His lips are surprisingly firm for someone who had their dick in my mouth only two hours ago, but within a couple of strokes of my tongue, he cracks open his mouth and returns my embrace.
Our kiss is animalistic, out of control, and not suitable for anyone below the age of eighteen. Just the long strokes of his tongue on the roof of my mouth have me ready to combust, much less the way he grips my ass so my pussy hovers above the ridge in his pants growing firmer the longer we kiss.
It’s needy, rough, and so goddamn perfect, I have no clue we’ve reached our floor until JR carries me out of the elevator before he opens the door to our room with his boot instead of the keycard.
As he walks us through the living room of our suite to the bedroom, I rip at his clothes, desperate to feel the heat of his skin under my hands.
By the time he tosses me onto the bed, I have his jacket undone and shirt bunched halfway up his fantastic stomach. The chances of absorbing his wickedly sexy body as it deserves is swiped out from beneath me when I take in the bruises extending from the swell of his left hip to above his ribcage. They’re not the standard black and blue coloring you see when a patient comes in with internal bleeding, but their freshness could be deceiving my better judgment.
As could my libido.
Conscious now isn’t the time to let my desires overtake my smarts, I slip off the bed, then carefully force JR onto it. He grunts his disapproval when my hands’ perusal of his body stops at his ribcage instead of his rapidly hardening cock, but when I shush him, he’s too surprised by my confidence to slacken it.
After ensuring I can’t feel any protruding bones or life-threatening contusions, I gather my stethoscope out of the medical bag JR must have collected from the floor before exiting the elevator.
The front of JR’s pants tightens even more when I blow hot air on the steel chest piece while stuffing the earpieces into my ear. His thoughts are as elsewhere as mine, but since he knows we won’t move onto the next stage until I’ve given him the all-clear, he pretends he’s the ideal patient.
“Can you breathe in deep for me? Nice big breaths.” While listening for any indicators that he punctured his lungs, I admire the expansive rise and fall of his chest when he does as asked. His pecs are bigger than my head, and the knowledge has me miscounting the thumps of his heart when I switch my focus from his lungs to his chest.
He has a robust heartbeat that grows more rampant when our eyes fleetingly lock for the quickest second. Our closeness has them appearing even more familiar. I swear I’ve seen them before, but for the life of me, I can’t work out where.
“Have we met befo—”
In quicker than I can blink, JR tugs the stethoscope prongs out of my ears, throws it across the room, pulls me onto the bed, rolls me over, then reacquaints our lips.
Sweet lord, this man knows how to kiss.
He is as controlling throughout it as he is with everything else he does, but not in a domineering take-whatever-he-wants way. His grip on my hair is so firm, I can’t mistake that it’s weaved throughout the knots, but not hard enough I can’t pull back from his mouth if I want to.
Not that I’deverwant to do that!
His kiss is too sublime for that. Too heated. It goes above and beyond any kiss I’ve ever had, and it sees me deepening our embrace. I kiss him hard, desperate to experience everything he’s willing to give me, and he answers my pleas in a way I could have never imagined.
Our kiss takes on a life of its own. It sparks something from deep within me and has me acting like I’ve never done before. I tug at the waistband of JR’s sweatpants without my mouth once leaving his. I swallow down his groan when my impatience to wrap my hand around his velvety shaft has me jacking him off before the waistband of his pants is halfway down ass.
I pump his thick cock on repeat, dying to learn if the moans rolling up his chest will revitalize me as much as the breaths of life I’ve given to patients over the years. I’m confident they will, but I’ve always been about letting a person show their strengths instead of prying them out of them.
When my frantic strokes have precum leaking from the head of his impressive cock, I’m anticipating for our event to soon come to an end. For the teasing touches and almost climaxes he’s faced the past two days to send him racing over the finish line within a couple of minutes of the sprint beginning, so you can imagine my shock when he pulls my hand out from his pants, then pins it with my other hand above my head.
After shoving my shirt up so it sits under my chin, he pulls down my pants then commences kissing a trail of hairy kisses across my breasts and down my stomach.
His dedication to my body shocks me.
Aren’t men always about themselves in the bedroom?
Isn’t it meant to be about their desires before mine?
That’s how every man I’ve ever slept with acted. They didn’t care if I got off. If their needs were met, they rolled over, went to sleep, then instigated a second helping the next day.
That’s why it was rare for me to still be there the following day. I don’t care how starved you are for affection, no one wants to feel used. Furthermore, if I was about to work a hundred-hour shift, I didn’t want to waste my precious time on things not worthy of my attention.
Wetness slicks between my legs when JR’s recently cropped beard tickles the sensitive skin I had waxed earlier this week in preparation for my trip. His beard is even softer now that it’s been trimmed, however, no amount of pampering could take away from the friction it surges through me when he grinds his chin against my sex to coat his beard with the scent of my arousal.
When JR’s hands slide down my thighs, my legs naturally part, but he adds an additional shove to get across his point that he wants me opened and exposed. His slip off the bed exposes this, not to mention his heated rake of my body as he drinks in every scandalous inch.
I’m filthy dirty, but my murkiness has nothing to do with how I look and everything to do with how wickedly immoral JR’s stare makes me feel. I was engaged only days ago. I’m a well-educated and respected member of society, but when he stares at me like he is now, I’d give it all away in an instant.
Thoughts like that should be illegal. You shouldn’t be able to have such a strong connection with a stranger. But I’m done lying to myself. I’ve done it for years, and where did it get me? Engaged to a man I hardly knew and living a life that was full of loneliness even while surrounded by people.
