Page 56 of Deeply Examined

“Oh,” I say, which apparently is the only response my short-circuiting brain is able to form at this moment.

His hand slips through the open back of my gown. Gliding along my skin to wind around my waist, he reels me in gently until my back is pressed to his hard chest. Butterflies explode to life as he whispers in my ear.

“I can fulfill all your fantasies in this room, Jessica. Even the ones you’re too scared to imagine, too timid to admit to yourself. You can be your true self here. There’s no judgment. Only pleasure. Onlyyouandme.”

The images his words paint send shockwaves through my body, lighting it up like a thousand suns, warming all the places where I’m the most sensitive. His lips find the tender spot behind my ear. He kisses me there, sucking and licking. I moan, arching into him like a cat in heat.

“I’m going to make you feelsogood, Jess. I promise,” he murmurs into my skin like it’s an oath.

“Pick something out,” he rasps softly. “One thing you want to try.”

Fuck.

I’ve lost my mind.

A day ago, I was a normal schoolteacher living with a slightly eccentric and incredibly irresistible man. Now I’m in his sex den picking out which toy to use.

Who am I?

Is this a false version of me, or the most real I’ve ever been?

With shaking hands, I select the nipple clamps and hand them over, unable to look West in the eyes as my cheeks burn with shame.

“Hey.” He turns me so our chests are pressed together, so my heart slams against his. His finger is under my chin, forcing it up until my gaze collides with his. His hand raises to brush my cheek and then tangle in my hair. I draw in a ragged breath. A million emotions battle in my chest. Fear, humiliation, excitement, desire. My chin quivers.

“It’s okay,” he says gently. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m not sure what to do,” I confess, as he helps me up on the exam table.

“Play along,” he whispers back. “Remember the safe word.”

Cupcake.

“Trust me,” he says, and I must believe him. That’s the only explanation for why I follow his instructions, for why my core aches for him, even in this strange room.

I watch, captivated, as he lifts a long lab coat from the counter where it lies neatly folded. In hospitals and clinics, lab coats are always white—a symbol of purity, of trust. But not this one. This coat is black, so dark it devours the surrounding light. The choice feels deliberate, symbolic. A silent declaration that this version of West is different. Darker. Dangerous.

Gray eyes study me, and a slow, playful smile curls his lips. “Shall we get started?”

Quickly, he strips the gown off me, followed by my bra.

I’m naked now. Exposed.

I lie on the table with my knees bent. In this position, my pussy is bared to West. His gaze flicks down, and his expression heats. When he gets out the stirrups, he doesn’t have to instruct me. I know exactly what to do. I put a foot in each one and spread for him, as wide as I can go.

“How have you been feeling?” he asks in his professional voice as he washes his hands.

“Bad,” I say, which isn’t true. Since I moved in with him, I’ve been content, happy even, but this is role playing. I understand that. I’m not sure if I’m doing it right, but I want to try.

For him.

For us.

Drying his hands with paper towels, he turns to me with a furrowed brow. “Tell me your symptoms.”

I think quickly, trying to come up with something good. “I can’t sleep. Can’t eat. I’m agitated, anxious.”

His gaze warms with sympathy and understanding. “It’s just as I thought. Youaresick.”

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