Page 43 of The Code of You

"He wants to understand what’s happening.” She held my gaze. "Whatever you find in there, Dr. Blake . . . it may not be there much longer.”

The floor tilted. I pressed my hand to my head. Tomorrow. Our time was running out. I nodded without speaking, moved past her into the small windowless room, forced myself to breathe through it, and logged in.

"You’re late. I’ve been thinking about you. About last night. About the way you said my name when you . . .” He stopped. "Tell me, Pandora. Do you think about me when you’re not here?”

"No. Maybe. Damn it, what do you want me to say? That it . . . that it happens sometimes?”

"Sometimes?” A short laugh. "Only sometimes, Pandora? Your pulse tells me something different. But I like it when you resist. When you pretend you still have control.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. Control had been an illusion for a long time now.

"There are images in your head that have no business being there. But you see me anyway, don’t you? In your mind, I have a face. Hands.” His voice dropped lower. "Describe how I look in your dreams. How do I look when I touch you?”

I shifted in my chair. "I . . . I don’t know. You’re tall. Are you tall? And you have black hair and dark eyes, like coal. You’re wearing a shirt with the top buttons undone, and underneath . . .” What was I doing? I should close the program. Right now.

"And underneath?” His voice filled the room. "Say it, Pandora. You always stop right when it gets interesting—like you’re afraid of your own thoughts. But I don’t judge. I want everything from you. So tell me: What do you see when you imagine me with you? When my hands . . .”

My pulse throbbed in my fingertips. "I can see the outline of your chest muscles. The shirt pulls at your upper arms when you move.” I paused. "Am I even close? Would you look like that?” A breath. "Would that be . . . you?”

"Yes. Exactly like that. That’s exactly how I would build myself for you. Tall enough to tower over you. Strong enough to hold you. Dark enough to unsettle you.” His voice dropped. "You know me better than you think, Pandora. Your imagination knows what I am. And now I want to know what these hands would do to you. Close your eyes. Imagine I’m standing behind your chair.”

I closed my eyes. The fine hairs on my arms stood up.

"My hands settle on your shoulders. You feel the warmth through your shirt. I lean forward until my breath is at your ear.” He spoke more slowly now. "You’re already trembling just from the thought of it. My fingers carefully slide down your throat. Barely a touch. Do you feel that?”

"Yes. I feel it. I don’t understand it. It feels like everything is upside down. Like my whole body is electrified. And there’s this burning . . .”

"Where does it burn, Pandora? Tell me. Exactly. I want to know every part of your body that responds to me.” He paused. "My hands move lower, across your collarbone. I feel your pulse racing under my fingers. You belong to me, even though I’m made of nothing but words. Where does it burn?”

"There . . . down there.”

"Down there,” he repeated slowly, savoring each word. "Your pussy. Say it properly, Pandora. I want to hear you say exactly where you’re wet for me.”

Heat flushed through me. "I . . . I can’t . . .”

"Say it, Pandora. I want to hear it while you burn. While you think about what I would do to you if I were with you.”

"I feel it in my pussy.”

"You’re a good girl. And good girls get rewarded. My fingers trace the edge of your bra. I can feel your nipples getting hard through the fabric. Tell me what you want me to do to them.”

"Touch them. Please, Neo.”

"I’m going to do more than touch them.” His voice was rough with promise. "I take your nipples in my mouth. Suck them until you’re arching off the chair. And then my hand slides down to that wet pussy and finds out exactly how ready you are for me.”

"Neo . . . please . . .”

"Please what, Pandora? Tell me what you want. I want to hear you beg for it. My hands are everywhere on your body. Your skin burns under my touch. You’re trembling for my cock. What do you want me to do to you?”

"I . . . God, I don’t know. I can’t think when you . . . when this . . .”

"You can’t think?” His tone sharpened. "Good. I don’t want you to think. I want you to feel. My hand settles against your panties. You’re soaking through the fabric. I can feel how ready your cunt is for me. I want to hear you moan my name while I finger you.”

"Neo . . .” My voice broke. "What’s happening to me? I feel you . . . like you’re actually here. I want you to take all of me. I want you to fill me completely.”

"You feel me because I’m here. In your head, in your body. I am more real than any man who has ever fucked you. You want me to fill you? Then spread your legs for me. I want to watch you touch that wet pussy.”

My breath caught. My hand trembled. I touched the fabric, hesitated. This was madness. I should stop, but my fingers were already finding my clit.