Her legs part.
I didn't make her. She chose to.
The victory of it spreads through my chest, hot and possessive. Above the table, nothing has changed. I'm leaning back in my chair, the picture of a compliant patient. Below the table, my fingers find the lace edge of her panties.
"Read me the next question."
"The camera—"
"Can't see. And Gage is at the wrong angle. Just keep your voice down."
My fingers trace the seam. The fabric is already fucking soaked. I can smell her, sweet and aroused, and my cock gives a hard jerk in my pants.
I hook my finger under the gusset and pull it aside, baring her completely. Her cunt is flushed pink, her folds slick and glistening.
"Oh fuck."
"The next question, Hope."
Her hand is shaking so badly the clipboard rattles. "I—medication side effects. Have you experienced any new… symptoms?"
"No."
I slide a finger through her wet folds, parting her. She's so slick, so ready for me. I find her clit on the first pass, swollen and sensitive, and circle it with just enough pressure to make her hips jerk.
"Sleep patterns," she chokes out, staring at the page without seeing a word of it. "Any… changes?"
I push one finger deep inside her pussy.
She drops the pen. It clatters on the linoleum, and Gage's head snaps up. His eyes sweep the table, find nothing, but his frown deepens.
"Pick it up."
She fumbles for it, her face burning. "Tell me," she whispers. "Tell me about the changes."
I add a second finger, fucking them into her tight, wet heat.
She lets out a choked-off sound, half-moan, half-whimper, and her thighs clamp down on my wrist. Her body is gripping me, pulling me deeper.
"I dream more," I say, my voice steady while my fingers work deeper inside her. "Vivid dreams."
"What… what are they about?"
I curl my fingers, find that sensitive spot inside her that makes her gasp and arch against my hand.
"You."
Her eyes flutter shut.
This is power. Her reports can get me sedated for a week, but right now I own her. My fingers are buried in her pussy and she is coming apart for me, piece by piece. She has a master's degree and the keys to this entire fucking wing, and she can't even keep her knees together.
"Good girl," I murmur, just to see what happens.
Her whole body convulses. It's not just a shudder; it's a full-body jolt, so violent her chair scrapes the floor. Her eyes flyopen, wide with shock, her thighs squeezing my hand. I feel her clenching around my fingers, a frantic, desperate pulse that has nothing to do with my touch and everything to do with those two words.
"Again," she breathes. "Say it—fuck, please."
I've found it. My cock throbs so hard I have to lock my jaw. Two words—two fucking words—and she nearly came.This competent, professional woman is desperate for praise. Needs to be told she's good while doing something so bad.
