Page 21 of No Asylum Here

Someone was in my bed.

A woman lay on her side with her back to me. White sheets draped her curvaceous body, the dramatic dip of her waist perfectly framed between her hips and her bare shoulders. A halo of yellow hair splayed on my pillow. I knew that hair. I knew those curves.

She was here.

A potent surge of excitement and hunger pounded through my system.

What were the chances she was completely naked under the sheets? My dick ached with an instant erection that strained my hospital-issued sweats.

“Tuesday?”

When she didn’t respond, I prowled closer.

My lips twitched into a smirk at the soft rhythm of her breathing. Fast asleep, her cute little snore made the monster within me ravenous with hunger. Was she dreaming? A nightmare within a nightmare? Was that even possible? The logistics of this place got fucky; it was best not to dwell on it. One could drive themselves mad trying to figure out the inner workings of this place.

I would know.

Edging myself toward the bed, I pulled my white t-shirt over my head and shoved my pants to the floor. My smile dropped when I caught my reflection in the large wall mirror—the one I’d installed so I could have a good look at any guests in my bed from all angles.

My eyes were stark with malice as I took in my appearance. Even in my dreams, I had the green veins spreading over my body like a disease. They bulged and pulsated with the Treatment. The tendrils stretched down my Adonis belt and wrapped around my cock, giving it a rippled texture.

It was a good thing Tuesday was asleep. I didn’t want her to see the veins marking me as a monster. I’d rather her feel it.

Peeling back the sheets, my teeth clenched as my previous question was answered. She was completely in the buff.

Christ.

This woman was perfectly shaped, as if she’d been chiseled from marble by an ancient master sculptor. Her skin’s flawless pallor was begging for me to cover it in my marks. It was easy to imagine her skin pink with my handprints and purple with my bites.

I savored the sight of her stunning shape for as long as I could bear it before slipping onto my side next to her, my cock resting between the valley of her ass cheeks.

This was the first time I could touch her since I’d been restrained in my other dreams.

It had been ages since I’d been this close to a woman, and fuck me, she almost felt real. Her body heat, her smell, the way her nipple stiffened with my light pinch.

It wasn’t in my nature to be gentle. Not anymore. Still. If I fucked her as hard as I wanted to, in all the depraved ways I daydreamed about, she’d wake up.

“Mal.”

Her sleepy mumble had me freezing. How did she know my name?

“You’re one of Rook’s demons, aren’t you? He planted you in my brain, didn’t he?”

My low growl in her ear had her squirming, but she didn’t seem to wake. I leaned over her to try and get a look at her face, only to find it half concealed by the pillow, half by her scattered tresses.

I was so damn turned on. If she were a demon, that would be a problem for later. There was a sexy woman in my bed. I couldn’t bring myself to find two shits to rub together about the other details.

I shoved my nose between her shoulder blades, reveling in the feel of her bare flesh against my lips. No mask. Nothing to keep me from biting her this time around. Unable to resist, I nibbled on her shoulder and ran my tongue over her nape.

She squirmed, still sound asleep. There must’ve been a part of her that registered what was happening. Her hips writhed, grinding her ass against my cock, subconsciously seeking more friction.

I could hurt her. I could fuck her, then break her open to see her pretty little insides painted with my cum.

My fingers bit tightly into her hip, and a deep, swollen moan crawled from her throat.

I couldn’t hold myself back anymore.

There was a reason they kept me tied up.