Page 54 of No Asylum Here

"Number one? What else—ahg."

He shoved the needle into my vein as his only answer.

My muscles relaxed, and I lay limp as a doll on the gurney. At Mal's complete mercy. Were it Dr. Rook Senior, this would be an entirely different sort of nightmare. But this? I was enjoying this. If he hurt me, I'd feel it all, yes. But I'd wake up. I reveled in that fact, because I’d never had an aversion to pain. Especially if Mal was the one administering it.

The doctor shoved his thumb in the waistband of his surgical scrubs and pulled it down, his thick cock springing free.

"Are you ready for your second injection, Dr. Beckett?”

My heart ricocheted off my ribs as I lifted my head to get a good look at his cock.

Dark green, almost black veins enveloped the entirety of his shaft. And it was huge. There was no way it could be that big in real life, or that veiny.

I waited for him to take what he wanted, since that was the game. When he didn't budge, I realized he was waiting for my go-ahead.

I nodded. "Yes... I'm ready, Doctor," I said, my voice coming out muffled from the mask.

"Ask for it, then."

I blinked. "P–please?"

"You can do better than that."

"Please, fuck me, Doctor. I'm ready for my injection, Doctor. P–please. I need it."

To my disappointment, he pulled his hand away from his pants and shook his head with a cruel laugh. "No, I don't think you are. Let's wait to give it to you when we're awake. It will be more effective that way."

"You asshole!"

He walked around from the foot of the gurney to stand directly beside me and leaned down to brush his lips against the column of my throat. I moaned at the contact, craving more. His mouth felt so good. "But I will kiss your lips. Since I'm not sure when I'll be able to when we wake. That damn muzzle my father makes me wear⁠—”

"Kiss me. Please." I tried to nod, but the drug was already taking effect.

I waited for him to lift the mask. Instead, he turned and strode to his previous position at my spread legs. When he stooped between the cradle of my thighs, I realized what set of lips to which he was referring.

My heart kicked up at the sight of him framed between my legs, and he chuckled, his tongue running across my inner thigh. "I may be a known biter, but I've never actually eaten any part of my victims. I might make an exception for you, Dr. Beckett. You're fucking delicious."

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tuesday

I closed my eyes, my head in a whirl as Mal’s fever-hot breath fanned over my exposed center, making me viscerally aware of the scalpel still sitting inside me.

He radiated sex and violence. The handsome bastard wore sin well.

Were I awake, I would overanalyze my growing attraction to my dangerous patient, to the point where I’d pull the fun out of it. But here, logic didn't matter. I might as well focus on the one thing that felt right, even if it didn’t make sense—Mal. So I relaxed and allowed the drug to take hold of me, surrendering to him completely.

His split tongue licked over my flesh, each tip spreading my folds so he could get a good look at my opening. Then, with the scalpel still seated inside me, both parts of his monstrous tongue wriggled inside and curled around the scalpel's metal, stretching me wider.

When he pulled back, the sensation had me so wet that a pool of my arousal gathered beneath me. He pushed back in, waiting a moment while I adjusted, before pulling out again.

Fucking hell. This crazy bastard had made a makeshift dildo with his split tongue and a scalpel. Slowly, he began to fuck me with it, wrapping his hands around my knees for purchase when his pace accelerated.

This was by far the wildest, most visceral dream I'd ever experienced.

I didn't want it to end.

The twisted pleasure was too good, and the fucked-up scenario had me hurtling toward climax fast and hard.