Page 77 of No Asylum Here

Curiosity ate me alive.

I lifted myself off Mal’s cock, making a lewd thwock as his still-swollen member sprang free, glistening as it bobbed.

“Alright. I’m ready for your torrent of questions, Sherlock.” There was a smile in his voice, but there was no missing the forlorn whimper he made as he watched me pad across my office.

He wasn’t ready to be done yet.

Neither was I.

I flung him a mischievous smirk as I pushed my desk chair to the place under the clock. I was wearing nothing but my cum-streaked skirt bunched around my waist, with my blouse and bra hanging open at my sides.

I had no idea how I’d walk out of here without anyone catching wise to what we’d done, but that was a problem for later.

Extending my pointer finger, I wound the hour hand counterclockwise, turning us back an hour. “What was it you said about time being weird here?”

Catching on, he chuckled. “Totally weird. Can’t be trusted.”

“Right. Looks like you still have one more hour with me.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Mal

Dig up my grave and fuck my corpse. She wanted to keep going, knowing—at least, in part—what I was about to make her do.

That’s my filthy girl.

I watched in unholy reverence as she stepped from the chair, her perfect tits bobbing with the movement. She picked up the speculum like it was a loaded gun and slid me a dubious look. “Before we use this, I have to ask, when was the first day of your last menstrual cycle?”

“Well, I bleed all the damn time, does that count?

Instead of the laugh I was going for, her face twisted, and tucked in the grooves of her expression was something that had my heart stirring with emotion. The kind I hadn't felt in decades. I'd forgotten that I was even capable of it at all.

"Don't do that," I clipped.

Her brows drew in. "Don't do what? Feel bad for everything that's happened to you? You might like pretending you don't have a heart, but I can't do that."

She'll learn. She'd have to, at least with everyone but me, if she were going to survive this place.

"Don't pity me."

"I don't. My heart breaks for you." Her throat visibly bobbed with her gulp. "I want to protect you. And I don't think I can."

The wobble in her voice and the stark conviction in her eyes had an uncomfortable pang pulling under my gut. She wanted to protect me? She was the one who needed protection. My life had been destroyed ages ago. There'd be no getting it back, and I'd made my peace with it. But now that she was here, the first kind soul to enter this strange and barbaric reality in years, I had a new purpose. New meaning.

And craziest of all, she gave me hope.

For that, I'd lay down everything for her.

“Go sit down on the couch,” I instructed, the bend to my tone telling her that I was done talking for now. She’d get answers to all her questions soon.

For a moment, I thought she'd press the matter, her mouth parting to fire off her protest, but she closed it again and walked to her office sofa with a huff.

There was something deeply stimulating about a fierce, independent woman who submitted like this. Sure, this had started as a “you scratch my back” situation. Now it was more than that. Tuesday Beckett was showing me a vulnerable side to herself, one that wasn’t a part of our arrangement. That shit was earned, and I wasn’t sure what exactly I’d done to deserve it. But fuck me if I wasn’t grateful.

“Sit down, Dr. Beckett. Spread your legs.” My voice came out gentle, catching me by surprise. The corners of my mouth lifted with the ghost of a smile. This girl was softening me up in all the right ways, and hardening me in all the others. “Show me that pretty little hole I just fucked.”

Perched on the edge of the cushions, she spread her legs in a wide stance that parted her center enough to see my cum inside.