Soon you’ll obey my every command, no matter what I ask. Then I will own you.

  Her nerves endings were on fire, desperate for the taste of his lips. She wanted him. She had to have him. She…

  Remove your skirt.

  The command was not to be questioned. Destiny rose to her feet. She walked around the side, fingertips dragging across various files and papers. Obedience wasn’t her strong suit, but today she was at peace. “Yes, Sir.” When she was in front of her desk, she reached behind her, unfastening the single button. As she unzipped and pushed the tight material down her hips, the sound seemed exaggerated. The back of her neck remained damp, skin prickling with goose bumps. His scent was full of testosterone. Wiggling out of the pencil-thin skirt, she kicked it away. She should feel embarrassment, but she didn’t. She breathed in his scent and had never felt more alive.

  Good girl. Let me see your sweet pussy. Take off your thong.

  She did as was required.

  Toss them to me.

  Destiny nodded once and balled the panties, throwing them in his direction.

  He caught them with one hand, bringing the slip of lace to his face. Inhaling, a guttural sound slipped past his lips. After shoving them into his pocket, he opened his legs and leaned forward. Sit on the desk. Open your legs wide for me.

  Excitement soared. She stole a quick look toward the office door before sitting on the edge of her desk, spreading her legs and easing back onto the top of the cool wood. When she placed her elbows on the surface, various objects were pitched to the floor.

  Wider.

  She inched her butt to the edge of her desk, lifting and opening her legs.

  Beautiful pink pussy lips. You’re required to remain completely shaved. Do you understand me?

  “Yes, Sir.” She could swear he’d inched closer, but he remained stoic, completely shadowed by the diffused light.

  Tell me, sweet slut. Do you enjoy having a man suck on your clit?

  “Oh, yes, Sir.” Her mouth was dry.

  Do you want your ass opened wide, a fist buried deep inside?

  Destiny swallowed hard and hesitated until he exhaled, a sign of his displeasure. “Yes, Sir.”

  Tell me you’d like my fist in your ass, my whore.

  “I… I want nothing more than to have your fist in my ass, Sir.”

  Excellent. You’ll have everything you’ve craved your entire life. Now, play with yourself. Show me how much you desire my touch.

  His words were chilling yet she was wet with desire. Closing her eyes, she swirled the tip of her index finger around her clit, shocked as a series of tingles skittered down her spine. She threw her left hand back onto the desk, arching her back. Sweat beaded above her lip.

  Continue, he whispered, his voice reverberating throughout the room.

  She bit back a moan as she flicked her finger back and forth. Her body undulated forward as she toyed with her cunt, enjoying the sensation. After several seconds she knew she was going to come.

  Hold it for me.

  Destiny’s eyes popped open, her breath sounds strangled. She shook her head as she tried to stay the orgasm. While he was shadowed, the dim lighting only accentuating the lower half of his face, she was mesmerized by his good looks. Concentrating, she shoved three fingers inside her pussy, flexing them open as she thrust in and out. Her pussy muscles clamped over the invasion, and for a few seconds, she was unable to concentrate.

  Very nice. You have control. You’re going to learn more. Now shove your wet fingers inside your sweet asshole.

  His words echoed in the room.

  Panting, she did as she was told. A slice of pain rushed into her belly. She jerked up from the desk, beads of perspiration slithering down both sides of her face.

  That’s it. You’re going to be my little ass queen. This time his laughter floated toward the ceiling.

  “Doctor Blade?”

  You’re going to be mine, forever mine. Never forget who you belong to…

  “Doctor Blade?!”

  Destiny heard the insistent tone. Swallowing hard, she blinked several times before easing back in her chair. After a few seconds the fog slipped away. She scanned the perimeter of the room. There was no mysterious man invading her privacy or controlling her actions. Dear God, I’m losing my mind. His face, the man she hungered to find, remained in the forefront. She shook her head and glanced down at her skirt. The rumpled material had crawled up to her mid thighs. She stifled a gasp. Her panties were missing. No. This is insane.

  “Doctor? Are you alright?”

  I will taste you. I will own you and when I do, you’ll understand pure ecstasy…

  Seconds later, she shut down the fantasy. She was a strong person, capable of protecting the woman buried deep inside. She’d been damn good at doing so for almost thirty years.

  Tick. Tock.

  Glancing at the oversized, old-fashioned clock, she grimaced, unable to remember much of the conversation. A patient. She was a doctor. She was…

  He cleared his throat. Only this time, the sound was no apparition, no formidable monster, hungry to chain her in his basement, performing unspeakable acts. The man seated in front of her was desperate for help, lost in a system she claimed to understand. Go away!

  A strand of dark hair fell to his lips. He was a patient. Still, she continued to read her fantasy man’s lurid thoughts, sensing his required possession of her. Why? Why was she so special to him?

  A blip coming from her phone brought her up from the foggy haze. Biting her lower lip, she fingered her iPhone. Two messages. Okay. Break free of this. He’s not real. Sadly, no man was coming to claim her.

  She forced a smile and pushed a file across her desk, breaking the psychic connection. “I’m sorry and of course I’m just fine. What were you saying?” She wasn’t certain she’d asked the question loudly enough. As she centered her gaze past her desk, her thoughts cleared.

  The chair was planted in the middle of the room. Her patient was only comfortable if he was surrounded by air and nothing else. The poor man had fallen into an abyss. For a few seconds she thought about ending the session, but his imploring eyes and slacking mouth reminded her that she was his only hope. He was a loner. Then again, so was she. Concentrate. Her patient needed her expertise to pull them back to reality. Hell, they all did. Lately she’d felt like nothing but a farce, a woman incapable of helping anyone. Michael. You must help Michael.

  Michael’s expression was pensive. He tapped his foot as he wrung his hands. “Okay. Okay. I just thought…”

  A full minute ticked by. Destiny glanced at the clock as she pressed down her skirt. She wiggled and slipped her fingers inside her waistband. Where the fuck had her panties gone? Had she actually taken them off at some point? She patted her hand on the desk and plastered on a smile.

  “Michael, we have just a few more minutes in our session. Is there anything else you can remember about your dream?” Her professional training made certain her expression was comforting. Her patient was even more of a nervous wreck then he normally was during their typical hour-long sessions.

  Michael’s eyes shifted, his gaze unfocused. He picked lint off the sleeve of his dress shirt and hummed. The heel of his foot continually tapped against the tile floor. Every body movement exuded raw emotion, complete discomfort, yet he’d only offered four full sentences during the last fifty minutes. She adjusted her suit jacket.

  Even from where she was seated, she could easily see the sweat beading across his forehead. He reeked. His body odor was a putrid combination of garlic, stale cigarettes, urine, and vomit. She’d never seen him this anxious in the nearly two years she’d been treating him. “Michael. Stay with me. What’s going on? Why are you so distraught? Did something happen at work?” Back on track, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  He shook his head and leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands. “No.” There was zero inflection in his tone.

  “With your lovely girlfriend? Did you guys have a fight?”

  He’s lying and you know this. A demon lives inside of him. He’s being eaten alive as he should be.

  The voice filtered inside her brain. Go away. Go the fuck away. She heard him laugh. His scent remained and the combination of the two men was nauseating. She shifted again.

  Laughing, Michael shot her a quick look. “Do you really think a model is going to stay with a beast like me?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me, doc. I’m a puss sucking slug.”

  The demon rises…

  Destiny exhaled and stole another glance around the room. Her legs shaking, she rose to her feet, moving slowly to the other side of the desk. Michael certainly had his insecurities, but he’d never spoken this way. Confidence bordering to the point of pure arrogance had been a downfall his entire life, a statement he’d made on the first day. This was…unexpected. “You’re not a beast. You’re a professional with an excellent career in a well-known accounting firm. You have a better than average salary, an apartment of your own and a brand new sports car.” Through various trials and tribulations, he’d maintained a fair sense of self-worth. Most people would be jealous of the amazing attributes Michael had obtained in his life. She wanted to hate him for his pompous bullshit, but she couldn’t. She’d seen inside the man, straight to the dark side.

  We all have a dark side, especially you, darling Destiny, my good little slut. Soon you’ll learn your power, understanding my command. Listen and learn…

  Fuck you! Hissing, she willed her midnight lover back into the trenches.

  As Michael snorted, he shoved both hands through his hair. “No woman will stay with me because of who and what I am. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch!” Enraged, he shoved back in his chair with enough force the metal legs slammed against the edge of the glass coffee table.

  “Michael!”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “Okay. Just relax. You’ll love again one day.”

  “Sorry?” Michael laughed. “Wait a minute. No, I’m not.”

  “What do you mean?” The tone of his voice was decidedly different. Even the twang she’d grown to love was gone, replaced by a clipped and deeper tone.

  Snapping his head up, he grinned, his eyes sliding down the length of her body. “Not sorry at all. I prefer real women.”

  She broke into a cold sweat and gripped the edge of the desk. The expression on his face was determined, malevolent. This wasn’t the same man who’d walked into her office two years ago. Hell, he wasn’t the same on as an hour before. Michael Cavanaugh was recently divorced and with his incredible looks, could have the arm of any woman. This man was angry, bitter and horrified. Jesus Christ. He’s coming onto me. “Stay focused, Michael.”

  He wants you like all men do.

  Every muscle in her body was tense. Her tendons were rigid and her dream lover’s words echoed in her ears. Her extreme workload was creating manifestations, nothing more. She was a woman with an extraordinary imagination.

  “Oh, I am. Fuck the bitch. I can get more. Right?” Licking around his lips in an exaggerated fashion, he made a suckling sound. He winked and pulled the chair further away from the table, purposely scraping the tips across the floor. “Maybe we should talk, doc. Like we used to. Huh? Have you had any good sex lately? Do you have some thick cock servicing you every night?” His look turned into a leer. “You never told me if your pussy is shorn. Better to suck up your sweet juices.”

  “Michael. You know that’s not appropriate.” Dear God, the man was losing his mind.

  “My, my Ms. Blade. You used to love to tell me how every man you’ve ever known always wanted to tie you spread eagled, flog every inch of your tight body. I bet your skin glistens in candlelight. I can only imagine how wet you’d be as you wait for your Master to strike, inflicting every inch of your body with lashes. I bet you crave pain. Don’t you? Mmm…”

  The question lingered.

  You do crave punishment, my sweet slut. You can’t deny your desires.

  “That’s it. We’re not playing a game Michael and you can call me Dr. Blade. Do you understand?” She heard the strangled sound of her voice as fear crept in. He wasn’t merely undressing her. He wanted to devour her.

  “Dr. Blade. Of course. I meant no disrespect.”

  Destiny had grown overly concerned about him during the last three sessions, enough so she’d gone to his home just last week. Seeing the run down area had been eye opening. Darkness filled his soul. Whatever was going on in his mind, the demon was threatening to derail his entire life. This particular twist had her more than just nervous.

  You can have him if you so desire. You haven’t had a man in well over a year. Take him. Fuck him. Use him.

  Shut up. Shut up! This time Destiny bristled and scanned the perimeter of the room. She raked her nails over the top of her hand in an endless circle. Up to this point she hadn’t allowed her dreams to interfere with any aspect of her everyday life. She’d merely grabbed a glass of wine and moved in front of her computer to hide from the voice. Only after watching several videos had she ever shifted to a place of ecstasy, a single relief. You need a few days off and hours of sleep.

  “I can see inside of you. I know what you’re thinking. I know what you want.” Michael’s face held an edge.

  “We aren’t talking about this. We’re talking about you and you’re going to stop the bullshit and listen to me. Do you understand me at all, Michael?”

  The bravado in the man seemed to fade, his body slumping in the chair. Michael fisted his mouth as he shook his head several times.

  “Talk to me. Tell me who and what you think you are.”

  His fingers tore at his hair, ripping out chunks.

  “Michael. Don’t do that!” She closed the distance, bending down and placing her hand on his arm. “Just relax and talk to me. We can discuss anything, but you will talk to me.”

  Instantly he stopped his actions and lowered his head. She wasn’t even certain he was breathing. “Good. Now tell me why you think you’re so horrible.”

  Buzz…

  She cringed from the special sound on her inner office phone. There were zero interruptions allowed when she was with a patient and this was the second incident of the hour. This was the last appointment of the day, for God’s sake. Whatever seemed to be so important certainly could wait for another ten freaking minutes. “Tell me!”

  Michael shivered. “No. No!”

  Shit. Her tone was harsh. She certainly didn’t need to take out her frustrations on a man whose entire mental stability might pop without warning. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you. This has been a particularly long day.” Long? She’d been working fourteen-hour days for a solid two weeks. Her exhaustion was affecting her practice as well as her rational mind.

  “I deserved to have her leave me. I’m a failure in every manner. I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. You’re an important doctor and I’m just a worthless piece of trash that deserves to be beaten and left in a bloody heap. I’m nothing but scum. I deserve to die. Die. Die!”

  Shocked by his overt words, she reared back, releasing the hold. He looked up at her, his turquoise blue eyes clouded over by tears. “Don’t you ever say something like that again to me. Ever. Do you understand? You’re a very special man.” Or at least he had been. Her thoughts drifted to the first time he’d come into her office. Yes, he’d been agitated, unsure of what he called evil lurking inside of him, but he’d come across as highly intelligent and cohesive. For the initial nine months of consultation, his discussion on sexuality and his desire for the darker side of sadism had been open and honest. The verve in which he’d enlightened her about his growing needs after having spent time with a Domme remained fascinating.

  The sexual overtones hadn’t bothered her during any of the early sessions. She was a licensed sex therapist and a highly respected psychiatrist. During her tenure she’d heard just about every aspect of kinky desires and intense hungers. Men and women harbored needs she’d never explored herself, but little remained shocking. Until Michael. Today her skin crawled. The man had two distinct sides.

  So do you…

  She shivered as the words, his words, lingered in the back of her mind. Now, her patient’s mind was splitting apart. She sensed a connection, as if her mystery sadist was controlling Michael’s behavior.

  After missing one week of their sessions, something had changed drastically. Michael had become distant, withdrawn, and for the last month his personality becoming almost unrecognizable. What little she’d been able to glean during their concentrated visits had revolved around the evil Michael was terrified of, but of what, she wasn’t certain she’d find out.

  “Yes, doctor.”

  Destiny had come to the realization her skillset as a doctor of psychiatry had little or no bearing on Michael’s private hell.

  Tap. Tap.

  Hissing, she closed her eyes. Maybe she needed a break, just to get away from her reeling mind. “I’ll be right back. Please relax and try and focus on the wonderful aspects of your life. Then for our last five minutes we’re going to discuss increasing your self-worth.”

  “You see I’ve done things. Bad things.”

  Another shiver trickled down her spine. “What things?”

  “I’m going to burn in Hell.” Michael’s voice had a giddy lilt.

  Turning slightly, she looked at his face and for the first time was afraid of the rather demur man sitting in front of her. She swallowed hard and offered a fake smile. “We’ll talk when I return. Okay?”

  “Indeed. I know you crave learning every detail, no matter how gory or explicit. Don’t you, doctor?”

  Every hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She clenched her fists as she walked toward her office door, moving out into the hallway and taking a few seconds to gather her wits. Michael’s words weren’t just haunting. They were telling. “Gina, you know better than to interrupt me while I’m with a patient.”