Unethical

Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sarah

I ’m trying to avoid his eyes. I feel like I’ve been sucking on a cotton ball, and I keep excusing myself to drink from my water bottle. He notices every move I make. His eyes are like lasers, burning into my very core.

Contrasting feelings intermingle in my gut. One sends jolts between my legs and makes me tighten my thighs. The other sends warning bells to my mind.

I’m uncomfortable. I shouldn’t want to be here with him, but worse, I can’t stop the thoughts I had last night as I touched myself. I have to pull myself out of this downward spiral.

I force my focus onto my work. Even though he is my fucking work.

My job is to rip apart his psyche and put it back together. I’m supposed to mend him instead of fuck him in my mind. Or fuck him in real life. Jesus, what am I doing?

“T-tell me about your time in prison, Maxim. Did you struggle with it, or did you adapt well?” I ask.

My voice wavers at the start, but I fall into my routine, and the rest of the sentence glides from my mouth out of habit. I love delving into how they handled being incarcerated, and I like to spend quite a bit of time unpacking those feelings that come from being inside. I tend to find that those who adapt really well to prison often had the rockiest childhoods. There’s a sort of safety and comfort in the structured routine of prison. He seems like he’d be someone who would have adapted well.

“We’re still doing this, doc?” he asks.

“What? My job? Yes. I have certain requirements the court demands I fulfill regarding your treatment. Certain progress that needs to be made for them to consider it successful. This is your second-to-last session with me, and we for sure haven’t made that progress.”

“What do you need from me?” he asks, as if he cares to give it to me.

“I need you to open up. You need to stop being this hollow shell of a person.”

The hollow shell of a man who I let have sex with me. Oh god. The heavy feeling of regret punches me in the gut.

He laughs. “You don’t want me to open up. I’m a bad person. The ‘hollow shell’ you see walls off a psycho from the rest of the world.”

My mouth opens and closes. How do I even respond to this? This man admitted to being a murderer last week, and he just admitted he’s capable of doing it again. I have a moral and legal responsibility to report my findings because he’s a risk to others.

And he’s not just a risk to others.

He’s a risk to me.

“Stop telling me those things, Maxim,” I whisper, shaking my head as I battle with myself.

“You wanted me to be open and honest, and now you want me to stop?”

I sigh. “I have a legal responsibility to report?—”

“Report indecent acts?” Maxim flashes a dark grin at me. “Like fucking your client?”

“You can’t use that against me,” I say, lifting my chest, even though I know he can.

He gets to his feet and walks over to me. I don’t have a chance to stand before he’s in front of me, his hands on each armrest as he leans closer. “I can, and I will, doc. You have everything to lose. I have nothing .”

A light sweat gathers on my palms. There’s nothing scarier than a man with nothing to lose.

“Do you remember the night I left you in your bathroom?” he asks.

I swallow.

“Did you enjoy my come on your cunt the next morning?”

My cheeks flush. I woke up thinking it was my own come from playing with myself because it had mostly soaked into my skin, mixing with my slick excitement.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I lift my gaze to meet his.

His hand brushes my cheek. “Because I’m in love with you. Absolutely obsessed with you.”

My breath hitches as his lips draw closer to mine. “You can’t be.”

He smirks. “I no longer want to talk about me at these appointments. I just want to use you. Make up whatever you have to for the court, because I’m done talking.”

His lips crash into mine, and my laptop falls to the ground as he lifts me to my feet. The jolt between my legs overpowers my fear, my scruples, and my sanity.

He pushes my shoulders until I’m on my knees. He’s so strong. Too strong. He keeps one hand on my shoulder while the other unzips his jeans and frees himself. I didn’t see his cock when he had sex with me last week. I only felt the strength behind it as he stretched me. Looking at it now, I don’t know how I fit it inside me.

“Suck my dick,” he says, shoving his cock past my lips.

My red lipstick smears across the length of his cock as he pulls out before pushing deeper into my mouth. I gag when it collides with the back of my throat. He fucks my mouth until tears roll down my cheeks.

“Good fucking girl,” he says as his head drops back.

“Maxim,” I whisper as he pulls out of my mouth to let me catch my breath.

“When you say my name like that, it reminds me of how you moaned my name as you pleased yourself,” he groans.

“Wh-what?”

“I watched you before I marked your pussy. You said my name while you rubbed yourself. What were you thinking about, doc?”

“I’m not?—”

“I think you were thinking about me between your thighs. With my mouth on your little cunt, huh?”

I was. But I don’t want to tell him that.

I shake my head, and he slaps my cheek, making me whimper.

“Yes,” I say, a drop in my shoulders as I sit back on my heels. I didn’t want to give him that validation, but he’s drawing it out of me.

“Why didn’t you just ask?” he says as he grabs my arm and helps me to my feet. He lifts me and places me on the edge of my desk.

“No...” I whisper, pushing his hands away as they ride up my thighs, carrying my skirt along with them.

I could never ask him for what I’ve thought about. It’s so wrong. I’d never be able to utter those words out loud. The admission would mean I’m no longer a coerced therapist.

It means I’m an unethical one.

“Shh, doc. You want my mouth on you enough to come to it, so let me make you come.”

He drops to his knees and wraps his arms around my thighs as he pulls me toward him. The corner of the desk digs into my ass, but his tongue licks away the pain. He moves my panties aside first, enjoying the taste of my wetness before pulling the fabric aside with his teeth.

The rough motion makes goosebumps rise on my skin. His warm, soft tongue hits my slit and feels better than my mind could imagine. The tip of his tongue curls and flicks against my clit, and I have to shove my hand over my mouth to keep from moaning out loud and alerting my secretary. I’d never be able to explain why a murderous felon is eating me out on my desk, and why it’s making me moan like this.

My hand drops to his hair, and I pull him into me, burying him further. He eats me in ways I’ve never felt, like I’m his favorite meal. Better than his favorite meal. My back arches, and my chest rises.

“Maxim,” I whimper, and he strokes his dick to his name within my moan.

“Come for me,” he growls, vibrating my clit.

I grind against his face, curling my pelvis to give him better access to my clit. It’s been so long since I’ve come the way he’s made me come the last two weeks.

He’s vile.

Dangerous.

Disgustingly sinful.

He’s so good with his mouth that I can almost forget he’s a felon. A murderer. A sociopath. But at this moment, the most dangerous thing about him is his skill with my body as he forces me to come on his face.

“Good girl,” he growls, sending a flat stroke of his tongue along my entire slit and making my body lurch.

“This is so wrong.” I sigh as he stands and leans over me.

“Keep playing with me and you’ll start to realize that being wrong feels so much better than always doing what’s right, I promise you that.”

With his warm cock resting against my pussy, he kisses me, and I feel more guilt with his mouth on my lips than when his head was between my legs. He wrestles with my tongue as much as he does my morals.

He pulls away and looks down at me as he grips his cock and rubs it down my slit before pushing inside me. I moan against his shirt, burying my face in the fabric. His cock stretches me, and the familiar fullness fills me. He pushes to the hilt inside me, my clit grinding along the skin of his pelvis.

I’m so sensitive. My nerves are on fire as he rubs me with every thrust of his hips.

His hand rises and wraps around my throat, his fingertips digging into my neck. “I’m going to worship you, doc. You just need to shut your pretty mouth and let me. I’m going to make you come, fill and mark you as mine, and you’re going to fake your notes to the court so I can keep fucking you the way you won’t admit you like.”

I moan against his harsh words. I can’t admit how much I like what he does to me. I can’t admit that to anyone , including myself . He could ruin my career, take my life when he’s done with me, but as he spreads my thighs wider so he can fuck me harder and faster, I can only think of how he’s making me feel.

“Don’t come inside me,” I tell him. His thrusts have grown ragged, and I know he’s close.

He moves his hand from my neck to my chin, squeezing roughly. “I will always fill you up, because my sin becomes one with yours when I come inside you.”

He fills me with a stutter of his hips, and panic washes over me, just like the first time. Then he pulls out of me and puts my panties back in place.

“Now I want you to finish your day and sit in front of each and every client with my come dripping from you.”

And despite how wrong I know it is, I also know I’ll do exactly what he wants.