Page 52 of Torched Spades
Lust is a gateway sin, luring even the most virtuous down a darkened path. Besides, I don’t want to break Becca into submission. Watching her shatter her own precious morality will be much more satisfying.
“I’m going to come!” she gasps, struggling to keep her head lowered as her orgasm closes in fast and heavy.
Music to my fucking ears.
Curling my index finger against her front wall, I circle her clit with my thumb. The combination sends her eyes rolling back in her head, and her pussy clamps down on me—hard.
Becca throws her head back, bracing her palms behind her as she comes so hard tears stream from her eyes. She curses as I continue fucking her through the aftershocks, refusing to relent until she gives me what I want… What I warned her she’d do when this all started.
“Johnny…” she pleads, clawing at my hand. “Stop. I’m begging you.”
Mercy.
Sliding my fingers out of her, I lift them to my mouth, enjoying the shock on her face as I lick each one clean. “Violets,” I murmur. “Fruit and powder and sunshine, just like I said.”
Palming the back of her neck, I pull her toward me, capturing her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. She hesitates at first, then opens for me, moaning while tasting herself on my tongue. I only meant to prove a point, but the kiss grows harder, and primal need takes over.
I reach for my belt.
At the clang of the metal, she pulls back. “Stop!”
“Becca…”
“No,” she repeats, pressing her palm against my chest. “I’ve already crossed so many lines”—glancing down at her exposed body, her lips tremble—“and broken so many codes. Don’t make me destroy everything I’ve worked for, Johnny, please…”
It’s that fuckingpleasethat gets to me. I could easily mind fuck her into submission. Instead, I grit my teeth and step back, Owen’s warning ringing in my ears.
“If you want to fuck up, be my guest. But for Christ’s sake don’t drag another innocent woman into your bullshit.”
I didn’t want to hear it then, but he’s right. I’m doing to Becca exactly what I did to the last innocent person. I pushed and pursued her, too, and in the end, I destroyed her.
The façade is already crumbling. As much as I want to hear her scream my name as I slam my cock into that tight pussy, I know it’d be the temptation that opens Pandora’s Box.
“You’re right.”
Becca straightens her spine. “It’s not like you to agree so quickly.”
“Hard to argue with facts.” I offer her my hand becausefuck me, I can’t do this with her bare cunt on display.
Her suspicious gaze follows mine, and when she realizes she’s still sitting bare-assed on her desk, she slides off with as much dignity as possible and straightens her skirt.
There’s an awkward moment of silence where neither of us knows what to say. But as Owen warned, I’m the one who dragged her into my bullshit. And likesheaccused, I’m the one who taunted her into crossing her sacred, ethical lines. So, despite the risk, it has to be me who pushes her back where she belongs.
“Time’s up, Dr. Brennan,” I say coldly, the two steps of distance between us like a canyon. “I’ll see you next Tuesday.” With that, I turn and walk out, vowing to treat her with the same cruel indifference as all of my other victims.
Chapter Sixteen
BECCA
I should’ve seenthis coming weeks ago.
As a psychiatrist, it’s my job to dive beneath the surface and identify the driving force compelling my patients to make choices most would deem irrational.
Which makes it even more ironic I never recognized my own.
Johnny was right. I have Daddy issues. Instead of rebelling against everything my father represented, I allowed myself to be drawn to it. Consumed with it. Crushed by it.
There’s a word for that.
