Chapter Thirty-Five
Tuesday
Mal wasn't just telling me to fuck him. This was more than sex.
He'd said so himself. I was his.
If I did this, there'd be no turning back. The consequences could be lethal. It would have been smarter to walk away and play it safe. The thought alone needled my insides to the point of pain.
At this point, I could admit to myself that I needed Patient Seventeen more than I ever needed the pills.
It was so much more than our love for books and raging daddy issues that drew us together.
He was the missing piece in my broken soul.
While I was with him, I was whole. I’d been chasing that feeling my entire life, so it was little wonder this charming psychopath was my latest addition.
And unlike the painkillers, there was no chance of weaning myself off this one.
Mal’s chair was large and sturdy, big enough to climb onto his lap with plenty of room for my knees to clamp around his hip.
My hands roved over his chest, and I caught myself wishing like hell that I had the key to his restraints.
I wanted to see what he looked like beneath his straitjacket. By the bulk of muscles straining against his chains, I had it on good authority that he was built like a chthonic Greek god. It had to be a product of the Treatment. It certainly wasn’t the water-thin slop they served the patients.
It wasn’t just the desire to see him that had me gripping his chains like an angry zoo animal. I wanted to feel him. What would it be like to press my naked chest to his and feel his heart race against mine?
I couldn’t even kiss his lips or comb my fingers through his hair without it catching on his restraints.
At least in our dreams, he was sometimes free. Too bad whatever it was that braided our dreams together happened less and less.
Rook warned me that the Treatment would make them go away.
Under no circumstances could I allow him to inject me with the second dosage of that shit.
A permanent end to the dreams was bad enough, not to mention Bunny’s little horror story about the employees before me who couldn’t hold their poison.
Monsters, she called them, failed mutations who were sent to live outside.
A chill worked through me, and I burrowed closer to Mal, my chin resting on his shoulder. “I wish I could hold you.”
With a turn of his head, his leather mask grazed my cheek, and a purr-like growl tickled my ear. “I’d burn this entire place to the ground if it bought me the privilege of holding you in my arms, Dr. Beckett.”
His words stabbed into my chest, filling my heart with a melancholy ache.
Pressing closer to him, his chains bit painfully into my flesh. I didn’t care. His body heat chased away the ice in my veins.
Banding my arms around his neck, I lowered myself onto his lap, closing the distance between my wet center and his steel-hard cock.
A swollen huff bubbled up my throat when his erection rested against my labia. His erection had so much weight to it that it pushed past my folds and pressed against my clit.
“Let’s pretend I have the key and I set you free. What would you do to me?” Another unsanctioned question, though I had a feeling he wouldn’t mind this one.
Lustful shadows roiled behind his storm-cloud eyes. “There isn’t enough time in our session to go through the whole list. They’d come looking for us.”
“Give me the first few moves then.” I grinned.
“To start, I’d tear off your blouse and savor the sound of each button popping off and hitting the floor.”
I nodded my approval. “Oh, good start.”
“Then I’d take your tits in my hands, memorize the feel of them in my palms. Pinch and pluck at your nipples so hard that every time you looked at me, they’d perk at the memory.”
Mal paused for dramatic effect.
“Then, I’d bite you.”
My core tightened, and I chewed my lower lip at the imagery his words invoked. A flirtatious nibble from a lover was one thing. A feral bite from a mental asylum patient forced to wear a mask for biting too much was another matter entirely.
Still, I couldn’t help but daydream with him.
“I’d strip you of all your layers and stamp my mark on your very soul.” He licked his lips, and his cock jerked beneath me, thumping against my clit. “That way, if we’re forced apart and made to spend our eternity in this hell alone, the Devil will know you belong to me.”
My jaw slackened at the dark conviction in his words. Spoken like a vow.
Slowly, I rolled my hips, grinding on his cock and coating it with my arousal. My God. The veiny texture of his shaft had a moan falling from my lips as pleasure mounted in my belly.
Otherworldly satisfying.
Better than any high from any of the drugs I could prescribe myself.
“That’s right, Doc,” he rasped. “Use my body.”
I wanted the feeling building inside me to last. But I didn’t have enough self-control to stop and savor it. My hips writhed back and forth at a frantic pace as I greedily chased my release.
Caught up in the heat of the moment, I pulled my arms from his neck and pressed my forehead to his to steady myself. Slipping my fingers into the front of my blouse, I ripped it open with one jerk. I was taken aback by how easily it tore. Like wet tissue paper.
The buttons popped every which way, clinking off the floor, the chair, my desk.
Mal’s eyes lit with mirth as he cackled. “Even better than I imagined.”
My hands curled around the links in his chain for purchase, while keeping my head steadied against his, skin to skin. With my face so close to his, our heaving breath tangled, the steel bars over his mouth fogging.
“I want to kiss you,” I said in a broken whisper. My chest heaved with an aching heart, while my nipples hardened against the cold bite of his steel shackles. “I don’t care if you bite me.”
That was a lie.
I more than cared.
I wanted him to do it.
He chuckled, the sound full of grit, bordering on a primal snarl. His eyes flashed and, for a moment, I could have sworn I saw them glow green around his pupils. “I’m not sure you’d be able to handle the pain.”
At that, I fisted a handful of his ink-black hair, gripping him by the head hard enough that he exhaled sharply through his mask, grinning all the while. “You’d be surprised at what I can handle.”
Angling my hips, I lined his tip up with my entrance and slowly impaled myself on his thick cock.
My mouth dropped with a silent groan as he stretched me open, internal walls quivering at the intrusion.
A deep growl rumbled from behind his mask, and I surged forward to paint a lick on the metal bars to taste his warm breath, mixed with the cool tang of salt and steel.
Mal’s brows contorted with feral ecstasy as he canted his hips and drove deeper inside me.
Sonofafuck. It hurts so good.
My hand dropped from his head to cup the back of his neck, keeping intense eye contact while I started to roll my hips. With him plunged so deep inside my pussy, I could practically taste him in the back of my throat.
He angled his pelvis in an upward motion again, this time hitting a spot inside me that had drool leaking from the corner of my mouth.
“Oh God, tha— That’s good.”
At that, he drew his hips back and, before I could catch my breath, slammed home inside me, making me groan with pain-laced pleasure.
Fuck.
I leaned down and brushed my mouth against his ear. “This patient is ready for her fluids, Dr. Rook,” I moaned in a low whisper, threaded with both fear and pleasure.
It was a gamble, using his formal title. The dark thrill of his forbidden name on my lips was too much to resist.
His eyes sparked. This time, I knew I’d seen a flicker of green around his pupils, like a shooting star searing the night sky. One blink and I’d have missed it.
“You’d best thank God, or whatever deity you say your prayers to, that I’m still chained up, Doctor. The mad thing inside me doesn’t like that name.”
The mad thing inside him?
He moaned his release, and through his dark threat, goosebumps exploded over my skin as we came in tandem in a violent wave of electric bliss.
Something wet curled around one of the bars in his mask.
A garbled string of moans, gasps and broken curses wrenched from me as I watched his tongue—long and thick and split right down the middle—coil around the steel.
That tongue.
It was the same one from my dream.
My heart clenched, my pussy pulsating, while pure pleasure and raw terror clashed in a violent battle inside me.
He was a monster.
A demon.
Something unholy.
Yet, I didn’t stop riding him until the last ripples of my orgasm died off. I sagged against him in a breathless puddle. As promised, he’d come again. This load was almost as large as the first, spreading inside me, hot and forbidden.
I closed my eyes, realizing my mistake in an instant.
His harsh, barreling breath evened out, and he hummed low in my ear. “Are you scared?”
I nodded against his shoulder, a maelstrom of emotions wreaking havoc through my system. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t show you earlier. I can’t control the thing inside me.”
Using my hands to push off his chest, I sat up and leveled him with a bewildered look. “No. I… Honestly, the hallucinations primed me for this. Or the dreams.” Or both. “I’m not on birth control of any kind. What if I get pregnant?"
Tension filled his shoulders, visibly swelling and making the leather straps strain on his straightjacket. “You won’t.”
My mouth opened, but no words came. He sounded so certain. “How can you be sure?”
“Trust me.”
The urge to fire off a rebuttal ebbed as it dawned on me. I did trust him. I was flabbergasted as to why, exactly. All I had to go off of was the pang deep in my gut that told me he was the only thing in this derelict hospital that I could trust.
“So… What now?”
I stole a glance at the analog clock on my office wall. Shit. We were well past the hour. I didn’t want to move. Given the circumstances, there was no knowing when we could do this again.
My attention snagged on the speculum on the desk. “What was that for?”
At the mention of the instrument, he snickered. “Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? My hour is up. You’ve fulfilled your end of the bargain, Dr. Beckett.”
I chewed my lower lip, unable to take my eyes off the instrument.
While it wasn’t a tool relevant to my trade, I’d had plenty of run-ins with it in medical school.
Not to mention my own personal experience.
There weren't many women who didn’t dread the approach of a pap smear appointment.
Shit was cold and invasive. I mean, there wasn’t anything arousing about lying in a bright white room with your hole spread by a medieval-looking torture device, while a stranger in a white coat crouched between your legs.
Even plastic ones were unpleasant, but this one was an old school—could be used as a weapon—heavy steel beast.
There was no way something like that would be a turn-on.
Maybe if Mal had his hands free, I’d be down if the doctor performing the examination was the alluring Dr. Malcolm Rook III.
But what was I supposed to do with it?
Curiosity ate me alive.
I lifted myself off Mal’s cock, making a lewd thwock as his still-swollen member sprang free, glistening as it bobbed.
“Alright. I’m ready for your torrent of questions, Sherlock.” There was a smile in his voice, but there was no missing the forlorn whimper he made as he watched me pad across my office.
He wasn’t ready to be done yet.
Neither was I.
I flung him a mischievous smirk as I pushed my desk chair to the place under the clock. I was wearing nothing but my cum-streaked skirt bunched around my waist, with my blouse and bra hanging open at my sides.
I had no idea how I’d walk out of here without anyone catching wise to what we’d done, but that was a problem for later.
Extending my pointer finger, I wound the hour hand counterclockwise, turning us back an hour. “What was it you said about time being weird here?”
Catching on, he chuckled. “Totally weird. Can’t be trusted.”
“Right. Looks like you still have one more hour with me.”