Page 17 of Exposed
My belly clinches in a mix of hatred and lust right as Dr. Ambrose crushes my clit. I clench my jaw and muscles, refusing to cum. I can’t let him control me.
“Fuck. You,” I rasp.
“Oh, sweet one.” He nibbles my neck, the light pain of his incisors taunting me. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
Rage blinds me. I twist around, hurling myself at him. The assistant races toward us, but before he can restrain me, Dr. Ambrose digs his fingernails into my cheeks, my face tucked between his hands.
“Tell me you’re not ill,” he growls.
I snap my teeth, and he squeezes his grip on my head. Pain flickers in my temple, and I soften. His eyes roam over mine, digging into every facet of my brain, exposing me to his will.
I tremble. It’s too much.
“Tell me you faked every action,” he continues in a low voice. “Tell me your sexual behaviors aren’t compulsive. Tell me there’s not a depraved bone in your body.”
Tears drench me. He knows I can’t say it.
“Go on.” He raises a brow. “Tell me your boyfriend’s concerns were an overreaction.” He presses his lips to my ear and whispers, “Tell me you’re normal.”
My lips quiver at the mention of Benji. He did so much for me.
Normal. I am normal. Aren’t I?
If a person found out their mother was murdered, they’d become as obsessed as I am. This is natural. Isn’t it?
Lots of people like being fisted. Maybe even by strangers.
Not by their mother’s murderer.
Not by the man who may be their father.
With one hand on my face, Dr. Ambrose reaches between us and palms his cock through the pre-cum dampened fabric. Chills wave through me, goosebumps prickling over my skin.
Dr. Ambrose’s words stab my core: “Tell me you don’t belong here, and all of this will be over.”
Belong here.Withhim.
I open my mouth. “I?—”
The words are on the tip of my tongue, ready to jump out.I don’t belong here. This is not for me. It’s for her. I’m here to kill you. I’m here to stop your abusive madness.
I can’t say it though. If I say those words,thiswill be over. It will undo the hard work I did to be here. I can’t give up now.
Do I belong here though?
I shake my head. I don’t belong here, but I have to survive a little while longer. Otherwise, I can’t kill Dr. Ambrose.
He snickers, then steps back and adjusts his erection. My breath is lodged in my throat.
He motions to his assistant. “While Oliver finishes the exam notes, I will discuss your diagnosis with your boyfriend and determine your treatment plan.”
My eyes dart around the room. Is he going to leave me here? Alone? With his assistant? Why does that upset me?
“What about me?” I ask. “Why am I not involved in the?—”
“You will wait here.”
My head flinches back slightly.Wait here.That’s what he wants.
