Page 43 of Lonely
As I placed them back on, I sighed tiredly. It had been weeks since I’d had a decent night’s sleep. Sleeping pills were no longer sufficient. The time had come for something stronger.
I paused outside Carter’s room, looking around before stepping inside and closing the door behind me. The air smelled of him despite the open window.
I shut it to silence the cawing crows outside.
Besides, it was too cold to have the windows open at this time of year.
Rain pattered softly on the glass as I looked around his room.
His bed was made and I glided my hand over the sheet before reaching for his pillow and pressing it to my nose.
Breathing him in, I groaned.
I’d missed his smell and the fire in his eyes when he glowered at me.
Carter was special.
Carter was so very, very special.
After placing the pillow back down, I decided it was time to lower his dosage again. I needed him to be more lucid, or I’d never be able to feel the fire he stirred in me across the circle at group therapy or the blood pumping to my dick when he glared at me in my office.
I had proved my point.
I had proved I could lock him inside himself and make him disappear, and now it was his turn to prove to me that he wanted to stay and fight.
But when I returned to my office, a different sight greeted me.
Anna was draped over my desk on her back, in nothing but her tall heels and my striped tie from the other day.
When the hell had she removed it from around my neck?
“Hi, Doctor,” she purred, arching her back like a stretching cat and squeezing her small breasts. “I need you to fuck me like you hate me, baby.”
“Do you ever work?” I asked, locking the door. The last thing I needed was another colleague walking in on this grotesque scene.
“You didn’t complain when I sucked your cock yesterday or stomped on you with my heel the day before while you jerked your cock like a horny virgin, Doctor. We both know you like me.”
“I can’t shake you,” I muttered, opening the window, hoping the cold wind might encourage her to get dressed.
No such luck, because as I walked closer, her legs fell open.
She bit her lip innocently, but there was nothing innocent about her, and I fell for her trap, turning my body to face her.
She had a pretty cunt, and while it would always intimidate me, at least I didn’t break out in a cold sweat anymore.
“My mother hates you,” I said.
She smiled, twisting her nipples.
“Mommy should watch us fuck. She’d hate me even more if she saw what I do to her boy.”
“Shut up!” I retrieved my camera from the desk drawer and photographed her from every angle, instructing her on how to touch herself, where to pinch, and where to pull.
She had four fingers in her vagina when I finally lowered the camera and removed the Polaroid picture. I blew on it, watching her fuck herself.
“I heard a rumor,” I said, tossing the picture in her face, and she shook it off.
“Rumor?” She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed.
