Page 51 of Fixation

ANDERSON

L ooking at Harper will always be the best part of my day. Always.

I could spend hours staring at her rosy cheeks, her parted lips. The rise and fall of her full breasts.

Everything else takes second place.

Eating, drinking, living. Fixing people to undo the damage I’ve caused.

These things mean nothing to me when she’s here.

Our two weeks together at home are almost over.

Two of the best weeks of my life.

Throughout this entire time, I was dead to the world. Every day, I’ve been by her side. Supported her. Took care of the place. Handled her laundry.

Taking care of her has made me the most whole I’ve ever been.

And every night, I’ve fucked her. Worshipped her. With my stethoscope in her pussy. My lips on her wounds. Hands in her hair. Stroking. Pulling.

Even while she was menstruating, she always came for me.

She’s taken my cum in her mouth, her ass, her womb. My gorgeous redhead has given me her tears. Her orgasms. Her soul.

The basement and her hospital bed—I haven’t mentioned either.

I haven’t forgotten about them. Thing is, she’s had to heal.

My job has been to help her with that. And trick her.

She believes her days in my makeshift hospital room are over.

That our games are over.

Soon, when she wakes up bound, she’ll see how wrong she’s been.

Harper hasn’t stirred as I carried her down here. She feels safe with the monster. In the bed of a man whose heart hadn’t truly started beating until she showed up.

The same beating heart hasn’t forgotten about the day that piece of shit driver kidnapped her.

The pressure on my ribs hasn’t let up.

The hole inside my soul is ever present.

The relentless pulse in my temples that begs me to show her my darkest side.

It’s there.

It won’t go away unless we address our problem.

I brush my knuckles over her temple. She’s a deep sleeper and worked late last night.

Harper is such a beautiful woman in the white, see-through hospital gown I ordered for today.

Me, I’m fully clothed. Midnight blue slacks. White shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. A white lab coat with my tag attached to it.

Her doctor.

“I’ve been merciful over the last few days,” I whisper. “Delayed the inevitable as much as I could while you healed. But the time has come. The moment I show you how I ached. When I remind you who you belong to, and it’s not that driver.”

No more.

No.

More.

Soon. This has to be done the right way.

I’m not a fucking savage.

Her skin is soft. Her cheeks, her jaw. I’m tempted to lean in and bite her bottom lip. Have her wake up screaming.

She’ll scream, all right.

In a minute. When her eyes flutter open. Even when she realizes it’s me standing over her, not that motherfucking driver.

The pain I’ll administer will be her cure. She needs this as much as I do, a reminder of how much I love her.

With me back at the hospital tomorrow, I won’t be able to be here for her all day, the way I wish I could.

This, what I’m about to do, will guarantee that while I’m treating trauma patients in the ER, she’s thinking of me.

Her protector. Her nightmare. The only man who truly sees her.

I can’t hold back anymore. While she’s still resting peacefully, I push the hem of her gown up her thighs.

Heat rushes through me at the sight of a couple of purple bite marks adorning her inner thighs.

I wish I could say biting her was enough to calm me.

It isn’t. She still cries sometimes in the middle of the night. I still burn when I remember that exact moment when I thought she’d be taken from me.

I slide the gown up to her waist, exposing her pussy that I shaved last night. She wasn’t as afraid as she should’ve been, of me, of the blades. I could’ve nicked her while she was writhing on me. With her head on my shoulder. With my name on her lips.

Of course I didn’t hurt her.

I loved her. It was an act of devotion, and I treated it as such, especially since it was the first time I’d done it.

I never cared about that type of bonding. Of connection.

Of trust.

I care now. I care about Harper.

A smile tugs at the corner of my lips. I lean over my Sleeping Beauty, spreading her bare lips and?—

Her body stirs. She mumbles something incoherent.

I spit on her clit.

“Anderson.”

My name, not I’ve been kidnapped . Finally, I’m back to being the one who haunts her in her sleep.

Stifling a groan, I bite my bottom lip. I pat her pussy in a quick rhythm, teasing and taunting her. The tortured sounds she makes have my cock thickening in my slacks. I’m the hard as a fucking rock.

I can’t, won’t, and don’t wait. With my eyes on her face, I hold her down, splaying one hand over her stomach and shoving two fingers into her sex.

“Anderson.” Harper’s eyes fly open, a gasp tearing from her throat. She blinks, adjusting to the light, rousing from her sleep. She relaxes when she sees it’s really me, a smug smile curves her lips up. “Dr. Maguire.”

“Miss Arlington.” I thrust my two fingers as deep as they’d go, and Harper rewards me by crying out. By pulling on her restraints. “You’ve been a bad, bad patient.”

My words serve as a wake-up call. She blinks again.

Between moaning and grabbing the sheets, her emerald-green eyes take inventory of my robe. Her hospital gown.

“You said I was good.” She gulps. Pants. Her cheeks are a gorgeous shade of red.

“Can’t you see?” I finger-fuck her pussy harder.

“See what?”

“This has nothing to do with you being good. You are.” I’m careful as I press her down by her stomach, mindful of her womb. “But…can’t you see it wasn’t enough? That I need more? Both of us?”

I don’t just need more. I need all of her.

“What are you going to do to me?” Lust and wariness mingle in her voice. Her nipples are tight against her gown. “Anderson, what are you going to do to me?”

“Red.”

Tears line her eyes, her cheeks reddening. Fearing me turns her on, so I give her more reasons to panic. I curl my fingers inside her. Add a thumb to her clit. Flicking it. Forcing an orgasm out of her.

“Oh God.” Her body lets go as she comes on my fingers. A tortured sob tears out of her. “Stop. Please, stop. I don’t want to be afraid of you.”

“Yes, you do. You will. And you’ll love it.” I change my hold on her, lifting her ass in the air, adding a third finger inside her pussy.

“Please.”

“Dirty little thing.” Fuck, she’s beautiful, being so full of me. “Already dripping on my wrist.”

I stroke her G-spot, throbbing at the feel of her swelling beneath my fingertips.

“No,” she chokes out, her jaw clenching. “I thought we were past this. I thought?—”

“I never told you I wouldn’t say Red again.”

She’s taking another finger. This is the most I’ve ever shoved inside her.

Without lube, without preparation, my Harper is spread and stretched with four thick fingers.

I’m so hard I could come in my pants.

“I’ll never stop using it.”

She’s on the verge of another orgasm. Of soaking my sheets. I want that. Feral for it. But she has to take my fist first.

“Too much.” Her thighs are trembling. Her clit flutters, pussy dripping. “It’s too much.”

“Lie all you want, kitten. You’re wet for it. So needy. Such a good little one.”

“At least”— gasp —“tell me what you’re going to do.”

Her fake fear makes me lose my mind.

At this rate, my facade won’t last. And I need her pain. Need my fist inside her.

I spit on my fingers, on her stretched hole. The depravity soothes me. This keeps me grounded. That’s how I regain a modicum of control over myself.

Watching her face twist in pain is what helps me keep mine blank. The cold look makes her shiver for me.

“Miss Arlington.” Watching her worry her lip, listening to the sounds of small whimpers…this woman will be the death of me. “Bad patients don’t get explanations. Moreover, when…”

I take my thumb off her clit.

“Dr. Maguire, please.” It’s a plea. A hushed, panicked, and fake plea. Harper’s pupils are huge. She’s going to love it. “Please, it’s too much. Too many fingers. It won’t fit.”

“I won’t neglect my duties. You’ll let me tend to you.

” My eyebrows lower, eyes narrowing. Harper closes her mouth, obeying me.

“You’ve been hurt.” I brush my thumb over her pussy lips, a warning of what’s to come.

“I have to check you. Have to be thorough. If you were good, I’d use more lube.

But this is where we are. Lie still. Take it. ”

“Okay, okay.” Fear flashes across her face. I groan, unable to bear this distance between us. She watches me, moaning and red and confused as I release her and climb into bed. “I—why?”

“Better this way,” is all I manage, shoving my four fingers back into her pussy.

Then I add my thumb.

The wet sounds my fist makes in her cunt fill the room, drowning out her cries. They bounce off the walls, rounding back and crashing into me like a fucking echo.

“Please. Fuck, fuck, it hurts.” She tightens around me, then stretches for me.

She’s so fucking good, lying there, being my good fucking patient.

She lets me twist my hand, moans when my knuckles graze her G-spot.

“I’m too small. Anderson.”

“We’re not done.” Her shaking legs tell me we will be soon. Any moment now, this will be over. God, I’m feral for it. For her. I twist my hand. Stroke that one place that turns her into a squirming, crying mess. “Let’s see. If I touch here?—”

I don’t get to finish my sentence when her orgasm shakes her to her core. Harper spasms beneath me, squirting on my hand, onto the mattress.

My cock jerks. My mouth waters for a taste.

“Anderson, what just happened?” God, I’m obsessed with hearing her scream. Looking at her beautiful and red-cheeked. All fucked up. Perfect. “What is this?”

“Dr. Maguire.” I pull out of her, and the depraved pop sound has her yelping.

I revel in her embarrassment, rearranging her so her knees are bent.

She’s spread wide for me, so beautiful I could die. So tempting, I can’t take my eyes off her leaking, swollen cunt. A puddle of fluid gathers at her crack, and it’s soaking the mattress.

I want it to soak me.