Sociopath

Ha.

By the time lunch rolls around, I've learned the true meaning of blue balls. I used to be so good at keeping myself controlled, and yeah, it got difficult sometimes...but it was never like this. My playmate is just down the hall, no doubt meeting with her designers and testing her prototypes; swanning around like everything is normal, like she's normal, like she's not nursing my beautiful, batshit crazy handiwork beneath those sleek clothes. I'm bringing you here to simplify things, I told Leo when I moved SilentWitn3ss to my building, but I never considered how hard I was making things for myself. How the fuck am I meant to work in this state? And why do they call it blue balls, anyway? Why isn't it just called I WANT TO DIE? I'm near enough doubled over here.

Finally, a knock sounds on my door, and Leo slips in carrying a tray of sandwiches and juice. For a moment, I sit back in my chair and pretend she's a waitress in a mythical but very-much-worth-exploring restaurant where you get to bang your server for dessert.

"Has your morning gone as slowly as mine?" I ask as she deposits the tray beside my corner couch. Then I ease back in my chair, giving her space to sit on my desk.

"It started at about five a.m. when the reporters woke me up." She feigns a glare; I can tell, in a way, that she's enjoying all the attention. There's something of a split personality about Leo—half is disgusted with the world and everything in it, but the other half, the little girl...she's in awe.

As I get to my feet and stand over her, my fists flexing at my sides, that little girl is never more visible. She peers up, sucking at me with her black button eyes. I trace down her cheekbone and push my thumb across her glossed lips. Mess them up like she's been naughty. Every inch of my body feels stretched tight—my cock toward her, my gaze bolted to the tilt of her chin, my skin flayed out to melt on hers.

"Did you miss me?" she asks.

"Very much." I walk my fingers back to fist her loose hair, and she tilts with them, her eyes closed rapture. White teeth sink down into her bottom lip.

Leo breathes in and out real slow, her head back as she revels in my touch. "You ever think we're like a cut? We split apart, go our separate ways, but then both sides of the wound keep trying to knit back together."

"Smart mouth," I manage, before falling into a crush of a kiss that I don't even remember initiating.

The world snaps shut. Her taste, her mouth; we're swimming in dark oil. I'm vaguely aware that my cell is ringing, which is unusual at this time of day. Not that I give a fuck.

"Should you answer that?" she says against my shirt collar. Her breath warms the valley between the fabric and my flesh.

"No."

"Oh. Good." Her soft, warm tongue makes its way up my throat. "You want lunch?"

I drag her hand down over my cock. It twitches right into her palm, throbbing and pulsing and making me feel nauseous. "Sweetheart." I haven't fucked her in the office—was trying to avoid it, in case I get carried away—but screw that.

A soft, satisfied mewl spills from her mouth. She clutches me between her finger and thumb, as if making sure I measure up. "Hmm. You want to see your pretty picture?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." There's a heaviness to my voice that I don't recognise. Desire and obsession contort it, taking it down to the edge of sin.

Leo releases me and turns to bend over the desk. I practically limp to my bag for the medikit; in the front pocket, my cell flashes with a missed call from Tommy Chavez. He knows to email me. He's an idiot.

While she waits, Leo steps out of her heels; she's more on my level without them, her ass positioned perfectly beneath my hands. I peel up the skirt of her black dress, holding my breath as her panties come into view: pale silver lace against tan skin. Gorgeous. She's wearing them rolled down a little at the hip so they don't disturb the gauze dressing—I swear, if there's a bright side in my life, it's right under there. I pull her panties down regardless of the fact that I don't actually need to—I love how obscene they look bunched around her thighs.

When I start to peel the tape away, she whimpers.

"Shh." I stroke her other buttock, caress it in smooth circles. "I won't be long. Just hold still." And she does. She obeys me.

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