Page 57 of Bad Demon

A sob burst from me, and I collapsed on the shower floor, still rubbing my now-stinging flesh.

Two more times. Two more times. Then, everything will be okay, and nothing bad will happen. You fucking idiot. You dumb bitch.

The bathroom door opened.

“Fern?”

I didn’t stop, lost to my compulsion, ruled by it, even more now than usual. The potion hangover was already setting in and making everything worse.

“Get out,” I shrieked.

The door to the shower opened. One moment, I was on the floor, sobbing and masturbating like a psychopath, and the next, I was in Relic’s arms, and he was carrying me out of the bathroom.

“Put me down,” I wailed. “I can’t … I have to … I need to …” I whimpered.

He lay me on the bed, and I scrambled up the mattress, my back against the wall, sweating and naked and flustered, while I rubbed at myself like a fucking twisted whore.

“Talk to me, Fern,” Relic said, an unreadable look on his face. Not scorn or disgust, just blank.

Thank fuck, he barely had any emotions. I couldn’t bear to see those things on his face right then.

“I have to come. I’ve only come twice. I need to do it two more times, and I … I can’t do it. I can’t.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay, baby. We’ll get you there. Stop rubbing, okay? Right now, you’re hurting yourself, and you’re not going to get off when you’re hurting.”

His calm voice slid through me, over me. Somehow, the panic receded, but the shame grew because there was no stopping now.

“Don’t look at me,” I choked out.

“You got it, Tinker Bell.” He turned away. “You got some toys, babe? Something that vibrates?”

I shook my head, then realized he couldn’t see me. “No. I’m not a whore.”

“Making yourself feel good doesn’t make you a whore, and toys can help get you there easier and faster than your hand. You got some lube?”

“No,” I said, dying inside.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure this out,” he said.

He didn’t ask me why I was doing this or tell me to stop, or say there was something wrong with me. No, he was going to help me.

I stared at his wide back. “I’m disgusting. You think I’m disgusting, don’t you, Relic?”

His fingers curled into fists. “No, baby, you’re not disgusting. Far fucking from it.”

“I’m ugly and scarred,” I choked out. “And depraved.”

“If getting yourself off is depraved, then I’m depraved as well, Tink. And if you call yourself ugly ever again, I’ll take you over my fucking knee. There’s not one thing about you that is ugly. Not one fucking thing.”

I felt his words deep inside me, and I couldn’t hold in the ones that came out of my mouth next. “If I didn’t own your soul, would you want to … be with me?”

A growl rolled through the room. Then he chuckled without humor, so low that I felt it in the pit of my stomach. “Fuck yes.”

I chewed my lip, my heart pounding hard. “Would you know how to … get me off?”

“Yes.”

That was it—one word said with utter certainty. I was desperate. He was kind and handsome, and he’d sworn to protect me, apparently even against himself.

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