“I don’t know. I think I’ve done this before, but—like everything with my life—I don’t know for sure. I can’t remember.”
“Then I guess we’ll play this by ear.” I can feel my heart thudding in my chest as my muscles tighten from head to toe. “Out of all the men you’ve seen here—not just patients, but workers, too—have you found yourself attracted to any particular sort of guy?” I swallow, but before I can answer, he says, “Be honest. You won’t hurt my feelings. It’s dark in here, so you can pretend I’m whoever you want me to be.”
A fleeting thought flies through my mind—what if he plans to do that with me? Pretend I’m someone else? Up close, I breathe in his clean smell, and his muscles feel hard against the soft parts of my body. Hasn’t my attraction been obvious? “You, Joe. You’re the man I want.”
I can hear a smirk in his voice as he says, “I was hoping you’d say that.” He moves his hands to wrap them around my wrists, and then he pulls my arms away from my body, holding them pressed against the wall. Bringing his lips to my ear, he asks, “And why do you suppose that is?”
Should I be frightened? And if so, what have I gotten myself to? No one here knows Joe is in my room, locked in here with me. I am not nearly as strong as he, and I suspect I’m even weaker than I should be, considering I’ve been in a haze for I don’t know how long. It’s possible that I’ve done something very stupid, made myself vulnerable at a time when I don’t have much protection or way to defend myself.
As he shoves his hard body into mine, I question my decision and wonder how I will answer…
12
I swallow again. Yes, I should be frightened, probably out of my mind, but I instead find myself turned on. Deep down, I believe that Joe is going to give me exactly what I need. He repeats himself. “Why do you think, out of all the men here, you chose me?”
When I speak, my voice sounds hoarse rather than shy or submissive, something I hadn’t expected. “I don’t know why. I’m…just drawn to you.” Is it because he was my first friend here? Or because I find him irresistibly gorgeous? Kind yet strong and fearless?
“I have a theory, Anna,” he says, bringing his lips to my ear. His hot breath sends a charge to my nether regions, making everything tighten in delicious anticipation. I might not be an expert, but he’s doing everything right. “I suspect you like bad boys—and you figured that out about me.”
I start to deny it, but the way my pussy clenches at his words, at the growl in his voice, at his heated breath, I know he’s right. A quick breath escapes my mouth but I have no words as he touches my neck with his lips.
Suddenly, my body feels like it’s on fire.
Then he mashes his lips into mine and we kiss like we never have before. As he consumes me, my nipples grow hard underneath the cotton t-shirt and all my attention is focused there until he once again pushes against me so that my back is pressed hard against the wall. Next, he shoves a leg between mine and moves it back and forth so I move enough to give him more space and I gasp at the suddenness.
But it’s not a gasp of fear. I am so damn excited, my body feels like it’s going to explode.
“Am I right?” he asks, nipping at my neck. My wrists are going to chafe under the pressure of his hands, but I don’t care.
“Maybe,” I say, not wanting to admit it. I think he’s finding it a little exciting not knowing for sure.
Does that make us sick? Crazy?
I can feel how he’s grown hard, and recognizing the sensation of what I know is his cock tells me I have most definitely had sex before. This is an all too familiar feeling. Without conscious thought, my pelvis tilts toward him, but I don’t know if he can sense it.
This time when he kisses me, his mouth is pressing hard into mine, crushing my lips, bruising the soft flesh again my teeth—but, unlike Bobbi’s strange possessive fury earlier in the day, Joe seems in control.
In charge.
Suddenly, I remember Joe telling her that I belonged to him. She’s mine is the exact phrase he used, as if I belong to him. Maybe that should upset me that his words have objectified me, made me a possession to be grappled over, but I don’t take it that way. Instead, it makes me feel valued, cherished, knowing that Joe would do anything to protect me, to keep me safe.
As his lips crush mine and his tongue dominates me, I suddenly feel so wet between my legs that I wonder if I’ve peed myself—but as I give into him, I realize that that, too, is natural.
It’s just like the first time for me.
Pushing my lips into his, I hope he understands that means I don’t want him to stop. As he moves his lips to my neck again, I hear how my breath is almost like panting, like I’ve been running. He releases my left hand, allowing his fingers to drift down my side, and I bring my free hand, tingling as the blood begins flowing through it again, to his cheek, and his whiskers poke my fingers.
But I think he knows that I want him, all of him, just as I think he wants me.
I feel his fingers as they make their way toward my waist, but then he lifts the hem of my shirt, sliding his hand up the smooth flesh of my belly. I suck in a breath then as desire grips my brain. I want nothing more than to have this man to touch me all over, satisfy needs in me I don’t even know exist. As if reading my mind, his fingers glance over my taut nipple, grazing it, and a tiny whimper forms in my throat as he licks my neck.
Then his lips make a trail along my jawline as his hand drifts back down my side, leaving me aching for more. But my thighs clench when his fingers instead pull the waistband of my sweatpants back enough for him to shove his hand inside. By now, the area between my legs is throbbing, pulsing to the beat of my heart, yearning for something.
For him.
He must know this, because he slides a finger down the slickness of my slit to find the exact spot begging for his touch. In my ear, he whispers, “Ah, you do like this.”
“Yes,” I breathe, barely able to get the words out of my mouth. I realize my toes are bent, clenching against the cool tile floor and my shoulder is digging into the wall, but those are minor distractions.
That finger of his—that has most of my attention, and he begins swirling it, slowly at first as I gasp at the new sensations rocking my brain. I adjust my pelvis and leg a little more so he can touch me even better, and I push my back against the wall to counter his pressure. A soft grunt escapes my throat involuntarily, and part of me wishes he’d kiss me again.
But the rest of me knows it would be mere distraction at this point.
Now I’m grinding myself into his finger to the beat of my heart, a tiny gyration that makes the sensation feel even better. “That’s it, baby,” he says, the sound of his voice like music to my ears. He presses into me again, his finger still working its magic, and he begins peppering my neck with tiny kisses. The additional stimulation is almost too much for me to bear, and I gasp again.
Now I focus all my attention on that one spot as my breathing quickens. Sure, it continues to feel amazing, but I can tell something’s about to happen. I’m on the verge of something spectacular, and I swallow before taking in another deep breath. Joe keeps moving that finger, slow and steady, and I pull another gulp of air into my lungs as a switch seems to flip in my brain.