The Reaper (Eastward Prison)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER

TWELVE

HANNAH

She licked her lips and struggled into his hospital room, carrying a large hessian tote bag of things. She had bought him a book selection of current best sellers and some old classics. She had thrown in a few non-fiction titles too, as she had no idea what he would like. She doubted he read books to be honest that he would sit down long enough to read a book. But hopefully it was something that kept him distracted for a few more days. Distracted from being stuck in the hospital, Because he was obviously getting frustrated, but also she secretly hoped, distracted from remembering who he was, too. He had laughed and shrugged when she had asked him what kinds of books he wanted her to buy him too, As if he wasn’t really bothered but he appreciated the gesture. She had picked up some of her favourite books too, daydreaming that they could chat over who the characters were, whether we could tell the plot twists were coming. A day dream, she knew, of a future where they lived happily ever after.

Hannah poured them all out of the shopping bag, onto his bed. He was sitting up, on top of the bed sheets, off the side of the bed, rather than in it. He must have been feeling much better.

“The Economics of Happiness?” he read off the front cover of one of the books.

Hannah blustered busily. “Yes, it was on the top ten list, I think it won an award, or was shortlisted… or something, anyway, my friend at work had mentioned it before and said it was really interesting…”

He nodded, amused, maybe charmed by her excitement. The sourness of the other day dissipated easily and quickly.

She leaned in close to the book he held in his hand and breathed in theatrically. “Smell that lovely new book smell!” she exclaimed, pleased to be sharing her love of reading with him.

He laughed, that disarming, surprising open, honest laugh that she suspected he didn’t get the chance to do often..

She picked the top one up. “Here is a good one, I’ve read this one, it’s about a cop in South Africa-”

He barked out a laugh and rolled his eyes. “You and your crime thriller dramas, honestly!”

“What?” she replied, nonplussed.

“You love a crime drama, huh?” he quipped and pulled her close in an intimate hug then, in between his legs. With him sat up, and her stood between his legs, their bodies were closer than they had ever been so far in the hospital. She was properly in his arms now, she felt his warm chest, and his heart beating in his neck. She reached out and wrapped her arms around his back, as well she tried to resist but she couldn’t grab him or grip him, pressing him closer to her.

“You love a bad boy, is that it?” He dropped his voice to a seductive murmur, and sent it right into her ear, his breath blowing the wispy bits of hair she had tucked behind it. “I used to work with dangerous people, we think, my job was a mystery… maybe I’m on the wrong side of the law, huh?”

She gulped. She tried not to freeze, she tried to stay relaxed in his arms, truth be told it was very easy. So close to his heart, pounding next to her head, his breath on her neck. It was easy to push out the fear for now.

“Am I your bad boy, Hannah?” he muttered.

Her eyelids fluttered. Despite her underlying guilt, she felt aroused. Her heart was racing. And with it, she felt heat in her core. Yes, she wanted to say, you are. You are mine, and whether you are good or bad, you are still mine. I want you to be good, but you might be bad. But you are still my bad boy.

She hummed. He could tell she was getting aroused. He liked it. She liked that he liked it, and the vicious circle began to spiral down.

His gaze dropped to her lips, to her chest, becoming dark, hungry. “Are you my bad girl, Hannah?”

She knew he knew. She was lying and he was going along with it. And she was happy to let him. This was becoming such a twisted situation but she didn’t care because it was the most excited, the most alive she had ever felt. The most real thing. She reached for the top button on her shirt, and undid it.

“Hannah-” he began, but before he could say anything more, she undid the next button. And the next, pulling it off her shoulders, exposing herself, in her bra. White lace.

His hands came forward and cupped her breasts. Firstly, with his palms, almost lifting their weight, gentle caresses at first. Then, his thumb and finger pinched her nipple, through the material, and his fingers moved harder.

“Maybe you’re not the bad boy, maybe I’m the bad girl?” she purred. Her hands went underneath his hospital gown, too. Skimming up and down his warm, hard body. She wanted him.

“Maybe we are both bad…” He yanked off the gown as if he’d never need it again. He had the generic hospital underpants on. Her eyes devoured his chest. Yes, he still had bruises, some dark, some more yellow now, but his bare torso was still delicious.

She knew they had time before the nurse came in, but still, she was fed up with their interruptions. She thought quickly, pushing away from him, pushing her hands against his shoulders gently but firmly. She looked about the room and spotted the small, office style chair, by the table. She grabbed it, and wheeled it in front of the door, jamming the back of the chair against the handle. It would cause an obstacle for anyone trying to enter, not exactly a fool proof lock but it would do.

She came back to in between his legs, where he was almost panting, almost salivating for her. He immediately locked his lips over here, hard. She pulled at the waistband of his pants. He pulled away from kissing her, to look at her, into her face. His eyes flashed over her body, She stood with jeans and a bra on.

“I want you,” he said, thickly.

“I want you first,” she said. She put a palm on his chest and pushed lightly. He let himself fall back, onto his elbows, half reclining now on the bed. She again pawed at his waistband. He lifted his hips, so she pulled and wriggled his pants off him.

“Hannah, wait-”

“No, I want this.”

“But-”

“I want to give to you,” she said. Her hands caressed up his thighs, his cock was erect already, protruding hopefully.

He tipped his head back. “Don’t feel you have to...”

“I want to have you in my mouth,” she said simply.

He couldn’t reply. He nodded only. She bent down and put her lips to his cock. Opening up to engulf his head. She did it as if she were sucking on a lolly pop. And she loved it. He shivered and breathed out. She held the base of him and slowly glided down, her mouth engulfing more and more of him.

He muttered another swear word. She glided up, letting his cock lightly run past her teeth. She heard an impatient noise in his throat. She did that a few more times, she liked the feeling, such a silky smooth part of his body, so hard, just pure animal, barely anything human about it. She moved her hand up and down now with her mouth, squeezed a bit harder, then softer, trying to gauge what he wanted. She flicked the tip of him with her tongue. In that moment, she was right here, she was connected to him, walking right alongside him, fully present and not worrying about anything else. She wanted him to be there alongside her, too, not worrying about this stalker he’d convinced himself was out there, not worrying about his injuries or the whole situation, just in the moment, with her.

She looked up, keeping him in her mouth, sucking, looking at him. He was looking down at her with a slightly glazed look, heat in his face, in his eyes, his breathing was ragged. Yes, he was right next to her too. He was letting her lead him, fully vulnerable, trusting her to guide him and take him there.

She sped up. She heard him making a guttural sound in his throat, and felt his body shift a little as he laid back fully, his head tilted back and up. She felt his thigh muscles tense, his stomach muscles too. He put a hand onto the back of her head, into her hair, pushing, guiding her subtly at first. Then after a few strokes his hand was firmer, roughly pushing her down, pushing himself deeper into her throat. Her face was right up against his pubic hair, his erection deep in her mouth.

“Fuck Hannah, I’m coming.” His eyes rolled back into his head and muscles protruded from his neck and torso. She felt him spasm, then his hot liquid hit the back of her throat. She smiled around his wet, still hard cock. But he continued pumping in and out of her mouth, so she coughed between swallowing his liquid. Finally, he stilled.

She lifted her head. Her lips were wet, and puffy, She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. He was lying down, flat on his back now, sideways on the bed, his knees bent and his feet hanging off the end of the bed. He hadn’t moved. His eyes were closed, breathing deeply.

He groaned, the sound of a teenager being told to get up for school. He was in that dark warm pool, and he didn’t want to surface. She knew it. She’d taken him there. She felt very pleased with herself.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Christ Hannah, that was…” He shook his head, almost trying to clear the fog.

She smiled. She enjoyed having him here, shivering, at her mercy. She felt powerful and strong, in control.

Oh, she could be the bad girl alright.