Page 44 of Wicked Beasts
“Dr. Shadow is here,” I murmur, my voice barely a whisper, as though speaking his name aloud might make him vanish.
Gisella looks up at me, her brows knitting in confusion. She glances around, trying to follow my gaze. “Where?” she asks, her eyes scanning the crowd, a hint of skepticism in her tone. “I don’t see him.”
I nod, my finger trembling slightly as I point to where I saw him standing. “He’s just—there,” I say, but the space where he stood is now empty, swallowed by the moving sea of people.
My heart skips.
I turn quickly, my eyes darting across the crowd, searching for any sign of him. The faces around me blur, the laughter and chatter fading into the background as my focus narrows. But no matter how hard I look, I can’t find him. The space where he stood now feels eerily vacant, like a shadow never meant to be seen in the first place.
The speakers crackle to life, announcing Ikaika’s name and calling him to the stage. He offers a few kind words as he pulls away, his smile warm but fleeting.
“I am really glad you came,” he says in reassurance, his voice low and sincere. His fingers gently brush against my sleeve before he disappears into the sea of people, cutting a path through the crowd with ease.
I watch him go then reluctantly shift my gaze, scanning the people one last time for that familiar, lecherous face. The search is fruitless—he’s gone. For a moment, my mind lingers, but then I shake it off. I don’t have time for this, for distractions. Tonight is about enjoying myself, about finding some release from the heavy weight of everything else.
Dr. Shadow can’t be allowed to intrude on my thoughts—not tonight. I have to stay present in this moment. I need to have fun for once.
Thirty-Eight
The evening unfolds like something out of a dream, far more enchanting than I’d expected. Laughter, music, and the energy of the crowd still swirl in my head as we make our way back to the manor. Yet, by the time we arrive at the foot of its beautiful darkness, my body feels weighted, drained by the night’s revelry.
Once in the comfort of my own bedroom, too weary to bother with pajamas, I shed my clothes in a quick, unthinking motion and crawl into bed, only the cool sheets and the soft chill of the night air against my bare skin to keep me company. My body sinks into the mattress, a quiet relief flooding over me, but the hum of the night lingers just behind my eyes, refusing to let go.
Hours slip by, the world outside my window silent but for the eerie scrape of the tree's branches against the glass. A soft turn of my doorknob stirs me from my half-sleep, and I blink into the darkness. I silently curse myself for forgetting to lock my door.
Had I truly forgotten?
A shadow crosses the threshold, and the door clicks shut with a sound that feels too deliberate. He stands there for a moment, his presence heavy in the stillness, as if lingering in the space between us, studying the quiet rise and fall of my breath.My pulse quickens, though I don’t move, my eyes searching the darkness for a shape I know too well.
Dr. Shadow.
He moves toward the bed, his fingers trailing lightly over the silk of the sheets. I sit up slowly, instinctively drawing the fabric closer, clutching it to my bare chest, as if to shield myself from both the cold and the weight of his primal gaze.
“I heard you had a little fun this evening,” he whispers, his voice low and laced with a quiet seduction. Yet beneath it, there's something darker, a note of challenge, as if he's watching for my reaction, waiting for me to slip—searching for some crack in my composure to exploit.
“Were you there?” I ask, my voice barely steady, a tremor I can’t quite hide betraying the rush of heat that flares between my thighs, a sensation I desperately try to suppress.
A devilish smirk darkens his face as he sits on my bed beside me. He tugs the sheet from my grasp, exposing me to the cold air. He keeps his sharp gaze fixated on my face for a moment longer, waiting for me to move, to cover myself back up.
“Did you want me to be?” Those captivating and sharp amber eyes travel down the front of my body, his hand moving to brush against the curve of my breast. My breath hitches as his thumb grazes my nipple.
“I…”
He shifts his weight as he draws in, like a predator seeking prey. His lips find my throat as his coarse hands gently travel down my body until he forcibly shoves my thighs apart. I can feel my body betraying me, aching for his touch as he presses his fingers possessively through the fabric of my panties without hesitation. He starts to rub slow, deliberate circles over the right spot, applying just enough pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting through my veins without entirely pushing me over the edge. My hips buck involuntarily as my hands grip the sheets.Dr. Shadow shifts to cover my body with his, pressing my thighs back with his weight as his fingers tug my panties to the side.
“You’re so wet,” he teases, his breath hot against my neck, coating his fingers in my arousal as he continues with his intoxicating touch, my body yielding and tensing, pleading for more. My cheeks flush, hot with embarrassment as a moan escapes my parted lips. He grazes his teeth against my throat just as he pulls back. Dr. Shadow slips his fingers out from beneath my panties and drags them against my bottom lip and down my chin, marking me. “I have a surprise for you,” he says, his eyes dropping to my mouth, glistening with my desire, his thumb smearing the coat on my lower lip as the doorknob twists.
He shifts to lay beside me as I try to reach to cover myself with the sheets, but he stops me, tearing it from my grasp.
“Don’t be shy,” he murmurs, his eyes flickering toward the door.
And then, I see him.
Tristan.
My eyes widen as I reach for the sheet again and shuffle away from Dr. Shadow, but he holds me down. Tristan shuts the door behind him.
“I know you think about it,” Dr. Shadow’s low murmur teases in my ear as Tristan’s eyes wander over the nakedness of my body. “Let him pleasure you while you pleasure me.”
