Page 14 of Fixation

“You said you wouldn’t kill me but, if you keep me locked up in here, as a prisoner…” My attention is on her while I snap the Velcro around her ankle. Her lips purse. The corners of her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I might as well be considered dead in their eyes.”

“You’re my patient.” Her other ankle is bound to the bed now. Her feet look so small in my socks. I love that. “Not my prisoner.”

“Oh my God.” A fresh dose of frustration pours into her voice. Still, she lets me bind her wrists. When my thumb brushes over the tape and the IV cannula, Harper watches me. “Can you at least tell me, why me ?”

Because there’s no one else in my world. From the moment I saw you, you’ve become my entire universe. I can’t wrap my head around it, and trust me, Harper, it infuriates and confuses me just the same.

“Why wouldn’t it be you?” is the answer I give. “You needed help. I’m helping.”

She groans. This isn’t the answer she wanted from me.

Too bad.

I tuck her under the covers.

Time to make good on my promise.

“There you go.” I put my hospital tag close to her face.

In her beautiful, hoarse voice, she reads my name out loud. Mine. I’m about to order her to say it a million times more when she continues.

“MD. ER surgeon.” Her mouth rounds in the shape of an O . “Holy shit, you are going to kill me for this. You won’t risk letting me go. Won’t risk having me ruin your career.”

“You won’t ruin anything.” I lean over to the side, opening the second drawer of the cart. Pull out two alcohol swabs, a new syringe, and a vial. “By the time I let you go, you’ll be thanking me.”

“Never, I—No.” It’s clear to her what I have in the vial. She slams her hands on the bed. Rocks her body left and right. “No! Stop! No!”

I wipe alcohol over her neck, hold her steady by her forehead, and inject her.

She’s intoxicating when she’s unconscious.

She’s a sight to behold when she begs.

“Please.” That final attempt almost— almost —breaks me.

No can do. If I break, she’ll use it against me. She’ll be out of here before it’s time.

She might press charges, despite her feelings for me. Despite being turned on every time I’m around her.

I’ll be behind bars. And she’ll be back to killing herself over work.

Our relationship will be over. She’ll return to a life she doesn’t deserve. Live with a man who won’t be able to give it to her.

A man who isn’t me.

“Anderson…”

“Breathe in. Count to ten.”

“Bastard.” Her eyes drift close. “This isn’t right.”

“Yes, it is.” Once she dozes off, I allow myself this peck on her forehead. A gentle touch to keep the beast at bay. “A bastard who loves it when you resist.”

Two hours later, I’m refreshed and showered. Harper’s anesthetic should wear off any second now.

I wait for it to happen. For her to come back to me.

My sleeping beauty. My Harper, lost in her dreams. Finally at peace.

Thick lashes rest on full cheeks. The crimson on them has lessened now that her fever is lower. She’s beautiful anyway.

She’s innocent. Sweet. At my mercy.

A long list of depraved sexual needs rises to the surface.

I could do any number of them to her, and she won’t resist me. Won’t struggle or tell me how much she hates me.

I’ll be free to touch her however I want. My seed will fill her womb. My cum will trickle down her throat.

The ultimate control.

I’ll give her the ultimate pleasure in return. Lick and bite and suck on her clit. She’ll be unconscious when she comes, and I’ll inhale her scent. I’ll do it for fucking hours.

And I’ll be breaking my promise to her.

Not like it matters. She thinks I’m a lying bastard, anyway.

I might be. I probably am.

But I still have some control over myself. While it lasts, I’ll be here to attend to her fever. Her flu.

In less than five minutes, I have everything I need to help her get cleaned up, including a change of clothes.

Then I’m back at her side. I don’t wake her. Don’t need her fighting me on this too.

Liar.

While I undo her restraints, strip her clothes, pop out the IV and close the cannula, the truth whispers in my head, Touching her while she’s helpless gets you off. Makes you hard as a rock.

With my cock straining in my jeans and my heart thumping violently, I ignore the whispers.

I squirt soap onto my hand and run it over Harper’s body. Her shoulders, her biceps. Her forearms. I lift her arm and clean the areas I couldn’t reach.

I’m doing my best to subdue my body’s reactions. Jaw clenched. Deep breaths.

My movements are methodical as I run a hand over her collarbone. As I circle both her breasts, her nipples.

What happens next is out of my hands.

The beast inside me, he isn’t me. He’s the one whose control has snapped. He’s the one who’s dry humping the side of the bed. Thrusting into it, his hips jerking, cock hard as a motherfucking rock.

Even though my body feels every stroke. Every bit of friction, this isn’t me.

And yet it is, while I keep fucking the bed. Rubbing more soap on her smooth skin, dipping my hand down the slope of her stomach.

Then I trace over her navel, my fingertips slipping lower and lower.

Between her thighs.

“What’s this?” My brow furrows in faux confusion. “Filthy little patient. Wet for her doctor.”

The need to fuck her beats against my ribs. A force strong enough to tear down cities.

I’m fucking stronger.

I think.

I move on, going over the rest of her body. Using the washcloth to wipe every inch of her clean. When I flip her on her stomach.

Meticulously, I repeat the motions until I get to her tight asshole. That’s when I snap.

My abdomen tenses with need. My hips jerk harder, harder, harder into the bed. I clean her up. Remove the soap from her pussy and her ass.

I’m nowhere near calm.

Mine.

I’m losing control.

Snap , and it’s gone.

One hand is on her hip, and I lift her ass in the air. I twist her to me, my tongue lapping at her pussy, dragging it in and out of her sweet hole.

Licking her pussy should be enough.

It isn’t.

I’m a sick fuck who’s been holding off for too long.

I lick higher, up to her tight, clean rim. She doesn’t clench when I circle it with my tongue. She has no idea I’m using the tip of my tongue to flick it while I buck my hips, hurting my cock so badly that—fuck, fuck, fuck , I’m coming.

My seed soaks my boxers as my cheek rests on the flesh of her supple ass.

“Good girl,” I breathe hard, pressing kisses to both her ass cheeks as I lower her back to the bed.

I’m high from this orgasm, yet this, too, is nowhere near enough.

There’ll be time to get my fill. Our fill.

For now, I have to finish my task.

I clean her up a little more, before placing her gently on the sheet I have on the floor. I’m devoted, making sure no part of her touches the dirty cement.

Just until I change the sheets in her bed.

Other people would’ve struggled with all these tasks.

I don’t.

For her, I make do.

I always will.