“It’s not me,” I said, and tugged at the IV. “Please, take this out.”
Massimo crossed to my side and slowly drew the curtain shut, hiding us from anyone who might enter the room.
“What’s in it?” he wondered.
“Some kind of sedative. Blackwood suspects me. He was trying to question me about last night...” I panted.
“Interesting way of questioning someone,” Massimo said, and carefully withdrew the IV from my arm, letting the end drop.
A little blood ran down my arm, but the hot sensation at the injection site immediately faded. Thank God. Massimo pressed a cotton ball from the nearby instrument tray over the trail of blood, blotting it away, and then tossed it to the side.
“He gave you MDMA,” Massimo mused, sounding far more entertained than he had any right to be. He was checking my notes.
“What’s that?”
“Some people’s party drug of choice. Increased happiness, less filter... increased libido.” He set the clipboard down and ran his gaze over me. “Unfortunately, you seem to be experiencing at least one of those effects.”
“How did you know I was here?” I murmured. I toyed with the top of my sweatpants. I felt like if I didn’t touch myself again, I’d die, but Massimo was watching me. Only shame kept my hand from sliding between my legs.
“You weren’t anywhere else,” he said shortly. “We have a deal. I need you in one piece to satisfy it.”
“You were looking for me?” I asked. My fingers had crept below the waistband, and I couldn’t even bring myself to care.
“Hmm, yes. It’s becoming a habit. Whatever room I walk into around here, I’m looking for you.”
He stared down at my hand, which was now fully snaked beneath my sweats. “Are you touching yourself while speaking to me?”
I nodded and wet my lips. “Does that mean I have your protection until the end of our contract?”
“No one touches what’s meant for me,” he said slowly, and then his shadowed eyes flickered to mine. “That includes you.”
He reached out and grabbed my wrist, taking my hand away from its inept groping.
I groaned, the disappointment too much for a second.
“Wait it out. It’ll pass,” he told me, still gripping my wrist.
I shook my head. “I can’t. It hurts. I just want,needsomething, please.”
“I won’t take any of your firsts like this, drugged up and confused. I want to look in your beautiful clear eyes, little stray, when I take what you promised me.” Then he brought my hand to his nose and inhaled. My fingers felt wet still, coated with my juices.He closed his eyes as he inhaled, as though he were breathing in the finest perfume.
Heat scalded me, made so much worse by this man, a man I actually wanted.
“Please, make it stop hurting, Massimo, please,” I asked.
His mouth quirked up at the corner. “You sound so pretty when you beg. Do it again.”
I had no shame in this hot, desperate place, and so I did.
“Please, take this feeling away,” I pleaded.
He was quiet for a moment and then sighed. “I won’t take any of your firsts this way, but I don’t like to see you suffer, either. Get up,” he instructed.
I immediately complied. He unbuttoned his cassock and pushed it open. He had a black button-up shirt on with the clerical collar, and black pants.
He sank into the wide, leather armchair Blackwood had been sitting on and patted his lap.
“I won’t touch you,micetta, but you can touch me. Take what you want. What you need.”