Page 12 of Lamb

All I had was that card. Nothing else. But she seemed to be expecting me, which told me my mystery man was less of a mystery within these walls.

She turned around, her blonde hair pulled back high on her head and hanging down her back in a straight line. It toppled over her shoulders when she craned her neck to the side. But it was the little silver heart that sat just above her collarbone that caught my eye for no other reason than it looked more like a piece of jewelry you’d buy for your pet and not a gift for your girlfriend.

She followed my line of sight and grinned before laying a gentle palm on my shoulder. “If at any time you feel uncomfortable, there’s a red button on the wall. Press it and someone will escort you to a recovery room.”

I nodded once, because I honestly didn’t know whatany of that meant, while my ego wouldn’t allow me to ask. Then I watched her make her way back down the hallway, her hips swaying with each step she took in her impossibly-high heels before defiance had me pivoting towards the door again and shoving it open.

Red lighting danced across more black furnishings. A couple antique-looking sofas with the high backs, a dark circular coffee table that added a hint of modern to the rest of the aesthetic, a tray with a bottle of champagne, and a chaise lounge off to one side, closest to the wall. Once again, not exactly what I was expecting.

I didn’t risk my neck or my ankles climbing out of my bedroom window just to find myself closed inside an emo kid’s wet dream with some Poe-wannabe spitting sonnets in my direction.

I was two seconds from turning around and going in search of my own version of fun when the door crept open again and a familiar figure stepped inside. As tall and brooding as I remember him being with the black plague doctor mask on his face that matched the red one I decided to oblige him by wearing. That and I didn’t want to risk being recognized. It was one thing to sneak around my father’s back, another entirely to have it make the papers.

He took two steps forward, and I took two in the opposite direction. Not because I was afraid. But because if that night in the alley taught me anything, it was that I liked the way it felt to be backed into a corner and forced to fight my way out.

My shadow man continued to walk me backward, and just when I thought he was going to pin me against the wall, he stopped. Popped the cork from the bottle of champagne and poured me a glass.

“You look parched, Marisela,” he hummed.

“I look horny,pendejo,” I replied, listening as a low chuckle rumbled his chest.

“Is that why you think I brought you here? To fuck you?”

“No, I think you brought me to a sex club so that we could braid each other’s hair and exchange bedtime stories.”

Another laugh had me stomping towards the door. He stepped in front of it, blocking my path. “These rooms aren’t just about sex, little lamb. They’re about intimacy, trust, exploring the kind of desires you didn’t even know you had. But if you really want to leave, all you have to do is press that button.” He gestured to his left before pointing behind me. “Otherwise, go sit your pretty ass on that sofa like the good girl I know you’re dying to be.”

I didn’t want to be agood girl. I wanted to do all thebad thingshis filthy words promised me. But I didn’t want to leave either. It was that irritating point where what I wanted very much conflicted with my natural stubborn streak. And I didn’t like the way that made me feel. To want to give in as much as I didn’t.

“What’s it gonna be, Marisela?” he urged, a hint of cockiness belying the smirk I was certain he was hiding under all that leather.

“You have five minutes to come up with one good reason I should stay.” I walked back towards the sofa, lowering myself down on the middle cushion while glaring at him with a leg crossed over a knee.

“No, I have five minutes to show you why you’ll never want to leave.”

17

ADRIAN

She was annoyed with me. More than that, she was attractedto me. Despite never seeing my face. Not knowing my true identity. And despite how easily she’d ignored me that day she brushed by without ever bothering to look back.

She thought I’d brought her here to fuck her. And her nonexistent panties—I could tell she wasn’t wearing any the moment she’d crossed that ankle over that knee in defiance—were all twisted up over the fact I hadn’t made good on whatever fantasies she had playing around in that head of hers. Not that I hadn’t thought about it myself. That was the ultimate end game. To have her sprawled out in one of these rooms, a mess of sweat and cum as she cried out my name loud enough for the rest of the members to hear her.

Then again, she didn’t know my name. And it was better for both of us if we kept it that way.

Sure, this little game of cat and mouse was a nicedistraction. Better, less costly, and more gratifying than my sessions with Mistress Sadi—who refused to cause any long-term physical damage. Believe me, I’d asked. But that’s all it was. A distraction. A stress-reliever. Maybe a bit of an obsession. Definitely anaddiction. The kind that sneaked up on you before you even realized the needle was embedded in your arm.

But then you gave in to the thrill, the high of doing something you knew you shouldn’t be doing. And that’s what this was for Marisela and me. The lure of the forbidden.

I watched her finish her champagne, the pursing of her mouth and the constricting of her throat muscles as she swallowed, and pictured her swallowing something else. More like choking on it. Her eyes watering and her mascara running. But I wasn’t picky as long as she was on her knees looking up at me. Her cheeks puffed and her lips swollen.

But I also meant what I said. Being in this room was about more than sex. It was about trust. The kind of trust I wanted to build between us before I returned her knife and let her use it on me again. I had to give Miss Stab-Happy a stern lesson when it came to anatomybeforeshe landed herself in an orange jumpsuit—or worse, in a padded cell at Briarwood.

That place wasn’t just a literal madhouse. It was one lobotomy short of being overrun by a mob of patients whose deadened senses gave them the physicality of a bunch of angry gorillas, while their lack of a functioning frontal lobe gave them no reason not to use it against theguys in white coats who kept them captive. The old sanitorium was also onecitationshort of having its doors closed for good.

Not that I gave a shit. I was no saint when it came to what I liked to do with a scalpel whenever my attending wasn’t watching. There was no progress without experimentation. No experimentation without curiosity. Which brought me right back to my little lamb and all the “experimenting” I wanted to do with her. Andtoher.

Marisela slammed her glass down on the table, and I took that as my cue to show her the real reason I brought her here. I had about another fifteen minutes before the MDMA I’d slipped into her drink took effect, which meant it would hit her at the same time I planned to bring her first orgasm to the surface.

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