Her attempts to escape stilled, quashed on a tidal wave of agonized bliss. Selma howled, arching up from the sofa as her doctor rubbed savagely at her clit. The darkness seemed to close in from all sides, but she was beyond caring.
“Come for me, Selma!” he commanded again, pressing his free hand against her forehead to push her down into the couch. Pain seared where he touched her, but it was brief and quickly swallowed by the torment he was inflicting on her sex.
Squeezing her eyes shut and closing out anything but the burning sensation of pain and ecstasy, she finally obeyed, screaming in agonized surrender as her body seized.
Marathin’s thick fingers penetrated her weeping core, pushing her over the edge. He fucked her in rhythm with her cramping orgasm until her torment was forgotten and all she knew was ecstasy.
5
Selma
Selma’s breathing was slow to calm. Echoes of too many sensations still sang in her blood, and her clit still trembled from the pained orgasm. The ring was no longer too tight, but its heavy presence was undeniable. It didn’t hurt, but it was there, its grasp firm and inescapable.
She lay in silence while Marathin pulled his fingers from her wet sex, post-orgasmic peace washing away the memory of that voice screaming at her to flee. It seemed like nothing but a dream now. A nightmare.
“How long before I can take it off?” she rasped, voice still raw from shrieking.
“Does it hurt?”
“No. It’s just…”
“I know.” He stroked his warm hand soothingly up her thigh as he got to his feet. “I’m afraid it’ll have to remain in place, if you want your delusions to stay gone.”
Selma removed her gaze from the ceiling then, lips halfway parted in protest, but when her eyes landed on Marathin, the words died on her tongue.
His black hair was horn-free and his eyes were deep amber. There were no flames, and no pointy ears. How was that even... possible?
She reached up, and he obligingly bent his head so she could stroke through the glossy strands. No bumps met her fingers, just soft, silken hair.
“You...” The implication slowly set in as he straightened back up, his now-human eyes evaluating her like any doctor would after a treatment.
“You cured me?” She couldn’t quite make it into a statement, her voice rising questioningly toward the end. A lump she hadn’t been aware of was building in her throat and made her swallow thickly, attempting to press back the tears building in her eyes. She was free. She was finally free.
“It is not a full cure, Selma.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “You need to take good care of yourself and maintain your hormonal balance—eat well, take the vitamins I’ll give you, do some yoga for stress relief. It’s all about management now, but yes; you should no longer see monsters.”
There was nothing she could say, and nothing she could ever do to repay this man. Her tears spilled as she clutched at his hand, all resentment forgiven.
“Thank you, doctor. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
The exhaustion following her treatment was bone-deep and lasted the rest of the day. If it wasn’t for the nurses’ kind, but strict insistence that she get up to eat and stretch her legs, she’d have happily stayed in bed.
Dr. Hershey—Marathin—had told her she was to remain at Ravenswood House for ten more days. She would see him every day to check on her continued progress and spend the rest of her time relaxing and getting into a routine of meditation, yoga, and regular meals.
Selma fought back a blush as she walked to the small en-suite attached to her room to get ready for bed. Considering how much she’d dreaded seeing the doctor that first time, she had a distinct lack of reluctance now.
He’d been more than kind after the treatment, helping her to her room and praising her for how well she’d responded. And since she no longer saw a monster when looking at him, it had been hard not to feel a little flutter in her stomach as he gave her hands a final squeeze, wished her a good night, and told her not to hesitate to call on him.
Not that there was any real chance of him dating his patients—not even the ones he’d gotten to know as intimately as he had her.
She smiled as she cranked the shower on and got out of her white pajamas while waiting for the water to heat. How many of his patients had developed a crush on him? She was willing to bet the number was high, even if their treatment didn’t consist of spine-shatteringly powerful orgasms, what with his handsome—and hornless—looks and kind mannerisms. Add to it that he saved minds for a living...
Selma sighed softly, stepping into the shower. She was well-aware that her sudden onset of interest had everything to do with the fact that he was the one to make her hallucinations go away and nothing to do with actual emotions.
However, as the hot spray from the shower worked on loosening her muscles, she found her thoughts wandering back to that room and how good it had felt as he prepared her for the ring. She gingerly rubbed her slick folds, careful not to press too hard on her still-tender clit, and leaned against the wet tiles while breathing deeply, letting her climax build.
Hazy thoughts of what it would’ve been like if he’d crossed the boundary from doctor to lover ran through her mind. Her hips jerked in response, and she had to keep them pressed against the wall to not over-agitate her ringed clit as her pussy clenched, bringing her over the edge with a whimper.
Panting, Selma rested her head against the tiles. She’d probably have to figure out a way to explain the ring to future lovers, but… she might actually be able to have a true relationship now, one where she wouldn’t have to worry that her condition would drive them away. She might even be a mom one day.
