Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
“Good. You can sit up.”
She pulled the gown closed and awkwardly sat up.
He removed a tongue depressor from the jar on the counter and held it up. “Open wide.”
Her jaw unclenched as her lips slightly parted.
“Wider,” he said slowly, dragging out the word.
She stretched her jaw.
“Wider,” he repeated in the same teasing tone, pressing the flat wooden stick onto her tongue. He lifted a small light to look inside her mouth. “Say Ah.”
“Ahhh.”
“Good girl.” He set down the light and examined her glands, pressing his fingers to the sides of her throat, then finishing with a soft stroke down her larynx. “Stick out your tongue for me.” He made a small purr of praise, cupping her jaw and tilting her head back. “Is that a new filling I see?”
“Uh-hu—gnhg—”
“You don’t like that?” he laughed, withdrawing his finger from her mouth.
She frowned, certain it wasn’t normal for a doctor to stick his fingers in a patient’s mouth without warning.
He made a note in her file. “You have an overactive gag reflex. Nothing that’s a concern, just something to note.”
The blood rushed from her face as she thought about why that information might be relevant in her file.
He turned and cocked his head. His presence became a unique sort of violation, his stare all too penetrating. His unnaturally blue eyes dilated, and her spine rounded, her shoulders lifting to her ears.
He returned to the table. “I just need to examine your lymph nodes for any swelling, and then you can be on your way.” When he reached for her gown, her hands tightened into fists, holding it closed. “We talked about this, Daisy. I can’t send you off until you’ve completed the examination.”
“I thought…”
“The female body is a complex study.” He pried open her fingers and parted the gown. He lifted her right arm and gently probed the tender tissue beneath it. “Knees open.”
Her feet dangled off the edge of the table, no longer in the stirrups. He guided them wider, so he could stand between her thighs, his fingers squeezing experimentally as they worked closer to her pelvis.
“There’s no need to be tense,” he murmured, voice low. “I’ve done this hundreds of times.” He pressed over the glands by her groin. “Look at me.”
She did so without understanding why. “Doctor—”
“Shh… We’re almost done.” He dragged his knuckle over the soft patch of hair. “Keep your eyes on me.”
Her knees reflexively tried to lock, but his hips blocked her from closing her legs, inadvertently touching him.
The corner of his mouth hooked into a grin. “You’re okay.”
“I…” She shook her head as words locked in her throat.
“No penetration,” he whispered, massaging around her sex.
Her body betrayed her, slickening in ways she couldn’t control. Clenching. Pulsing. She squeezed her eyes shut in mortification.
“Your body responds naturally, Daisy. There’s no reason to feel ashamed of that.” His finger curled inside, and she gasped. Her hips jerked involuntarily. “Shh, shh, shh, shh. Why don’t you make it easier and lie back?”
A sound escaped her throat—not a word, not a scream, just a small broken noise as he once more eased her down on the paper cloth. His finger swirled and dipped, drawing the wet proof of her arousal out to moisten her folds.
Stop…
She needed to tell him to stop.
Timber.
This was not right.
“I—”
“Just try to relax.” His finger slowly traced—
The shrill ring of a telephone shattered the silence, and Dr. Tannhäuser’s touch disappeared.
He answered the phone with a soft, steady voice. “Yes?”
Daisy yanked the gown closed, locking her knees together. Her heart hammered hard enough to crack a rib.
“Yes. I see. Thank you.” He hung up. Turned back to her with a Cheshire smile. “Good news. You’re not pregnant.” He chuckled at his little joke, then opened a drawer and withdrew a small vial and a syringe.
Fuck. The contraceptive. They still weren’t done.
“This will sting,” he said, approaching with the needle. “But only for a moment. And then you’ll be on your way.”
She eagerly pulled up her sleeve and closed her eyes as the needle punctured her skin. She sucked in a breath as cold chemicals spread under her skin. Then it was over.
He tossed the syringe in a bin marked BIOHAZARD. “All done. Next time I see you, you’ll be a whole new woman.”
“Next time?”
He smiled, his eyes darkening with promise. “Tomorrow, at The Feast. I’m one of the hunters.”
Chapter Eight
The Weight of Crowns
“Do you know who Robert Oppenheimer was?” Mr. Carrow watched Jack with that particular intensity that meant a lesson was coming. A real one.
Jack put down his pencil. “No, sir.”
“He was a German scientist. A brilliant theoretical physicist. The most fundamental of his generation if not the century.” Mr. Carrow removed his glasses and cleaned them on his sleeve, a habit Jack had come to recognize as a stalling tactic that allowed time for his words to sink in. “During the second World War, he was asked to build a weapon more powerful than anything the world had ever seen. Can you guess what it was?”