Page 7 of Lonely (Wellard Asylum #4)

Group sessions. I’d always hated them. But today wasn’t as tedious, because my favorite patient was there, watching me from across the circle with those moss-green eyes that burned a little brighter than usual. His attention was electric, and I liked how acutely aware I was of his presence.

He wanted to hurt me. Wrap his capable hands around my neck and squeeze until I blacked out, then bring me back just to do it all over again.

If he’d known the depraved things I wanted to do to him, I doubted he would’ve looked at me so boldly.

But I knew one thing: I wanted him to suck me again.

I needed those lips around my cock, and that fiery glare to pin me in place. Afterward, I wanted Mother to punish me for those vile, twisted thoughts. Thoughts that made me squirm at work. I might even tell her what I did, just to make sure she brought out the buckle.

It hurt. But it felt good. Because in my head, it wasn’t her anymore. It was Carter.

Carter spanking me. Carter telling me what a filthy boy I’d been.

Yes, I wanted him to hurt me real fucking bad.

Carter stared at me across the circle. He hadn’t taken his eyes off me since he sat down. His hair was mussed, and he was pale, with dark circles under his eyes.

According to his file, he wasn’t sleeping. I’d withheld his medication because I liked how he looked when he was sleep- deprived. I liked imagining him pacing all night, alone with nothing but his thoughts in that godforsaken place.

His knee bounced.

He wanted to charge me. Wanted to knock my chair over, drive his knee into my gut, and wrap his hands around my throat.

“Come, you motherfucker.”

“Carter,” I said, pretending to jot something down. “You’ve been quiet. Anything you’d like to share with the group?”

His jaw tightened, and I felt myself start to stir.

Arms crossed, he kicked his ankle up onto his knee and then stared me down. He stayed silent, and I liked the defiance looking back at me.

The other patients looked confused, exchanging glances and whispering until I shot them a glare. They knew I’d take them downstairs to the basement if they didn’t behave.

No one wanted to visit the basement.

I checked the time on my wristwatch. The session was over.

“That’s it for today.”

Without another glance at Carter, I left the room and nodded to the nurses gossiping in the hallway.

They had been giggling more than usual, and it was grating on my damn nerves. Why did they sound like fucking hens? Clucking and clucking until I wanted to bash their brains in. God knew the gray walls around here would look less dull smeared with blood and brain matter.

Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I entered my office and flipped the lock. I needed a moment alone to decompress.

A cold breeze drifted through the open window, and when I lowered my hand, I saw Anna seated on my desk, legs spread wide, her nurse’s uniform bunched at her waist.

But all I could focus on was that damn ankle bracelet and those blood-red heels propped on the desk.

“I was wondering when you’d return,” she purred, spreading her pussy lips with two fingers. I glanced up at the crucifix hanging on the wall behind her, a trickle of sweat sliding between my shoulder blades.

“Come here, Doctor.”

“This is highly inappropriate,” I warned as I stepped toward her. She only giggled, tilting her head to expose the creamy column of her throat.

The Devil was a conundrum. Giggled like a clucking hen but prowled like a wolf.

“Come here, Doctor,” she repeated, voice like sugar, biting her bottom lip as her eyes dropped to her slick cunt.

Mother would’ve smacked the back of my head for thinking that word.

Cunt.

Cunt.

CUNT!

No, a smack would’ve been too gentle. She’d have shoved the crucifix up my back passage like she did one Thanksgiving when she caught me staring at Chris O’Connor through my bedroom window.

He lived next door, and his bedroom was across from mine.

Sometimes he got changed after a shower and dropped the white towel from around his trim waist. I shouldn’t have looked at the way his wet body rippled when he pulled a T-shirt over his head.

Other times, he fucked his girlfriend against the window, his big palm planted on the glass. I shouldn’t have been curious, but I was.

He was rough.

I liked that.

Sometimes I stroked myself while watching him. Mother punished me when she found out.

“Have you ever licked a woman?” Anna asked breathily.

A flare of anger rose in me then because she was looking at me now like the girls at school used to when I passed in the hallway.

Pity.

“I’ve heard he’s a virgin.”

“Of course he is. Look at him. Who would want to fuck him? Such a fucking loser.”

“You should pity fuck him.”

“Ew, no.”

“He’ll die a virgin.”

Cluck. Cluck.

Anna pitied me.

“See how wet you make me,” she said, sliding a finger inside herself.

It slipped back out, slick and glistening. She circled her nub as I hovered nearby, unsure what to do. The girls at school had been right . . . I had never touched a woman until Anna inflated me like a bouncy castle on her couch while Little Mikey flicked his tail, silently judging me.

“Come here, baby. Don’t be scared.”

I didn’t like how condescending she sounded, but then she barked, “Come here!” and I scrambled to sit on the armchair in front of her.

This close, her cunt looked even more intimidating, but I barely had time to breathe before she fisted my thinning hair, thrust her heat in my face, and then ordered me to lick.

She tasted tangy, but I kind of liked it.

Or did I?

It would’ve been nicer if I could’ve breathed instead of getting waterboarded by the newest recruit during working hours, but the Devil didn’t care about my comfort.

“Yes, God, yes!”

I gripped her hips . . . more to hold her still than to encourage her.

Anna didn’t need help in that department. Her hips had a life of their own as she grinded on me like she wouldn’t be satisfied until her juices were everywhere. Even my glasses were smeared.

“You’re so filthy, Doctor.” Her breath stuttered as one of her heels slid off the desk. She dug it into my shoulder and moaned so loudly I was sure Mildred at reception could hear.

I grunted as pain flared where her heel threatened to impale me, but I kept licking. I kind of liked it, but I was also terrified of what would happen if I stopped. Anna was scary.

“Oh, fuck,” she almost growled, clawing at my scalp with her sharp nails. “I’m close. Aah! Stick your tongue in me.”

I did as I was told. She threw her head back and clamped her thighs around my head, squeezing so hard I half-worried it might pop like a tomato.

At least I’d be red like one when she was done.

She made a keening noise and then gripped the edge of the desk. Her back arched as she cried out, quivering in my hands.

Her compressor thighs finally released me and I straightened, wiping the back of my hand across my cheeks and mouth.

When she sat up and saw me cleaning my glasses on my shirt, she grabbed my chin, pulled me in, and stuck her tongue in my mouth.

She was very forward.

Releasing me, she hopped off the desk, smoothed her skirt down, and fixed her bun before digging a tube of lipstick from inside her bra.

I watched her reapply it without a mirror and smack her lips.

What would happen now? I didn’t know if she expected me to hug her. Women liked hugs, didn’t they? Mother didn’t, but she wasn’t like most other women.

My eyes swept over the mess on the desk. I had a stack of paperwork and a lobotomy to perform that afternoon. Hugs could wait. Besides, they made my skin crawl.

Anna looked at me and my tented pants, and a coy smile spread across her face.

Before she could maul me like the wild coyotes in the woods, I unlocked the door and pulled her outside. She teetered in her tall heels, her thighs red from my stubble.

I should’ve told her that her skirt was too short, but Anna liked to break the rules, and she would’ve taken my reprimand as an invitation to rebel.

If her skirts got any shorter, Mr. McAllen—an ailing, elderly patient in room twelve—would suffer a cardiac arrest. We already had Mr. Carson’s body in the morgue. What a mess.

His family was supposed to collect him weeks ago, but never showed. According to the clucking nurses, his only child moved abroad a few months ago.

I didn’t know all the details, but there was no extradition agreement with that particular country.

“Can I see you later?” she asked, walking her scary nails up my chest and sliding my tie through her fingers. “I’ll let you strap me to the table in the basement and fuck me.” She whispered the last part, then grabbed me through my pants.

A teasing smile curved her mouth as she looked around before slipping her devious hand inside my pants and palming my cock in full view of anyone who might have walked by.

“Don’t look so scared, Doctor. There’s no one here.”

Her hand felt good on me, but it was wrong. She was wrong.

I pulled her wrist out and raised my hand to smack her, but it hovered midair, trembling.

What was I doing?

I’d never raised my hand to a woman before.

She looked scared at first, and I liked it a little too much.

But then something shifted.

An excited gleam entered her eyes, and she stepped closer.

“Is that what you’re into, Doctor? Hurting women?”

When she spoke, the innocence was gone.

“I’ll let you hurt me.”

“She’s a slut,” Mother’s voice whispered in my ear. “A filthy whore.”

“What do you like, Doctor? Do you want to slap me? Cut me? Take a knife to my skin and make me bleed? Oh, baby . . .” She glided her hand over my hard length through my pants. “I’ll bleed for you. And because you’re such a good boy, I’ll let you do very, very bad things to me.”

“Don’t listen to her. She’s the Devil, and she wants you to forsake your Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.”

“I want to hurt you,” I replied, ignoring Mother’s warning and fingering a lock of her blonde hair.

I had always liked her hair. It was shiny and clean and smelled nice.

“I want to hurt you real bad.”