Page 94 of Property of Chaos

First time I’ve been home for a night in weeks, and I’m fucking regretting the choice.

“Shame.” She steps toward where she assumes I am, a little off but not enough to ruin the view.

The heartbreaker lifts her left leg to set her foot on the arm of the chair.God damn.

“Message if you can’t see enough,” she purrs, fingers spreading her cunt wide.

I can see enough, baby.My balls draw tight, and I close my eyes briefly to take a few deep breaths. Fuck me, it’ll be gold when I finally come.

“I missed you today.” She plays with her pussy as she speaks, a slim finger dipping in and out. “Missed how you make me feel better. Calm.” She gasps, adding another digit.

How long would it take me to ride there now? Could I get there before she finishes? Could I even fucking ride straight?Pull your goddamn head in, boy.She plays a game. I change the rules, and the fantasy shatters.Make the most of what you have.I pump my dick, lip snarled as I watch her legs buckle, a second hand joining the first to rub her clit.

Damn, I bet that pretty nub is swollen. Begging to be teased with the tip of my tongue. My breaths come ragged as I stumble backward, seating my ass on the edge of the bed to lean back on one elbow.

Her breaths fill the room, matching mine as I allow myself to near completion.A little longer.Just until she?—

Vanessa cries out, a choked whimper as her orgasm hits, her legs buckling until she’s on the floor, riding her hand for the final strokes.

My head hits the bed, and my eyes close as I replay that scene over in my mind, hot spurts of cum painting my stomach in stripes when my climax hits. I’m fucking boneless, languid, hand barely moving to milk the last from me as I prop myself up and look toward the phone.

And find her gone.

THIRTY-THREE

VANESSA

Stripes in varyingshades of pale brown adorn the wallpaper, running in wide bands from the ceiling to the floor. It wouldn’t look so bad, except the sun that spills through the glass panel frontage of the offices has faded the pattern from a foot below the ceiling, making the darkly colored section at the top appear as though rust runs from the cornices.

My heel jumps in a staccato rhythm, knee bopping as I wait for my appointment.

I feel as though everyone knows. As though the nurse at the front desk could see it in my eyes when I walked in. As though the couple on the street could smell the debauchery on me.

I masturbated to a veritable ghost last night.

The only proof he watched was the messages he sent at the start.

Did he see what I did before? Was that why he was watching and waiting on the other end of the camera?

You’re sick.Yeah. Sick and tired of notliving.Maybe what I did was fucking twisted, but shit, it made me feel alive.

That high has me glancing toward the consult room door and sighing. I figured I should see someone local about meds untilI could get an appointment with my regular therapist, but that bullshit last night just went to prove how far I’m willing to go to ease this burden.

This ache.

There are better ways to deal with stress.But are they as fun?

I shove the heel of my hand beneath my eye and squint them shut.Demure.Good women are demure. The others are lost to sin. That’s what he would teach us. Was he right?Fuck.I hate this part of my healing when the old and the new beliefs fight with each other.

How much longer?I should be grateful they could get me in to see this new guy on such short notice, but fuck, it’s not Dr Phillips.

I hate starting from scratch.

“Ms. Faith?”

I cringe at my legal name and rise from the plastic seat.

“This way.”

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