He fell quiet for a beat. Then sighed, as if annoyed that he had to explain. It cut into his hour. “When he approaches, I feel it like a fire in my blood. It consumes me. Can’t eat, can’t sleep, I can barely breathe. The hatred burns me up, and all I taste is ash. It’s just the nurse.”
His explanation filled me with reassurance, and my shoulders loosened. “Okay.”
I opened the door and sure enough, on the other side was a nurse—this one different from before, with the same white dress and nurse's cap, but her veins were more prominent just like Frederick's had been.
Snatching the items, I closed the door and set them on the desk. “What now?”
“Bring me the coffee.”
Again, I moved to do as I was told. I knew that I could stop at any moment. There was nothing physically restraining me from simply leaving the office and having the orderlies escort him back to Ward Four. Even if I weren’t getting information out of this, I wouldn’t stop.
I was under the spell of this darkly intelligent and traumatized man. My heart, my pussy, my soul—every part of me ached for him.
Taking the coffee in hand, I moved toward him and paused just a few inches away. The large steel chair, paired with his own height, had him eye level with me, even with me standing.
For a moment, I found myself mesmerized by our proximity. I’d never been this close to him, not outside a dream. He had a five o'clock shadow under his mask, leaving me to wonder which poor bastard was responsible for shaving him.
His skin had been bright red, almost raw, the night before, like he’d been dropped into a pot of hot water. Now his skin, other than a bit of grime, was flawless.
“How did you heal so quickly?”
“Questions after my hour, Doc,” my patient murmured.
With my heart in my throat, I pressed my finger beneath his chin to tilt his head back and tipped the coffee cup carefully to the mouthpiece of his mask.
The intimacy of the gesture sideswept me. This was the closest I’d gotten to him outside my dreams. He smelled of smoke, salt and the aged leather he was nearly always restrained with.
The moment the coffee hit his tongue, he fucking moaned. That sound. Dark. Desperate. Delicious. It shot straight to my center, making my pussy thrum.
Since I wasn’t wearing any panties, there was nothing to catch the pearls of arousal streaking my inner thighs.
I started to shake again, from nerves or the pills, I wasn’t sure. The coffee spilled over his mask, dripping everywhere.
The liquid was still hot, yet he didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he laughed. “You’ve done it now. You’d better clean that up, Doc.”
I moved to grab a towel, napkins, whatever I could find to soak up the liquid.
“With your mouth,” he clarified with a growl. “On your knees, Little Nightmare.”
I folded like a metal chair at a wrestling match and collapsed to my knees without argument.
“Suck the coffee from the fabric.”
The front of his hospital-issued scrubs was soaked through with coffee, with the fabric morphing to his very large erection.
My eyes lifted to his to find him watching me intently over the lip of his mask, the devilish gleam in his orbs of gray urging me on.
The coffee’s aroma tickled my nose, but it’s not what had my mouth watering.
The soaking wet fabric was thin, morphing perfectly to his cock.
Large. Thick. Sheathed in a complicated network of green veins so dark, they appeared black in my dimly lit office.
My jaw went slack as I drank him in. This close to him, I saw now that he was just as I’d remembered him from my dreams. Beautiful. Lethal. Broken.
Entranced by his dark allure, I leaned forward and placed my mouth over the bulge in his pants. The moment I curved my lips over his girth and sucked, a delicious groan dropped from his lips that left me boneless.
“Fuck yes,” he inhaled sharply.
I stole another glance at him to find his thick lashes fluttering and his eyes rolling into his skull.
Satisfaction burned through me, knowing I was bringing him pleasure in this world filled only with pain and torment.
“More. More.” He pleaded. The chains rattled as he bucked his hips and pushed the bulge as deep as it would go inside my mouth with his pants still plastered to his coffee-soaked skin. “Take me out.”
Eagerly, I did as I was told and hooked my fingers into his waistband, peeling them down around his hips. The appendage sprang free, smelling of coffee and a heady masculine scent that was all him.
My eyes bulged at the sight of it. Erect, but with so much weight that it struggled to stand on its own. It was full, throbbing and already leaking fat beads of pre-cum.
“When’s the last time you did this?” It wasn’t my turn to ask questions yet, not until the hour was up, and we’d just started. But curiosity had the words pouring from me before I could bite them back.
“What, get sucked off by the girl of my dreams while trapped in a cartoonish amount of restraints?”
A thrill of sparks went off somewhere inside me.
The girl of his dreams?
He means literally, I mentally scolded myself. Complicated emotions too messy to acknowledge had me pressing a laugh, as if he’d told a joke. “No. When was the last time you had sex?”
“That depends. Are we counting rape?”
My heart tripped over a beat, and I sucked in a breath. “Mal…”
He could have scolded me for using his first name, but he didn’t. Instead, he sighed, shaking his head. “Every time I think you’re starting to understand just how fucked this place is…”
“Who did it? I’ll tell your father and make them—”
“Tuesday. Stop it.”
I clambered up. Not because I was usually so obedient, especially when ordered about by a man, but his tone—paired with my first name in his mouth—was sobering.
He didn’t have to say anything else for me to understand what he was getting at.
Rook wouldn’t care.
The energy in the room turned heavy, and I swiped the back of my hand across my cheeks to angrily wipe my tears. “I’ll kill him.”
It wouldn’t be the first person I killed, though he’d certainly be the first intentional murder.
Movement at the edge of my vision had me dropping my attention back to Mal’s cock.
It was not only still hard, but it twitched and bobbed with excitement. The veins strained against the velvety flesh, vascular, virile and leaking even more pre-cum than before.
Oh.
I hiked a brow at him, my tears drying in an instant as I glimpsed his manic smile beneath his mask.
“Erotophonophile much?” It was the official term for people with a lust for murder.
He cackled, and his cock bobbed with the movement, as if it were also laughing. “Do I get off on murder? Not really. But it’s hot as fuck hearing you talk about it.”
I couldn’t fault him there.
My mind wandered for a second, imagining that moment when my father had choked on his own vomit.
I didn’t regret standing there and doing nothing.
In fact, many times I’d caught myself wishing it had happened sooner.
An even better scenario would have been if a dark knight had crawled through my window, seen my bruises, and killed my dad as punishment for failing to protect and love me?
The notion was appealing. As I turned the twisted fantasy over in my head, I realized I found it more than appealing.
It turned me on, too.
And it was in that moment that I realized I was completely and unequivocally fucked for this man. It didn't matter to me that he was my patient, or that he might be a monster or a madman.
He was the only thing that made my mind go quiet. That’s why I didn’t need the pills. He chased away my demons, he filled my nightmares so that no other monsters dare approach. He made the twisted parts of me feel normal.
Without another word, I stopped fighting against the invisible tether pulling me toward Mal and took him in my mouth.