Page 18 of No, You Hang Up

I don’t know how he’ll be able to tell. And I sure as hell don’t know what Mida-whatever is. From the rest of his words, I’m definitely assuming it’s a poison. Or at least, something he’s overdosing me with.

God, I hope it doesn’t hurt.

Still fighting him, I grab for his arms, trying and failing to do anything of note. My teeth are still sunk into his glove as he holds me, and I see him check his Apple watch with a low hum of amusement.

“Oh, so you’re apanicker…” He chuckles. “I’ve met people like you before. It’s crazy how when people panic, if they’re committed enough, they can fight off the effects of—Oh, nope, there it is.” I don’t know what he’s talking about for all of about five seconds. At least, until I can feel myself sagging in his arms, and a second later he’s the only thing holding me up as my head spins and my overwhelming panic seems to melt into the floor.

His hand slides out of my mouth, and for some reason, I let him. The room seems to blur, and the next thing I know, I’m looking up at my ceiling as Huxley carries me back down the hallway to my bedroom. “What’d you give me?” I slur, staring at the fairy lights strung across my slanted bedroom ceiling.

“Midazolam,” he repeats, slower this time. “But I don’t expect you to remember. Or to know what it is.”

“Is it…” I trail off when he bends to drop me back on my bed, and I gaze up at him like he holds all the answers in the universe. I’m still afraid, still terrified of this man who definitely reeks of being a serial killer. But it’s a background fear. It’s not something that I’m able to fully access. “Gonna kill me?” I finally manage to mumble, my tongue feeling thick and clumsy in my mouth.

“It’s a sedative. So, no, it won’t kill you.” Huxley drops to his knees over me, his grin widening as he leans over me. “I’m a little disappointed,” he admits, reaching one gloved hand up to stroke along my cheek. “I wanted to play more, but you were just so determined to get other people involved. You weren’t playing by the rules.” He taps my nose before sitting back, making himself comfortable as he stares down at me.

“Can you blame me?” I can’t help the words, and I’m pretty sure the brain to mouth filter I have that half-works on my best day is now fully out of commission. “You want to kill me.”

“Ah, well.” He presses his hands to my hips, the gloves sliding smoothly over my skin. “Have you looked at yourself, Kai?” His grin is almost rueful. “You’re just so murder-able. And, let’s not forget, so fuckable.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.” he slides his hands up my sides, dragging my shirt up with him. “I don’t need you to believe me, though. Because I’m more than happy to prove it to you.” I blink once, and my shirt is up over my chest. When I blink again, both it and my bra are gone and Huxley is staring down at my face expectantly. “How’s that sedative treating you?”

“Hate it,” I murmur, though it’s too hard to put more effort into the words. “Hateyou.”

“Mm-hmm. I don’t always use it. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t have to use it earlier, don’t you think?” He moves enough to drag my shorts down my legs, and he’s almost gentle as he tugs them off one ankle, then the other. A low sound leaves my throat, like a whine, though he’s quick to lean down over me once more.

“No, don’t start that,” Huxley breathes against my lips. “You’re not going to beg, remember? You’re my lovely, feisty girl who promised she wouldn’t beg or plead.Shhh.” His hand grips my hip, and I sigh against his lips just as he kisses me.

This time it’s so sweet that I can feel my teeth ache with the honey of his kiss. He coaxes my mouth open wider, his tongue tasting every inch of me. Distantly, I can feel him nudging my thighs apart, but there’s nothing I can do to stop him. I feel like I’m floating, like my brain is wrapped in cotton candy to swaddle me and protect me from the real world.

All I can really focus on is Huxley’s mouth.

At least, until he presses two fingers between my thighs, thrusting them into me smoothly and pulling a sound of shock from my mouth. He chuckles and swallows it, greedily keeping all the noises I make as he fingers me open. I barely notice when he inserts a third, or when my hips start arching against him, though my movements are small and barely meaningful.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes gleam darkly, and he takes his time in studying me while he fucks me open on his fingers.

“Can’t move,” I murmur, like it’s some shocking revelation. I can’t even twitch my damn fingers.

“Midazolam,” he reminds me, sitting back and rearranging my legs so they’re around his hips. “You can keep being surprised and I can keep saying it, if you want.”

I know I should be afraid. Iwantto be afraid of him, especially when he pulls his fingers free and a shudder of need goes through me, like my body is disappointed at the loss.

Opening my mouth, I lose my train of thought when his face appears once again in over me, Though this time in my hazy vision, his face is backlit by my fairy lights, almost like he has a halo over him.

A long, low whine leaves me when I feel his cock at my entrance, and his lips curl in a confident, pleased smirk. “You’d want it even if you weren’t drugged,” he informs me, one hand on my hip as he teases my folds. He rocks against me, taunting me, not quite entering me, even though I’m sure he’s going to. “You don’t want to admit it, but I think I’m growing on you.”

“Like a cyst,” I manage to say. I’m so sleepy that I can barely keep my eyes open, but I force myself to watch him, and I try to swallow back the pleas that bubble to my lips.

I don’t want to die here.

Huxley snorts with amusement, and my body arches as he enters me in one smooth motion. I’m so relaxed that it doesn’t hurt, and some part of me, some feral, animalistic part, is pleased when he buries himself as deep into me as he can.

“You won’t last much longer,” he informs me, and I swear I hear a touch of disappointment in his voice. “You’ve got another few minutes at most. Anything you want to say to me?” he asks kindly.

“Yeah,” I start, only to gasp when he adjusts slightly and thrusts into me again, making me see stars. “I’d like you to not kill me.”

“How pedestrian of you. I was thinking more along the lines of where you want me to come, little bunny.” The nickname makes something in me clench with a feeling I refuse to identify, but apparently I don’t need to. Not when Hux groans and throws his head back, thrusting into me harder. “Oh, you should’ve told me you get off on that. Fuck, is it just that nickname? Hmm?” His hand on my hip moves, and he reaches up to grab my jaw again.

---