Unethical

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Maxim

“ B ack to what, doc?”

She stares at the smirk on my face, knowing damn well we aren’t “back to” anything. Walking through that door doesn’t change who I am at my core. No matter how pretty she is, she can’t break through the barrier I built to keep everyone out. She can’t make me spill my feelings, and she can’t fix the fuckery in my mind.

If she continues to press me, she’ll regret it once she hears what comes out of my mouth. I already see how she looks at me. Like she can view the evil in my heart. Joke’s on her. I have no heart. But I do have a brain, and that organ is mildly obsessed with her.

I like how she dresses. Tight black skirts that go to her knees. Black stockings that conceal her pale legs and give an air of professionalism to her outfit. Silk dress shirts peek from beneath suit jackets. She always dresses the same. She keeps a pair of bright running shoes by her desk, though. Probably to wear on her commute home instead of her dark heels.

When I walked in, I saw her twisting her pencil around her long fingers, dreading our appointment as much as I anticipated it. I managed to talk my dick down before she noticed, but the surprised dread on her face almost made me hard all over again. There’s something sexy about forcing my presence on a woman like her. Making her sit in a room with me while she squirms because she’d rather be anywhere else.

Yeah, I like that shit.

I remember the feeling I got when I looked her up online. Dr. Sarah Reeves, alumna of a prestigious college, with ten years under her belt in her own practice. In her picture, she looked so different. So prim and proper, with her dark hair parted to the side, a fake smile plastered on her face, and big brown eyes that said, I’ll analyze the fuck out of you . I liked it. I couldn’t wait to see her in person.

So I didn’t.

I followed her to and from the office for about a week before our appointment. By the time I met her, I felt like I already knew her.

She’ll never know me, though. Not more than what I let her learn. While Sarah tries to pry into my mind, my mind pries into her . It splits her body open with my thoughts. As she asks her questions, I make sure I give her enough of me to keep her engaged so I can keep fucking her in my mind, taking her on every surface in this office.

In my fantasy, she loves it, but in reality, she’d hate me and herself.

“I think that’s it for today,” Sarah says, a non-subtle hint of annoyance in her tone. Her distaste for me is clear. Even the way she crosses her legs showcases her disgust.

I offer her a sick, twisted smirk that pisses her off worse. “See you later, doc,” I say, leaning close to her as I get up.

She clutches her jacket and pulls it tighter, fully covering herself. I drink up her unease. My mere existence terrifies her. Imagine if I opened my underbelly and showed her the dark, diseased insides. I’d cover her in my blood, ruin all that beautiful, perfect skin with my tainted crimson.

Then I’d spread her legs and break her.

Ruin her.

And she’d thank me for destroying her before taking my dick again. Because that’s what’s brewing in her fucked-up little mind.

She doesn’t know it yet, but she’d love to be fucked by someone she can’t fix. To be treated like a whore by someone she can’t reach would drive her nuts, and she’d take it out on my dick. She’d fuck me harder because I’m emotionally guarded. Psychologically damaged.

Fuck, a guy can dream, can’t he?

I leave the building and head to the beater car I was able to borrow off one of the losers at the house. He doesn’t go anywhere anyway, so I may buy it off him when I get a little extra cash.

Her gaze follows me from her office window as I walk across the parking lot. I feel her stare burning through my shirt. When I turn to face her, she zips the blinds closed. She couldn’t want me less, and that only makes me want her more.

I froth over her like a rabid fucking dog salivating with obsessive need. If only she knew what she does to me. How her disgust drives me wild with madness I’m already running from.

I sit in the car and take a deep breath before unzipping my jeans and wrapping my hand around my cock. I can’t even wait until I get home to touch myself to thoughts of her.

My hand strokes my length, and I squeeze my balls to give myself the pain I need to come. I wouldn’t need to hurt myself to get off if I could just fuck her right now. She’s a bitter little vessel for me to dump my load inside, and I’d only need her mouth or her cunt.

But she’s not here. She’s hiding in her office.

I hope curiosity gets the better of her and she looks out to see me furiously jerking off to her. That would make for an interesting next session. The tempo of my hand increases as I think about teaching the doc a little something about me as I fuck her senseless.

Maybe I’ll whisper in her ear, tell her I’m a deranged killer as I empty my balls inside her. Her whimpers of pleasure will be replaced by screams of horror as I drip down her creamy thighs. By the time those words leave my lips, it’ll be too late. She’d struggle to fall asleep that night while remembering how she came on a killer’s dick, and despite what she feels, the realization that she’d do it again.

I spill my come to the thoughts of her. Pearly white pours down my hand, rolling over my skin. I smirk, get out of my car, sneak across the lot, and wipe my gift on the office doorknob. I hope she touches it when she locks up tonight. I hope her fingers glide through the sticky white substance.

Maybe she’ll be too stressed and overworked to even take more than a second to notice before she wipes it on her tight little skirt. She’s certainly too proud to ask me if I left the gift at our next session.

Either way, I hope she drives to her nice home with my come staining her skin.

I wipe the residue off on my jeans and stare at the door to the building. “Next week, doc.”