Page 48 of Pretty Cruel Love

“Dr. Weiss, with all due respect?—”

Thunder cracks and a strike of lightning flashes through the window, cutting off her sentence. She suddenly clings to me, shaking.

“So, you still have astraphobia?”

“I’m not scared of the rain.” She’s still trembling. “It’s the thunderstorms.”

“How do you deal with this when you’re at the prison?”

“I don’t,” she says. “My cell is in the corner of the wing, where it’s the most insulated from the outside, so I hardly ever hear anything. I shut my eyes to block out the lightning through the window, but unless it was a really bad storm… I have to distract myself.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll help distract you then.”

“You’ll let me finish with your cut?”

“No.” I’m done with that. “What were you thinking about before you came to the kitchen to see me?”

Her cheeks flush pink and she opens her mouth, but no words fall from her lips.

“Do I need to repeat my question?” I ask.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” she says. “I was trying to sleep.”

“Okay.” I pause as a round of thunder rattles the windows. “So, I misheard you moaning, ‘Your pussy feels so good on my cock, Sadie?’”

“Yes…”

“And you weren’t thinking about me coming to your side of the cabin and fucking you at all?”

“Of course not...”

“That’s good to know, then.” I bend low and kiss her breast through her shirt, sucking on her nipple until she moans. “Because even if I were to come to your side of the cabin, I wouldn’t fuck you.”

Why not? Her eyes ask, while her breathing slows.

“Because I’d want to taste you first.” I grip her waist and lift her atop the sink.

Without wasting time, I push her thighs apart and lower my head. I drag my tongue through her folds, slowly at first, savoring the taste of her arousal. Her fingers thread into my hair as she arches against my mouth.

She gasps my name—once, twice—until I slide two fingers inside her and curl them just right.

“Ride my fucking hand,” I growl, flicking my tongue against her clit as she trembles. Her thighs clamp around my head, her moans desperate and high.

She grinds harder, wetter, until she breaks apart against my mouth, her loud screams muffled against her arm.

Panting, I stare into her eyes as the storm continues outside. For a second, I forget about the cameras that may be searching for her. About everything except the way she just came undone in my hands.

I slowly slide my hand away from her and grab a towel. I take my time wiping between her legs, waiting for her to stop shaking.

“Feel better?”

“Yes, Dr. Weiss.”

“Ethan,” I correct her. “When we’re on this side, anyway. Clear?”

“Clear, Ethan…” She looks up at me. “Have you ever done that with any of your other patients?”

“Never.”

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