Page 25 of Exposed
I shake my head. The reason doesn’t matter. I need to focus.
The acid.
I nuzzle my forehead on his leg and keep my head bowed, crossing my fingers he thinks I’m clutching him like this because I want to touch him. Quietly, I spit the tube into my palm, pretending like I’m clearing my throat, and I close my fingers around it. I rub my fist down his leg and uncurl my fingers against the concrete, letting go of the vial against the floor.
My muscles relax. This is good. The darkness will hide the vial like it’s something left behind from another patient or staff member.
Dr. Ambrose walks and carries me on his boot effortlessly like a child. Relief rushes through me as we add distance from our original spot, away from the acid.
Once he rests his boots on the concrete again, I gather myself. The leather material on my pussy folds is cool and smooth. He lifts his toes again, and I automatically dig my hips deeper into his boot. A grunt—or is it a moan?—bursts out of Dr. Ambrose, almost like approval. Pleasure waves through me.
As my eyes continue to adjust to the dim lighting, Ipour over his trousers. His bulge thickens, and I gasp. His tongue slithers across his lips, wetting the skin.
“Pleasure yourself,” he orders.
My toes curl against the concrete, my chin dipping slightly. As much as I might want to secretly do this, I don’t know if I can actually get off on his boots.
“Dr. Ambrose,” I say hesitantly. “I don’t?—”
“I’m an expert in this field, taking time away from my other patients to begin your treatment. You’re the one who wanted this, are you not?”
His jaw hardens. I flinch. Did Benji tell him it was my idea to come here?
I start, “I?—”
“Don’t waste my time, Miss Ward.”
My stomach knots. A drop of sweat or need tickles my pussy as it drips down. His heinous-sized cock stretches his pants taut.
Right now, he wants me and me alone.
And we’re alone.
Alone.
I’m supposed to kill him once we’re alone, aren’t I?
I’ll use this next test to wear him out,I tell myself.And once I’ve got a better understanding of my options, I’ll untwist the shower hose and use the metal head to bash his skull. I’ll be ready.
“You’re exhibiting characteristics of arousal,” he says, each word painfully smooth, oozing from my ears down to my throat. He rubs the top of my head. My scalp tingles. A low chuckle drums from his mouth. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, Violet? Being a nasty little cunt and rubbing yourself on a man’s boots just to get off.”
My breathing quickens, and his fingertips combthrough my hair, catching on tangles. He bends down until our eyes meet.
“I see you eyeing my cock,” he says. “I bet you’d take anything I’d give you. How does it feel to be so desperate?”
My mouth opens. Laughter erupts from his lips.
“So, you admit it. Youwilltake anything I give you,” he bellows. “Such an agreeable little cunt, willing to nod along to anything I tell you.”
Shock grapples my intestines. I touch my face. Was I nodding?
I shake my head vigorously to snap out of it, to wake up and be the same woman who woke up in bed next to Benji. The person I was before we drove to the asylum. Before the plan to kill Dr. Ambrose was ever in my head.
“No,” I say. “No. No, no, no!”
I deny it, but I keep grinding on his boot, my embarrassing wetness sloppily squelching through the room.
He nudges my pussy hole with his boot again, a leather cock ready to be inserted. My opening is sore from his fist, but I want him to kick me there, to knock me out of this lust-filled haze.
