Page 84 of Somno Slave

“Kiss me back,” he coos.

I don’t.

I can’t.

It’s wrong. If I allow myself another fantasy, another wet dream—then I know I’ve lost my fucking mind, and this crush will become something I’ll never be able to pull away from.

I keep my lips firmly shut, eyes closed too as if I can block him out through sheer willpower.

“Fine,” he murmurs. His hands hover just above my skin, close enough that I feel the threat of him without the relief of contact.

Then he stops deciding.

He takes me by the hips—fast, unannounced—and the sharp jolt of pain flashes clean through me before my body can catch up with what’s happened. A sound slips out of me, small and unguarded.

He catches it instantly with his mouth and his kiss is invasive in the way it erases the distance I thought I still had. It steals the air from my lungs, turning my reaction into something he can taste.

I should pull away.

My body shifts instead, chin lifting by a fraction as if I’m offering myself to him.

When his teeth catch my lower lip, it isn’t gentle. Something inside me tightens—then cracks, slow and inevitable. And I hate how easily I stop resisting, how quickly I start responding.

“That’s it, Doctor,” he whispers into me. “Give yourself up to me.”

I don’t know when he moved my legs but I’m suddenly aware they’re wrapped around him. He pushes forward and the pressure between my thighs climb higher. I can’t help myself, animal instinct takes over. I grind, and finally, my body obeys, shifting against the hardness that begs for me.

He groans, low and rough, and it does something violent to my thoughts—scattering them, breaking them apart until there’s nothing left but sensation. He shifts against me, and the movement drags through me in a way that feels dangerously precise. Like he’s found something I didn’t want him to know about. My breath stutters.

His hands are already catching at the fabric by my hips. I suck in a breath, too slow, too late, as he drags it down without hesitation.

His cups my sex without warning. The heat licks me immediately, the traitorous pleasure instantly blinding. I scream, writhing away from him, but my mind has other ideas. I somehow seem to buck my hips into his hand. He drags his fingertips to my clit that’s already swollen and too sensitive. He’s not slow tonight; he’s ravenous. He drags his finger in a sharp circle. The lines continue, growing faster until I’m panting. I feel my orgasm. Dangerously close. Traitorously fucking close.

I need more. I can’t deny it much longer.

I need my release.

And I hate myself so fucking much for it.

And then...

God, and then—

Everything stops.

I’m no longer being touched. My pleasure plummets.

The whimpers catch between my lips; I bite it back before it can betray me.

“Did you enjoy my show earlier?” He asks, eyes suddenly cold and searching, but I refuse to play whatever this game is.

His hand moves fast. It connects with my clit in a sharp slap. I scream. The pain is blinding, but the pleasure is even worse.

He’s not impressed. “Answer me, Doctor.”

“No!” I cry out. “Please, stop—”

“Do you want to cum?”