Page 24 of Keeping Her Under
Tonight, I’m going to make her mine.
Fourteen
My body is humming with anticipation as I walk into the hospital in the morning for my shift. I only got four hours of sleep after getting back from Ryan’s, but I’m so damn awake, there’s almost a fucking skip in my step.
In less than twenty-four hours, I’m going to fuck my girl so thoroughly, she’ll know she’s mine even in her coma.
Her soul will sing for me.
My cock twitches as I near the elevators. There’s a group of people standing outside of them, waiting for it to ding, so I skirt left and take my way up the stairs. I jog up them, trying to distract myself from thinking of how good it’s going to feel when I bury my throbbing cock into her beautiful, teasing pussy.
Fuck, I need to find a bathroom...
But I don’t want to spoil the specialness of the day. I do not want to give some scrunched-up toilet paper the gift she deserves.
Breathing deeply, I force myself to calm. When that doesn’t work, I mentally go over the case files of my first patient of the day. It’s a VIP, so they’ve given her a false name. Twenty-four. Caucasian. 5’8”. 110 pounds. Coming in for hip surgery due to brittle bones caused by chronic anorexia nervosa –
I nearly stumble as my heart flutters.
AN has the highest mortality rate of any mental illness – being six times higher than other eating disorders. Anyone with it needs to be held for more monitoring in the ICU. If she’s been starving herself to keep her slim figure, then a sudden increase of nutrients could cause issues with her heart, lungs, blood, organs, and/or nervous system, potentially proving fatal.
Which means I’ll have an excuse to visit the ICU.
Maybe even see Summer before tonight.
My cock thickens, and now all I can think about is sneaking into her room during the day.
Of being smart enough not to get caught.
Of being dumb enough to risk it.
I practically have a guaranteed way of being able to see her tonight with how badly we scared Ryan, but fuck, I want to join with her now.
I want to show her she’ll never be alone again.
Reaching the door leading onto the third floor, I stop in front of it. My cock is pulsing in my pants. I can’t walk out there with it so hard and tenting. I’m nearly consumed by the urge to jerk one out right here, to play with that risk of being caught by some random passerby coming up the stairs.
I groan.
My blood rushes hot.
I skim my palm across my cock, that little brush sending shivers of pleasure through me.
But I won’t be that selfish to Summer.
I won’t put my needs above her own – not like Mother did with me every single time.
“Give me a bump, and he’s down the hall.”
That’s all I was worth to her. One fucking line of coke.
My cock jerks with more arousal, remembering how much they would touch me. Disgust hits me like the edge of a knife, slicing along my skin and making me bleed. But not as deep as a stab wound, not yet – that’ll come later when I orgasm to the memories.
I move my hand away from my cock. Anger mixes with the shame and excitement. I wish I’d taken all their names. Wish Asher and I could hunt them down one by one and make them pay for what they did to me.
What they changed in me.
What they broke and didn’t put back.
