Page 143 of Fixation
“Are you listening to me, Anderson?”
“Yes and no.” I reach for the table, opening one of the drawers. “A few days of rest is what you need. Ice it and keep it elevated. You should be okay. I’ll keep an eye on you, anyway.”
“I—thank you?” my little patient whispers. Being grateful hurts her.
A pain I get off on. “You’re welcome.”
“Anderson.” My name is on her lips instead of another plea to let her go.
I don’t lift my head, grabbing the syringe. The swabs.
“Dr. Maguire, you haven’t answered my question.”
The full syringe is sterilized and goes on top of the cart with the swabs. “And?”
“Well, that obviously has to mean that…” she trails off, noticing the scissors I pull out of the drawer. “Oh. Please, no. Please.”
“Such a pretty liar.” Her leggings tear under the sharp scissors, soaked panties ripping without a fight. “You’re dripping.”
“No.” Her lips pinch. Thighs trembling, muscles locking.
She fights with everything she has to close her legs and fails.
Because my grip doesn’t loosen. Because I hold her down and watch her come apart.
That’smyhand on her calve. I can’t let go of her. I won’t ever be able to.
Still she tries to free herself. “Anderson, no.”
“Your body’s reaction is perfectly natural.” I raise my eyes to hers, rubbing up and down her calve. Tempting her with this innocuous touch. Satisfying barely an ounce of my deepest, darkest needs. “Nothing to be ashamed of. But don’t lie to me.”
“You murdered him.”
Fuck it. “Yes, I did.” Two fingers in her pussy, and she’s crying out my name. Clenching around me. My head spins with how much I’ve missed that. Jacking off in the shower today didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of how much I craved her. “He couldn’t have you. No one can.”
“You—oh, fuck,” she breathes out when I add my thumb into her pussy, gathering wetness. Rubbing it on her clit. “Do you hear yourself? That’s deranged.”
“Not deranged.” I stroke her slowly. Gently driving both of us mad. “I’m protecting what’s mine.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Glistening eyes stare at me.
“Nothing, Miss Arlington.”
My boots are off. Shirt up and over my head. I climb onto the bed, push Harper’s unrestrained leg to the side, and settle right there. Where I can see her cunt.
Where I can smell how much she wants me.
“Anderson, what are you doing?”
“Treating you.”
Her nipples are hard peaks beneath her thin shirt.
“Taking care of you.”
I tear the offensive piece of clothing down the middle.
“Fucking you.”
