Chapter 7

What the hell was going on? One minute, I was cursing Psalm out for being an asshole, and the next, he was picking me up and setting me down on the kitchen table. Without abandon, he snatched my scrub top over my head, and then I was on my back. The coolness of the tabletop made my body lurch forward.

Psalm snatched my bottoms down before kissing his way up from my knees to my inner thighs. As he hovered over my pussy, he lifted his eyes to mine as if to ask for permission. I raised my hips allowing him to remove the thin fabric that separated him from my sanctuary.

Without saying a word, he covered my pussy with his warm mouth. I gasped as those beautiful thick lips wrapped around my bud. As he flicked wildly against my stiffened bud, Psalm kept his eyes on me. My head dropped to the table as I relished in the pleasure he was bringing.

“Nah, don’t drop your head. Since you were so mad you didn’t want to feed a nigga, the least you can do is watch me eat.”

I came undone when he slurped my sensitive flesh between his lips. I hissed, fighting to hold eye contact with the most confusing human being to ever grace the face of the earth. I didn’t know if I should turn my head or keep looking as he feasted on me like I was his last meal.

When the pleasure became too much to stand, I let my head fall back and pushed against the top of his head. He had me nailed in place, never letting up from his meal as the warm liquid flowed from my body like a stream.

My chest heaved as I fought to catch my breath. I didn’t have time to regain my composure before he snatched me to the edge of the table and rammed his dick into me without mercy.

“Aah!” I belted as I tried to focus my eyes on his face.

When we locked eyes, the agonized expression on his face told a story of a thousand words. As he burrowed his way inside me, stretching into me to make room for his girth, he locked his arms around my thighs. My hands shot to his stomach as he backed out and drove into me again.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, zeroing in on my eyes.

“No!” I shouted a little too quickly for my own liking.

With my permission, he impaled me again, causing my back to arch off the table. His dick was rock hard, carving and etching his first and last name on my insides and erasing the memories of those who came before him. My eyebrows drew together as he drove into me over and over and over.

I had the constant urge to pull away, but it hurt so good that I stayed in place as a powerful orgasm thundered through me. His hands searched my body before locking around my throat.

“Why can’t I stop thinking about you?” he mumbled more to himself than to me.

“I don’t-I don’t know.”

“You see this shit. This is why I tried to stay the fuck away from you,” he said, frowning down at the creamy whiteness that coated the base of his dick.

His grip around my throat tightened, constricting my breathing a little more as the sounds of my wetness filled the room. Without another word, he drove into me delivering stroke after powerful stroke. My back slid up the table a little further every time our bodies collided.

“Psaaalm!” I screamed as the burning sensation flashed across my whole body ending in a mind-shattering explosion.

Keeping his eyes on mine, he continued to pound into me as he leaned forward until his forehead was against mine.

“Tell me why I can’t stop fucking thinking about you, Anya? You should have run away from my crazy ass family. I know you have to leave soon, and I feel like shit for wanting you to stay. Wanting you to stay means my brother doesn’t get better. I need you to get out of my head.”

“What if I don’t want to?” I whimpered, wrapping my fingers around his head and pulling his lips to mine.

“Don’t say that.” He warned as he backed up and continued fucking me into a stupor.

Removing one of his hands from my throat, he pressed down on my pelvis. The added pressure had my back lifting from the table and my stomach muscles tightening as my senses started to go haywire. I came undone as he strummed my clit with his thumb.

“Get out of my fucking head, Anya!”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t up to me. I couldn’t tell him that he was all I could think about too. I couldn’t do anything because everything around me went black.

I woke up in a panic. I didn’t know how long I was out or how the hell I ended up in bed. I looked around a room that wasn’t Bishop’s, trying to figure out whose T-shirt I had on and where my clothes were.

My hand moved between my thighs. The soreness was evidence that I hadn’t been dreaming. In fact, I had been sexed into a coma, cleaned with what smelled like Dove white and put to bed like an infant. I stood from the bed on wobbly legs and found my scrubs folded on the dresser across the room. They had been washed and dried. How long had I been out? Quickly, I pulled on my pants and rushed out of the room.

When I made it down the hall to Bishop’s room, Lizzie, the night nurse, was sitting on the couch, reading a book.

“Hey, girl! You feeling better?”

“Huh?”

“Before he left, Psalm said you weren’t feeling well, and he let you lay down in one of the spare bedrooms.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m feeling a lot better. What time is it?”

“Seven thirty.”

No way I had been asleep for almost two hours. I was supposed to get off thirty minutes ago. It was good to know that Psalm had covered for me, but now I was more confused than ever. He rarely left Bishop’s house when I was here. All of a sudden, he wanted to pull a disappearing act.

“I’m going to head home. See you in the morning.”