Page 62 of Wicked Beasts
“Why?” I finally gasp.
“He’s trying to kill me.”
A sudden chill makes my body turn cold as goosebumps prickle across my skin.
I think of the body outside of Gisella’s bedroom and the way he came to comfort me. Mortimer’s insistence the man was not dead. Mrs. Wong’s assurance that Manu cleaned up the blood.
Had a murder taken place and everyone covered it up?
Soon enough, he will no longer be anyone’s problem.
I furrow my brows as I try to make sense of his words. I start to shake my head, unwilling to be swayed by Dr. Shadow’s words. He’s trying to confuse me.
“No, Tristan issick. He said you—he said this wasyourfault. He?—”
“You don’t know what kind ofsickhe is.” Dr. Shadow taps his temple. “An illness of the mind can be quite…detrimental.”
“He’s not crazy,” I say.He’s not a murderer, I think but cannot speak.
“I never said he was.” He draws closer, his imposing figure casting a shadow as dark as his name. He strokes my cheek, his fingers brushing away strands of hair. “Now, what did he say, my little rose?” he asks again. “Or do you need a little bit of convincing?”
“He would never hurt you. He loves you.”
Dr. Shadow laughs. First, it sounds like it’s amusement, then pain.
“He doesnotlove me. Hedespisesme,” he murmurs as he draws closer. One hand snakes around my waist, settling on my lower back as he pulls me closer. “I am a reflection of all the pieces of himself he hates.” His breath is hot against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. His teeth graze the shell as hisfingers trail up my leg, gentle against my skin, and slide beneath the skirt of my dress.
My body betrays me as I cave beneath his touch, knowing the pleasure I can receive from him. I yearn for it, my thighs parting just enough for his hand to slip between them and press against the heat growing between my legs. I inhale sharply, his fingers teasing me as I grip the wooden railing tightly. My face grows hot, knowing anyone can see us, could glance up and see Dr. Shadow’s hand beneath my dress, stroking me at just the right pace. My lips part as I grab his arm, fingers tightly clutching the sleeve taut over his muscles.
“Please…” I murmur as he works his fingers. He pushes aside my damp panties and strokes me just before pushing two fingers inside. A sharp gasp escapes me as his fingers plunge deep, gripping his arm tighter as I struggle to stay standing.
“Pleasewhat?” he asks.
“I…I—” I struggle to form thoughts, struggle to string together a sentence that would make any amount of sense. I can’t think as my words transform into a helpless, hungry moan. The pleasure is overwhelming, my body tensing as my toes curl. “Oh, God,” I whimper, my hips bucking involuntarily against his hand. I want him to make me come.
“Good girl,” he growls in my ear, his pace even. “Now…what did he say to you?”
“Faster,” I mutter, bucking my hips as I lean into him. “Please…”
“No,” he says, slowing his pace until he nearly stops. “Tell me, little rose.”
I whimper at his refusal, pouting as I trap his hand between my thighs and attempt to ride out my own pleasure, my arousal desperate for satisfaction. Dr. Shadow grips me by the throat and shoves me up against the railing, pushing me just far backwards enough that my balance teeters.
“I said no,” he says, his voice sensual yet commanding. “What did he say?”
“He’s the project,” I mutter. “Tristan saidhe’sthe project, and you won’t be anyone’s problem anymore. I don’t know what any of it means.Please…”
“Good girl,” he praises, his fingers pumping faster as a reward. His praise in such a sultry voice sends a wave of desire through me, my body trembling at the edges of my orgasm. He pulls me forward, no longer bent back over the railing, his grip on my throat, his dark eyes holding steady with mine. I unravel right before him.
A sharp gasp escapes my lips as I surrender to the ecstasy he so easily provides. My orgasm crashes over me, flooding my senses as I convulse around his plunging fingers and ride out the intensity. My mind remains blank, my thoughts broken and scattered. Nothing else matters but the primal lust coursing through my veins with hot desire.
He drags his tongue against his lower lip, his dark figure looming over me as he slowly slips his fingers out. “So pretty when you come undone for me.”
I struggle to catch my breath, my hands still clutching the railing as I try to regain control over my body.
“Amara?”
The sound of my name snaps through the haze of panic, and I freeze. Blood floods my cheeks, hot and swift, as I quickly straighten the skirt of my dress, hoping to erase the evidence of my weakness. Dr. Shadow's smirk lingers, dark and menacing, as he releases my throat, his fingers brushing against my skin like a warning.
