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“Perfect, slut,” I praise her softly, “Just like that.”
She looks so fucking beautiful with my cock in her mouth and tears streaming down her face.
“You don’t have to suck, don’t do anything, just hold it there for a moment.”
Her eyes flutter closed at my instructions, and she does exactly as I say. I stroke my hand down her cheek, murmuring soft praises to her as I do.
“Good girl, such a good little slut. Get my cock nice and warm for me. You’re so fucking good at that, my little slut. I’m so proud of you.”
With every syllable of praise that falls from my lips, she shakes a little less and slowly comes back, calmer, more centred. When she starts to suck me, I pray to gods I don’t believe in to remain stock-still and to give me the strength needed not to jerk my hips forward to fuck her mouth. This isn’t about me. This is about her.
I’ve only ever known two ways to bring someone out of shock, immense pain or…this. I don’t know why it works, but the gentle praise and redirection of her attention onto another task, seems to be working. Besides, she’s had enough pain within the four walls of the asylum to last a lifetime, I think. I can’t add to that anymore.
My gaze falls to the burn on her arm just as she starts to suck me in earnest.
“Kayla, stop,” I tell her gently. When she ignores me, I carefully clasp her chin in my hand and tell her, “Eyes on me, Kayla.”
It takes a couple of repeats of my request until she hears me, and when she does, I can see that the blind panic in her gaze has given way to something much more powerful: desire.
“You’re okay now, you can stop.”
She sucks me harder, a flash of defiance lighting up her big green eyes. I bite back a smile, glad to have her back.
“Enough now, slut,” I tell her gently, releasing her chin to stroke her face once more. “You’re back. We’re done here.”
She releases my cock from her lips with a soft pop and pouts. “What if I didn’t want to stop?”
“The water’s turning cold,” I tell her, though I have no idea if that’s true or not, I’m so wrapped up in her. “Let’s get you dried and dressed.”
“You’re wet too.”
“And you’re the priority, come on.” Not giving her a chance to protest, I scoop her into my arms and cradle her against my bare chest. My sweatpants are still around my thighs, but so long as they don’t fall and trip us up, it’ll be fine.
I carry her out to the changing area, wrap her in a towel, then use another one to dry off her hair, before shrugging off the wet sweatpants and wrapping my own towel around my waist.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly when she doesn’t move.
“Y-yeah. Thank you.”
“Please don’t thank me.” I grimace painfully at the stab of guilt in my gut. “I’m the problem not the cure.”
“It doesn’t matter. You helped me when I needed it most. Thank you.”
I nod, because I still feel bad, but I don’t want to upset her by arguing with her, and hunt in the other lockers for more spare clothes. I find a T-shirt that’s probably Honey’s and pass it to her, and I find some more joggers and a shirt that belong to Bones and pull those on myself.
Once we’re both dressed and ready, we head back out to face our next fear but Kayla freezes as soon as the water comes back into view.
“I can’t do this,” she whispers.
“You can.”
“You knew my fear before today, didn’t you?” she asks in a whisper.
Feeling guilty, I swallow. “Seytan told me. She wanted you put in your place.“
“And the other thing you did…did she tell you to do that too?”
I grimace. I don’t want to have this conversation. Especially not when we’re all locked up together with no chance of escape. Would I have willingly sexually assaulted her if Seytan hadn’t ordered me to? No, I wouldn’t. I’m a monster, not an animal. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy myself, in a sick and twisted sort of way.
