BY SARAH DANIELS
CONTENT NOTE:
Mature content. For readers 18 & older. This novella contains the following content that may be triggering to some readers. Please proceed with caution!
On page sexually explicit scenes, including: oral sex, mutual masturbation, D/s dynamics
Knife and gun violence
Murder
Mentions of sexual assault (no on page detail)
Drugging and Kidnapping
Torture including: being knocked unconscious, closed off in small spaces, knife play, stalking/being hunted, amputation
Blood and Gore
Mental Health: Dissociation, trauma, death of a spouse, pediophobia (specifically a fear of dolls)
RELATIONSHIP PAIRING: F/F
HOPE CENTER PLAYLIST
Suicide (The Lovers) - Fame on Fire
Necessary Evil - Memphis May Fire
system_failure - Conquer Divide
Unstoppable - Eva Under Fire
Shut Up - New Years Day
Dearly Departed - Escape the Fate feat. robbietheused
1
ALEXIS
“Rise and shine, Lex,” my fiancée, Amara Peterson, said in a sing-song voice before planting a chaste kiss on my forehead. The mattress shifted as she climbed out of bed, pulling the sheet and comforter off of me. The sudden whoosh of cool air made me shiver, since I only slept in a tank top and panties.
With an irritated grumble, I reached down and pulled the plush down comforter over my head, surrounding myself in warmth, and shielding myself from the sunlight as she pulled open the curtains on the window.
“Five more minutes,” I whined, but Amara pulled the comforter off of me again.
“Not today, my love; we have the board meeting at nine,” Amara said, with a little extra pep in her voice.
Today was a big day for Hope Center, the small hospital we work for in Downtown Los Angeles. We are welcoming five new investors that are joining our board of directors. Amara is the CFO of Hope Center, and I am the head nurse; our presence at this meeting was of utmost importance.
Rolling to my side to face Amara, my eyes scanned her from head to toe. She paused at the window, her emerald green eyes scanning her herb garden; a soft sigh escaped her lips as she hugged herself. The short, pastel pink satin robe she wore every morning shifted as her arms moved, the fabric lifting just enough to gift me with the view of the bottom of her perfect ass. Her long, black hair was wet, and fell in thick strands down to her lower back. The sudden urge to wrap that hair around my fist and pull her lips to mine had me soaking with arousal.
Of course, she’s already showered; my early riser.
As if she could sense my mood, she turned to face me slowly, her arms falling to her side. The stiff peaks of her nipples on display through the flimsy fabric had my mouth watering, desperate to taste her. Her eyes found our alarm clock on the nightstand, then shifted to mine; deep green gems stared into my soul, so full of love.
My eyes found the same alarm clock, silently begging the universe in my mind that I had enough time to claim what’s mine before work.