I ram myself into her a few more times, feeling my cum spill inside her, claiming her for the thousandth time. I groan at the force of my release, making me loosen my grip on her wrists for a moment too long. She frees herself and brings her hands back into my hair, tugging hard.
I pull my cock out, slick with both my cum and hers, our breaths flowing together as I stare her down.
“Don’t move. Stay just like that,” I say, pushing myself away from her body.
She looks at me, confused, but she does as I say, her body spread out on the bed like a butterfly. I kneel in front of her cunt, loving the way it glistens in the moonlight with the residue of my claim on her.
“What is it?” she asks.
I don’t fail to notice the worry in her voice. As if she still fears I could change my mind about her. I stay quiet, tracing the lines of her pussy with my mind’s eye.
“What is it? Did something happen—”
There.
I bring both hands on either side of her pussy, spreading it more.
My cum slides out of her in gentle waves, dripping down to her ass. She gives me a few little whimpers at the sensation, her cunt pulsing through the coating as if it’s trying to pull it back inside.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Present Day
One second. I turned my back for just one fucking second, and they took her from me.
Like a demon fresh out of the gates of hell, I haunt these empty hospital halls, looking for her. But with every door I slam open and every corner I turn, my blood only boils stronger and my rage simmers under my flesh and bones.
She’s not here. Not anymore.
I slam my palm on the receptionist’s desk, heart pounding against my ribcage, threatening to break bone. Her eyes snap to mine as she jolts upright, followed by a deep frown.
“Security cameras from this floor. Show them to me. Or lose your fucking job.”
I didn’t work my way up to this position to scare civilians into doing what I want. But at this moment, nothing else matters. Nothing except finding the soon-to-be-dead bastard who took what’s mine.
A few seconds pass—too fucking many—before she slides her chair over to the computer and starts looking for what I need. I rush around the desk, eyes shifting rapidly across the screen, searching for her.
Where are you, angel?
“Stop,” I tell the receptionist, pointing my finger at the screen. “Right there. Who the fuck is that?”
She leans in closer, narrowing her eyes at the video in which a man is walking toward the waiting area, where Dove and I were talking just minutes ago. A sharp pain tugs at my heart even saying her name in my mind. My fingers itch to touch her, tohold her in my arms like I did before I brought her here so she could see her dying mother.
“I’m not sure,” she says. “A doctor, but I’ve never seen him before. Could be a replacement.”
I step back, dragging a hand down my face as the realization dawns on me.
They got me.
After all this time, after all the efforts at being one step ahead, the EFW got me when I least expected it. Probably orchestrated it all while they distracted me with things I could never account for. Dove’s apartment break-ins. Her mother’s accident. The distressing news I got on the phone just now. And this fake-ass doctor pretending to be someone he’s not.
“Should I keep going then?” the receptionist asks, visibly annoyed. Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Yes. Follow him around. Show me where he went. Show me where he is right fucking now.”
She clicks around with her mouse until her head shakes and she turns to meet my eyes.
“This is where the recording cuts off.”
