Page 22 of Lonely
CUNT!
“What a day,” I muttered, pausing at my office door.
I could still taste Anna on my tongue, tangy and forbidden. No amount of penance could clean this from me.I blew into my cupped palm, her unholy arousal still on my breath.
Mother was a bloodhound. She’d know.
Maybe I should have tongued Anna before meeting Mother for dinner that week. The thought of Mother hurting me because Anna had squashed my face like a melon and dug her deadly heels into my back was strangely stimulating.
Those shoes, though . . .
A shudder ran through me.
Her heels weren’t made for fashion. They were created for street fights and gouging out eyeballs.
I started to turn the handle, but changed my mind. Carter’s face flashed in my mind, his green eyes brimming with the promise of retribution.
I wanted to see him.
Suddenly, I craved to see him.
Turning around, I hurried toward his sleeping quarters.
My body was buzzing with anticipation as I nodded a greeting to a passing doctor. But my thoughts were already on Carter.
What was he doing, and what was going through his head? Had he thought of me since I ended the group therapy? I wanted him to think of me. To feel his cock thicken when his mind strayed to our sessions in my office. Did he lie awake and think of us at night? How he’d sucked my cock and drunk my cum?
When I passed, Nurse Miralda said, “Hello, Doctor.”
I noted the other nurses standing with her.
They liked to congregate, didn’t they?
Clucking fucking hens.
“Come with me,” I ordered without looking back, and their heels clicked on the floor as they hurried to keep up.
We entered Carter’s room. I took note of the barren walls, the lone bed, and the dreary view through his window. The man in question was reading a book on his bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.
My heart pounded harder as I stared at his socked feet and the dirty soles.
He ignored us, still reading, and one of the nurses glanced at me the way they always did when they weren’t sure what to do.
I supposed I hadn’t told her why we were here.
Why were we here?
My gaze drifted up Carter’s legs, tracing the muscles in his thighs through the gray fabric, lingering on his bulge.
He slammed the book shut, the sound sharp in the silent room, and my cock twitched.
“Doctor?” one of the nurses asked, her voice like sandpaper.
“Strip him,” I said.
“What the hell?” Carter snapped. He tossed the book aside, but didn’t fight the nurses as they removed his clothes one piece at a time.
His eyes stayed locked on mine, burning with rage and violence.
