Page 27 of Stitches

“Oh fuck,” I cried out, my orgasm teasing me as she milked my shaft, her hips working me over in a way that made my damn eyes roll back in my head.

Seeing her come was fucking paradise.

She slowed her movements when she came down from her release, making my brows crinkle.

Then she rose to her feet, leaving me wanting.

I stared in disbelief at her when she winked at me over her shoulder and left the room, her glorious hips swaying.

Ashes and I were both silent, sitting together with our dicks in our hands.

“I don’t think she’s coming back,” he said, humor in his voice, but devastation and surprise laced in with it.

“What the fuck just happened?” I looked over at him.

He grinned at me. “She bested us, brother. How fucking perfect is she?”

I shook my head. “Are we just going to let it happen?”

“Pretty sure it already has. Let’s give her this victory.”

I let out a sigh and stroked my dick. “For now. We can make her pay later. I’m thinking anal. I want to fuck her tight little ass.”

Ashes gave me a knowing smile. “Me too.”

“Well, then. I think we have wild plans for a night in the future, don’t you think?”

He said nothing, but it was the fire dancing in his eyes that let me know we were on the same page.

STITCHES

“How does that make you feel?” Janice, my therapist asked, looking at me from over her glasses.

“Bit cliché,” I muttered, sliding down in my seat in irritation. I rubbed my hands up and down my thighs, eager to just get the hell out of there. The fact they didn’t put a damn clock in these rooms caused me copious amounts of frustration. I felt like I’d been in there for the hour I was assigned. Hell, I felt like I’d been locked in there for an eternity.

“Malachi, I’m here to help you. To listen. To treat. I can’t do those things if you remain closed off.”

“I’m not closed off. There’s not shit you can do for me unless you unlock that damn door and let me leave.”

“You are mandated this hour to discuss your feelings—”

“I’m feeling pissed off,” I shouted at her, losing my cool. I fisted my hair, my chest heaving. “I want to leave. I don’t want to fucking talk. I want to go home, take my fucking meds, and then take a nap. Can I do that?”

She let out a sigh and sat back in her chair. “You know you’re hurting inside. If we don’t get to the root of it and make a connection, we can’t get you better—”

“You want me to get better? Then let me fucking go home. This place isn’t going to help me.”

“There are other options. We can admit you back into the facility. Headmaster Sully has been making strides in the treatment of many mental health issues.”

I glared at her.

“I’ll die before I go back in there,” I snarled. “Don’t even fucking threaten me with it. I won’t go back.”

“I understand you’re angry—”

“Either you’re absolutely clueless about what happens in the facility or you’re in on it. Whichever it is, fucks us both.”

“Nothing but treatment happens in the facility,” she said gently. “It’s not uncommon to see stress worsen mental health. Too much stress is never good for our bodies. I’m going to write you a new prescription for your anxiety.”

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