Page 43 of Fixation

HARPER

I ’m going to punch Anderson. I’m going to throttle him.

I’m going to be his for the rest of my life.

These thoughts aren’t as clear as the ones that I have when I’m not drugged.

These are more like ideas. More like feelings.

Floating and disappearing.

Here and gone.

While my mind works, the rest of my body is frozen.

My limbs won’t move. My lips are parted. My pulse has slowed.

This is the most terrified I’ve ever been. The most aroused.

While fear cinched my lungs in a vise grip, I experienced the most intense orgasm of my life.

That climax has transcended words, descriptions, and titles. It shattered me. This heat, pain, love, and holy shit .

I’m confused and hurt and throbbing.

I’m alone. He’s left the room, saying he’d be right back.

Something that reminds me of concern trickles into my consciousness.

Anderson’s touch, his ruthlessness, his filthy mouth…I gave in to it. I was used and treated like an object. I was given the freedom to let go.

I let him have what he needed, and I loved every second of it.

He humped my mattress and unraveled for me. He came to me when he was feeling unsettled.

He’s himself, and yet…he isn’t. While I was napping, someone upset Anderson.

And out of everyone he could’ve gone to for help—nurses, doctors, his goddamn home gym—he came to me.

My chest tingles. My lungs feel too big for my body.

Dread joins this heady, fuzzy feeling.

Where is he?

Anderson promised he’d be back, but it’s been forever. Or seconds. Or days.

What if he doesn’t come back? This drug might keep me like this for an eternity.

His father was insane.

There’s no telling how long I’ll be here, unable to move.

People could break into my home. People who aren’t Anderson.

People who might’ve figured out what I mean to him. Who’d love to hurt him through me.

While Anderson is at work, he can’t check up on me on his phone.

They could be lurking out there, and as soon as he’s gone?—

Oh my God. Oh my God. I’ll be gang-raped. Sodomized. Murdered.

My breath turn erratic. Eyes darting across the room, I desperately try to wiggle my fingers. Toes. Nothing, nothing helps. I’m truly paralyzed.

Oh my God.

“There you are.”

Anderson’s voice shouldn’t be a balm to my panicked soul.

It should evoke emotions such as hatred and disgust.

Instead, relief gives me a surge of hope. Gratitude. He didn’t leave me to deal with this by myself.

“Look at you.” He approaches the bed, one of my metal files in his palm.

He holds it as naturally as I do. My sharp tool looks at home in the grip of a man who cut, sliced, and sutured hundreds of people. Saved so many lives.

Ended forty-eight of them. Not including Werner and who knows who else he’s killed for me.

The inner shiver inside me isn’t a real movement. That’s…a notion. Yes.

“Being an obedient patient.” Anderson’s cock jerks once he’s at the edge of my bed.

He strokes my cheek, eyes fixated on my face.

“You’re doing exceptionally well, Miss Arlington.

I might have to keep you.” He’s playing with me.

There’s no might . He’s keeping me, I’m sure of that.

“You won’t be my patient, though. You’ll be my slut.

A pretty thing I’ll fuck whenever I’m in the mood. A womb to fill with my babies.”

To stay like this for life? No, no way.

He doesn’t mean it. Can’t mean it.

He’s still playing his kinky game.

His obsession with breeding me—I can’t keep acting like it doesn’t make me wet.

But I’m on the pill. I’ve been regulating my periods with it. I don’t understand how he’s missed that.

Whatever the reason, we aren’t going to have babies anytime soon.

“You will have my babies.” He shuts down my thoughts. Did he see the doubts in my eyes? Maybe.

He glares at me, and he’s serious. Vicious. His jaw is as sharp as the blade of the metal file.

His words rattle me to my core.

On the inside, I’m thrashing my body. How the hell could he read my mind?

On the outside, I’m his lifeless doll.

He runs the tip of the metal file over my shin. My knee. My thigh.

The mattress dips with Anderson’s weight.

My heart sinks when his lips curl into a sinister smirk.

You want him.

You need him.

I do, I do, I do. I’m so wet with it. So tormented, but then, warmth engulfs me. I’m his.

“You have such a pretty cunt.” He bites his bottom lip, unable to look away from my humiliatingly soaked core. “You taste unlike any other thing I’ve ever had. The most tempting fuck hole.”

Anderson’s expression darkens. He lowers the metal file to my pussy.

Terror clutches at my chest. I’m shuddering on the inside. Screaming for him to stop. He can’t see I’m terrified. I doubt he cares.

“We’ve spent plenty of time with my work tools.” It’s a deplorable thing to be turned on like this. When his fingers hold my lips apart, the metal file inches toward my skin. “Let’s test yours. For your medical records, of course.”

Oh God, oh fuck . The tip of the file is on my pussy. Anderson strokes it back and forth, and every inch of me answers his touch without ever moving.

My soul that comes alive.

Sparks are flying everywhere.

My nerve endings scream when he presses the dull edge to my clit. He isn’t being gentle, he’s just—this pressure.

Wow.

No. No, I need to hate the pain.

Need to hate him.

Can’t.

I could never.

Especially when he tilts it so the thin edge is brushing along my lips, and it stings, but in a good way.

Frustration and embarrassment push tears out of my eyes.

A cry I can’t let out lodges in my throat. I feel it right there.

Anderson’s gaze slices to my face, giving me a thunderous look. He’s starving for me, drawing sick pleasure out of this.

Lust flashes in his eyes too.

I’m swept away by it. I’m heated by it, freezing too. So good.

“I’ll keep you.” The depraved touch gets my nipples hard. Anderson likes it. Precum leaks from the tip of his cock that he’s stroking. “I’ll have you any way I like.”

The file travels to one of my nipples, turning me on even more.

“Those tears you’re crying are beautiful, Harper. They’re for me, aren’t they? Yes, they are.”

He cracks the file on one nipple, and I gasp.

I mean, I would’ve gasped if I could move.

“It gets you off, doesn’t it? Watching me unravel because of you.

” He drags the file around my other nipple in circular motions.

“Seeing me jacking off, my cock throbbing in my fist. Watching me come with your pussy in my mouth wasn’t enough for my little slut.

You’re begging me to shove my dick inside you. ”

He spanks my other breast with the file, sending jolts of desire from where he hurt me down to my toes.

I feel like…like…hearts. Like I have millions of them, and they’re hammering beneath my skin.

God, it’s so good to feel this. To have him do this to me.

More.

More.

More.

“You need to be fucked.” That third spank really hurts.

In a good way. The best way. “Trust me.” Four, five, six smacks.

All I can do is weep. All I can do is drip down my thighs.

“I’m just as crazy about you. As lost. Fucking you— having you—is a constant, never-ending need.

When I go to work. In the OR. When I fuck my hand in the shower. ”

I’m a raw nerve, sensing the movement of the file down my body as if Anderson uses a cleaver on me. The lower he goes, the more I feel . The more I crave him.

He reaches the area where I’m wet and soaking. Again.

I’m going to explode into a million tiny suns. I really am.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” His hushed, rugged voice is like his lips are on my nipples. Both of them at the same time.

I have no idea how. No clue what he’s doing or what’s this dangerous drug he put inside me, but wow. Wow.

“Before we officially met, those nights after you rubbed that pretty pussy, I watched you. I waited until you fell asleep and came in here, to your bedroom.” As he squeezes his cock harder, the veins in his arm pump. “I jerked off to you. Came all over your pretty virgin cunt.”

As if I’m not shocked and horrified enough, Anderson nudges the file inside my pussy. Less than an inch. Might as well have been all the way in, with how freaked out I am.

Although…

I’m not really freaked out, am I?

This is Anderson. The man who takes care of me. Who makes me wet.

The man I trust.

This isn’t torture.

This is love. Raw, messy, and beautiful love.

“Breathe.” Anderson sees into my soul.

He planned this. To have me outwardly numb and raw inside.

My Anderson wants this to be good for me.

It is.

“I’ve always been this man, Harper.” He strokes his cock from root to tip while looking at me. Dragging my own work tool in and out of my pussy. “Possessive, twisted. Addicted. I don’t see anyone but you. I never fucking will.”

The pain is sharp. My pussy stings, and then, oh—it’s good. Even better than before, because I’m not really hurt.

No, not me.

I’m safe.

Anderson is my safe space. My safe person. If anything happens to me, I can count on him to take care of me. I have no one else in this city.

I don’t want anyone else.

“Do you get that? Just how wrecked I am?” Though his anger is palpable, he doesn’t do anything that’d damage me.

I see it now. He’s being so careful with the file.

“You make me want things I shouldn’t. Make me need you.

Nothing matters to me if I don’t have you.

And I hate it. Hate and love this thing you’ve turned me into.

There’s this hole in my heart, Harper. I’ll never be complete without you.

Don’t want to live in a world without you there. I love you.”

I wish he never loved me.

I wish he’d never stop.

The file is out of my pussy.

I’m being flipped onto my stomach. Carefully. I’m not made of glass, but he’s treating me like I am. So maybe?

No, glass doesn’t have a pussy. A wet, aching one.

And the pillow beneath my cheek. It’s so soft. Feathery.

Nothing feels as good as the sensations between my legs. In my heart.