Page 28 of Speak

I taper my anger. A gossip. Rita Overly is a fucking gossip. Instead I nod. “I see. Yes, I can see how being back here could possibly cause some triggers. I know my colleague, the one who was treating her, said he had made good headway with her. I’ll have him forward me her files. I know she was prone to…episodes. We wouldn’t want that here on campus, would we?” I shake my head until she’s shaking hers.

“No, no that… that wouldn’t be good for our… publicity. If… if she were to-"

“Oh, Rita, you’re incredible. I knew you were the one to go to for this. Have her come by my office, in next week or so?”

“Yes, I- I believe that’s a good idea. Thank you, Doctor Archer.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Overly.”

“Oh, it’s Miss.” Rita’s face flushes a pink that I (at some point in time Pre-Raven) probably would have found adorable. Except it’s not. It’s incredibly annoying and a bit sad how easy it was to manipulate her and I really wish she wasn’t so stupid.

“MissOverly,” I wink and before she can say another word, I get the fuck out of her way and head to the common area so I can get to my room and fuck my fist to the memory of Raven riding that fucking professor until he creamed his pants like a fifteen-year-old kid. I mean seriously.Maverick? Who names their kid that?

Except, when I get to my room, I catch sight of movement on my laptop, the screen showing me that my little bird isn’t alone in her room. No,mygirl is perched on a familiar boy's lap, and when he says, “I’m going to maim whoever did this to youbaby,” she. Fucking.Kisses. Him. But then, almost unnoticeably, her shoulders slump.

I can almost hear her thoughts waging their internal war in her head through the screen. Guilt. Shame. All unnecessary.

See? She needs me to tell her it’s okay. She shouldn’t fight her body. What she’s feeling is normal because she’s been weaning herself off of her medication, the little minx, and the fog in her brain is lifting and she’s coming back to life and she isglorious.

_______

I was right to worry. I was right to follow her here.

I sneak back into her room once she’s fast asleep, using the light of my phone to look around her room to see what had her so frazzled, in such a panic she chose to call me, not Axel,me.Albeit the immense sense of both pride and worry that had filled me was enough to have me finishing my run in a sprint to get back to her.

Her room is a fucking mess, papers everywhere, on the ground, on her desk, the printer. The only thing in pristine condition are her trashy romance novels on her bookshelf. I grin, memorizing titles so I can read them later. My smile fades when I spot the still-lit printer immediately sensing whatever caused her panic attack, this was the root of it. I go to it, open the lid to the scanner, grab the book perched upon it and with one fucking glance, I bite back my growl.

I gather all the papers strewn about and make my own copies, knowing the soft purr of the machine won’t wake her from the artificial slumber she’s in due to the medication. I was watching. She didn’t take halves or quarters like she’s been doing while she’s been out of my care. She took the entire thing.

Once they finish printing, I slip my shoes off and climb into bed with her, slipping off the heavy blanket, lying beside her on my side, I hold her against me, pulling all her softness against my hard ridges and she feels like exactly how I thought she would – perfect. The scent of Jasmine and berries and something like pomegranates waft from her silky hair, womanly and gentle, even though I know she isn’t as gentle as she looks. After everything she’s faced, she’s as tough as diamonds. I kiss her temple, above her scar. “You did so good, Raven. Such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.”

I let my fingers trail along the soft skin of her arm, down to her thigh and over the tattoo of the blossoming lotus, goosebumps rising in its wake. She doesn’t have to tell me what it means, nor the spider lilies growing on the vines from her ankle up her meaty thigh. Both flowers represent death, yet the lotus flowers signify strength, resilience, and most of all, they represent rebirth, being able to grow in the dirtiest and most stagnant bodies of water.

I savor this, her. The all that is Raven Olivia Monroe, as the violet of her nightlight against her porcelain skin captures the profileof her face. I commit it all to memory. All of it. I raise the hem of her oversized t-shirt, tugging it over her breasts, my breath hitching at the sight of her nipples, pink and taut, and lower my mouth to taste her the same way Harrington had the honor.

Except the only person that will be the first to enter and break her barrier will be me. I’m deplorable. Disgusting. They should take away my medical license. They could. But they won’t. My work with her will be groundbreaking. Except I wouldn’t exploit her in that way, ever. No, my work with her will be my –our– experiments and ours alone.

My lips travel from her nipples to her navel, turning her so she lies flat on her back. I bite back my groan at the black lace panties, tugging them all the way down, until they’re on an ankle and I spread her thighs. If I ever thought I was mad for Raven before, the feeling has fucking amplified. The most beautiful cunt I’ve ever seen is now before my very eyes. I was once a man that believed all pussy was created equal… until this very moment. Puffy hairless lips, a trimmed triangle of hair on her mound, and a little bud tucked in, waiting for me to make it unfurl and pebble, to lick and kiss and please. Inhaling her musk until my eyes cross like a predator sniffing its prey before diving in, I then lick from the bottom of her slit and up to her clit, seeking her out, to come and let me play.

I lap her up, her thighs tremble and her hips buck, her nectar a complete ambrosia created by all the deities, made just for me; to soothe and nourish the ache I have for her is past carnal desires –it’s in my fucking soul.I dip my tongue inside, seeking out more of her cream, wiggling my tongue, deepening each kiss I place against her. Breaking her tonight is not on my agenda. No. I’ll be doing this slowly, so when she comes to me, all she’ll feel is pleasure, never pain. Not by me. Not by my hand will she ever experience pain… unless she wants it.

I’ll give it to her anyway she wants me.

Her hand lazily lands on my head, her hips slowly bucking to grind against my face. “There you go, pretty girl, fuck my face.” I praise. “Take your pleasure from me, Raven. You’re being such a good girl for me.”

Her thighs close, squeezing around my head and with the most delectable gasp I’ve ever heard, she comes against my mouth,shaking for what feels like minutes until she falls limply against her pillows, satisfied with a small smile on her lips.

I could fucking scream with joy. Instead, I go to her drawers, pull them open until I find a pair almost identical to the ones she fell asleep in, put them on her, pocket the ones she was wearing, kiss her soft lips daintily, grab the stack of paper copies of the fucking ledger she stole, and leave the same way I came in, fighting the urge to stay, to hold her for a few more minutes.

But my job here isn’t done.

I need to know everything she knows.

Once I’m back in my room, and I can see better, I finally understand what had her so fucking distraught. I finally understand why she felt the need to wean herself from her medications, what brought her back to this creepy university, and search for answers.

Here, now, as the light above my head illuminates the words scrawled on the pages before me, anger coursing through me, rising like bile, I make the decision. I’ll be whatever the fuck she wants, whatever the fuck sheneedsme to be in her quest for retribution. Fuck a hero. I’ll happily help her become the villain she so desperately needs.

Truth be told, I hope she burns this whole motherfucking place down. I’ll be the matches, the gasoline, the kindling. I can’t wait to watch my Raven rise from the ashes she’ll leave at her feet like a fucking phoenix.

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