Page 11 of Sacred Blood

Survivors endured.

Survivors kept moving.

Even when they were hanging on by a thread.

“What?” I asked, a little louder than necessary.

His cold expression did nothing to hide the hint of amusement in the depths of his eyes.

“Are you ready for your dressing down, Miss Cala?”

I crossed my arms across my chest, blowing by habit at a strand of hair that wasn’t bothering me in the least, but it did help express my irritation.

“If that’s what this is, then go ahead. But just so you know, doctor, this is your fault as half your damn nursing staff is off sick. Maybe you should give yourself the dressing down, as you called it. In fact,” I stood up, literally shaking with rage, “why don’t you go fuck yourself, I don’t need this stupid job anyway!”

I was unhinged, shaking, and yelling for no reason at all. I knew this, but couldn’t control myself enough to stop doing it.

Unfazed, Dr. Vitale stood up and moved around to my side of the desk. His cool composure and steely gaze brought my outburst to an immediate stop. Panting, I glared at him, silently daring him to say anything that may piss me off.

“I believe you need some stress relief, Miss Cala.”

Before I could question him, he planted his foot on the chair and seized me. The room spun. I landed with a Whoomph! over a strong, muscular thigh, my legs and arms left to dangle in the air, I gripped the only thing I could reach—an equally muscular calf and shin.

“What are you doing?” I screeched. “Put me down at once!”

A hand as unyielding as a wooden breadboard landed on my ass with a report that pierced the air. He just spanked me! I wanted to protest, I really did, but it was like I’d forgotten how to speak. Smack! The sound of his hand hitting my backside was so loud, I was sure his secretary could hear it. Heat filled my face, but not as hot as my ass.

The sting was unbearable and finally, finding a will to fight, I began squirming over his thigh to escape the punishing strokes. The real protest, however, had nothing to do with the hard swats, but with hiding the reaction to his dominance in taking me in hand.

The moment my brain caught up to my body and realized our predicament, a more primal response started triggering my sex. Beneath my standard-issued medical scrubs, my panties were soaked. If I could smell my excitement, surely, he could too.

As if reading my mind, I suddenly found myself on my feet having my pants ripped down. He sat on the chair his foot had been on, and deposited me over his thighs with my upper body so low, my nose almost touched the ground. That was saying something since I only stand 5 feet 1 inch. And with my head so close to the floor, that meant my ass was raised, front and center. I tried kicking my legs, but he wrapped one of his much larger ones over mine, thoroughly trapping me.

“I see a little pain excites you, Miss Cala. You long for me to touch you and bring you relief.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement issued as a fact. His fingers teased over my wet panties, and I did the unthinkable, moaning aloud.

Above me, a growly chuckle sounded, then, whap! His hand landed with more force than the ones when I was dangling over his leg, and I cried out.

“That’s more like it,” he crooned. “Naughty girls cry first, then, if they behave, they get to come.”

Holy hell, his dirty words sent a fresh message from my brain straight to my clit. My compressed lips let out another moan, all restraint gone.

He spanked me so hard I was sure my ass would be covered in his handprints. This image set off another spark and pushed me toward a need so deep, it was wholly unfamiliar.

He removed the leg he’d been using to pin me in place and immediately I parted my thighs. Please touch me, I silently begged.

“Tsk, tsk, Gaby, you’ve wet your panties, naughty girl. I better remove them.” He ripped my panties in two and with the saturated material stripped away, the air cooled my heated core. Or did, until he ran a thick finger along my puffy opening.

“Yes,” I hissed.

“Do you deserve to have my finger inside of you?”

He wove a magic spell with his finger expertly swirling around my clit with just enough pressure to drive me to the edge, but not allowing me to fall off. When I pushed back at him, he pulled away and slapped my clit.

“Ahh!” I cried out in surprise.

“Answer me, Cattivo l’infermeira!”

Naughty nurse? Was I ever! If he ever found out my papers were fake, what would he do then?