Page 72 of Stranger to Love

Her smirk was pure wickedness. “No. That’s not how we ask. Use your words, darling. Tell me what you want, and who you want it from.”

The humiliation of being made to beg warred violently with the throbbing heat between my legs. I bit my lip, forcing the words out. “Please... please touch me, Dr. Carter. I need you to touch me.”

She finally moved, dropping her face level with my thighs, her elbows resting on the mattress on either side of my hips as her eyes locked onto mine. “You’re shaking. Good. Let’s make this worthwhile.”

With a final, agonising descent, she closed the distance. Her tongue flicked out—warm, wet, and perfectly targeted—striking my clit.

I groaned deeply, a ragged, broken sound that echoed in the quiet room as my entire body violently arced off the mattress. Everything inside me exploded. I had known she would be incredible, but the sheer intensity meant I had to actively fight to keep from coming within three seconds.

The shock of that first touch dissipated instantly, replaced by a deep, consuming pleasure. Dr. Carter didn’t hesitate; she started working her tongue with a precision that was both clinical and ravenous. She was exploring, fucking mapping me, learning what got the best reaction. She moved from firm, insistent pressure on my clit to slick, wet sweeps across the swollen tissue. Fuck, just looking at her down there, taking me however she wanted was killing me.

My hips rolled on pure instinct, trying to pull her impossibly deeper between my legs.

“Yes, darling,” she muttered against my skin, the vibrations sending lightning through my nerves. “You taste incredible, Alex. So sweet.”

She locked back onto my clit, circling it with a steady, relentless cadence that made my vision blur. Pulling back just enough to speak, her voice arrived ragged and demanding. “I can’t wait for you to come in my mouth, darling. Don’t hold back for a single second.”

Fuck, I was going to.

The verbal command destroyed the last of my defences. Every single promise to maintain control dissolved. Every nerve ending in my body tightened into a singularity. I gasped her name as the violent tremors of a climax seized my core.

The second the spasms hit, Dr. Carter clamped down, suctioning my clit hard. It was too much—too perfect. All the discipline and teasing exploded into physical chaos.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chanted, a broken mantra as my hands clawed at the pillows and my back arched high.

The climax was massive, a shuddering release that sent spasms rocking through my entire body. I could hear a deep, satisfied groan rumble in Dr. Carter's throat as the intensity hit.

Even as I came down, her tongue didn’t stop, flickering rapidly across my clit, maximising the aftershocks. Then, eagerly, she started licking up my release, her head tilting slightly as she cleaned me.

She let out a final, heavy groan against my skin. “Good girl, Alex. So good.”

The quiet approval almost sent me over a second precipice. I laid there panting, completely spent, the taste of my own release lingering on her lips as she buried her face between my thighs. It was the most total, devastating surrender of my life.

Dr. Carter finally pulled away reluctantly, sitting back on her heels. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand—a simple, casual gesture that felt intimately triumphant. The second she sat up, her regal, controlled posture snapped back into place, the predatory hunger replaced by that familiar, ruthless clarity.

I laid spread beneath her, trembling and utterly owned. A low, satisfied hum vibrated in her chest as she took in the evidence of her work—my flushed skin, heavy eyelids, and ruined state.

She reached down, gently straightening my legs in a final act of ownership, before stepping off the bed. I watched her pick up my discarded nightgown and toss it carelessly onto the bedside table.

She climbed back onto the mattress, sliding under the duvet and pulling the warmth over both of us. The cocoon of intimacy was immediate. I didn't do that. I didn't stay for cuddles or soft mornings after. But damn, I wanted to fall into her warmth.

Fuck it.

I turned toward her, magnetically drawn, and hauled her in for a kiss. I groaned at the taste—the unmistakable flavour of myself on her lips. It was highly possessive. Dr. Carter deepened the intrusion immediately, ensuring I tasted every lingering drop of my own release on her tongue. It was a stunningly arrogant, sensual move. So entirely her.

When she finally broke away, she was smiling—a radiant, beautiful expression that made my chest ache. “See, darling? You taste exceptional. I can’t wait to taste you again.”

Taste me again? Fuck, I just knew I would do anything for her to do that again.

My eyes snapped open, still wild with need. My hand glided over her red silk gown, pulling her naked body tightly against my side. The afterglow was already mutating back into hunger. “But I wanted my breakfast, too,” I challenged, desperate to make her come as hard as she had just ruined me.

Dr. Carter shook her head slowly, a hint of unyielding steel in her eyes. “We have plenty of time, Alex. We should get some proper food.”

I groaned, frustration mixing with lingering pleasure, and pushed her further into the mattress, pressing my body against hers. “But you got to have yours! I wanted mine.”

Her hands roamed happily and deliberately over my bare skin—the curve of my hip, the small of my back, the weight of my breast—her touch promising everything while her lips delivered a torturous, soft peck. “If you wish to play, Alex, we play entirely on my terms.”

“You’re playing unfair,” I whined, nibbling along her jawline to incite a reaction. “You came in here looking like that, devoured me, and expect me to just be fine?”