AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Which left us at a dead-end for the time being.
It was the reason I’ve been sleeping alone at night, as well. So his presence wouldn’t derail the process. So I had time to get used to our lives together without him being there twenty-four-seven.
So my soul would learn to love him.
Because my mind couldn’t get over the fact that what we had was wrong. While in a trance, my mind told me Marcus was dangerous. In my waking hours, I couldn’t stop thinking he was a psycho. That I’m a psycho for loving him. But I loved him regardless.
I. Loved. Him.
That’s why I let him creep outside our bedroom and spend the night in the study, on the therapy couch. It crushed my soul, and yet he convinced me it’s for the best.
He’s a psycho. He’s a soft and cruel and tenacious madman. His insanity bleeds into everything he does. Into every second of our every day.
It’s infectious. My job ceases to matter while I’m here with him. He emails my parents every day, reassuring them I’m doing great on my vacation. And I’m okay with it.
I hate that I do.
Doesn’t matter, though. I trust him.
“Where’d your mind just go?” Marcus strokes my hair.
We’re lying on the bed, tucked under the covers. He’s on his back, and I curl into his chest, my leg sprawled over his large ones.
I’m comfy in a white jersey dress that reaches down to my ankles and nothing else. He’s in his therapist attire. The expensive material of his gray slacks is smooth beneath me. When my hand runs over his white button-down, I feel the ridges of his abs. All eight of them.
We’re not lazing around, despite what it looks like. Per our morning routine schedule, ten in the morning is cuddling time.
Before that, he brought me coffee and breakfast at eight, then followed me to the bathroom. A quarter to nine is the time to walk around and stretch my limbs. Nine-fifteen is when we shower together—his second for the day—and my branded butt plug goes in next.
And now is his time to pacify me. Marcus’s soft side makes an appearance at ten. It’s the side that’s responsible for soothing me, for lowering my guard before our sessions.
He’s preparing me for the coming mind invasion.
“I was thinking about our sessions.” My bottom lip juts out, a sign of my disappointment in myself.
“Okay.” Marcus leans in to nip the pouty lip. Another sweet gesture that has me smiling. “Talk to me, plaything. What’s bothering you?”
My chest deflates. Marcus’s supportive gaze encourages me to open up, regardless. It always does.
“I’m…” Since he forbids me to use the word failing, I opt for others. “I’m not making progress. What if I’m broken?”
“Don’t ever say that.” His expression darkens. A storm brews behind his black eyes. “Call me a psycho all you want. Hate yourself for our shared depravity. But don’t ever say your soul is broken. It’s not. Your mind isn’t, either. You’re a beautiful enigma. Our happy ending—”
A cloud of self-hatred hovers over me in an instant. “Our sick one.”
Marcus grinds his teeth. His jaw tics. He’s done being nice; I can read the signs by now. I can read them very, very well.
“I see the softer approach isn’t working for us.” He’s out of the bed, gripping my waist and pulling me to him without a shred of effort. “Want to know what’s sick, Leigh?”
The part of me that’s still refusing to embrace our situation rebels against him. My fingers clutch onto the sheets, my heels digging into the bed.
“Look at you, begging for punishment.” Marcus shakes his head. “And I haven’t even started yet.”
“I don’t want to know what’s sick,” I shriek as he throws me over his shoulder. I kick and punch him. My voice cracks, when I admit, “I’m scared I’ll hate you if I do.”
“You might. Temporarily. Then you’ll love me.” The conviction in his voice does an annoyingly good job. He’s draining my fight out of me. “You don’t need me to tell you that.”
I clutch at his dress shirt, rumpling it. “Tell me.”
