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He lowered my arm and nodded. “I need to do a breast exam. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
“Open up your gown for me.”
I pulled at the fragile sides, spreading them apart, my nipples painfully hard, my skin heated with anticipation. When his right hand touched my collarbone and trailed a slow line down and over my nipple, I shivered.
“Are you sensitive?”
“Not normally.”
His fingers circled my nipple, a wide arch, then a tighter spiral. “But right now?”
I inhaled as his warm palm settled over my pert bud and he squeezed. “A little.”
“You have beautiful breasts. They’re natural?”
“Yes.”
His second hand cupped the other breast, and they moved in concert over my skin.
“One of the things you wanted to see me about was your arousal levels. Is that correct?”
I glanced at Easton, who gave a subtle nod. I met the doctor’s eyes. “Um… yes.”
“Mr. North, would you mind helping me in this part of the exam?”
Easton straightened off the wall and stepped forward, moving to stand beside the doctor.
“I’m going to keep touching her breasts, and I need you to put your fingers inside of Elle and tell me how wet she is.”
Easton reached forward, his gaze tight on mine, and I struggled to keep my eyes open, to maintain our eye contact as he pushed two fingers inside my open pussy. I failed. The intrusion was too much and I gasped, my eyes closing as the doctor’s hand pinched my nipple.
“She’s wet,” Easton bit out.
“How wet?”
“Fucking soaked.” He worked his fingers in and out, and I could hear the wet slurp of my skin. “You like that, Elle?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
“You like his hands on you?”
I let out a soft mew of pleasure as the doctor gently pulled on one breast. “Yes.”
“Keep touching her like that,” the doctor ordered, as his thumbs rubbed roughly over my aching nipples. “Mr. North, how often do you fuck your wife?”
I was pumping my hips now, making short jerks against the table as I tried to get more and more of Easton’s fingers inside of me.
“Every day,” Easton rasped, his gaze flicking from my eyes to the action of his hand.
“Interesting.” His hands left my breast and he moved beside Easton. “Let me check her for myself.”
Easton’s fingers took their time in pulling slowly out of me. He stepped back and I watched as he adjusted himself, his eyes thick and lazy with arousal. I knew this look. I fucking loved this look. This was the look where bad ideas came from. This was the look right before things got really fucking dirty.
The doctor sat on the stool, then rolled toward the end of the bed, his face now level with my knees. “Lie back on the table and open up your legs for me. Hold them at the knee.” I did, closing my eyes at the bright overhead light. From the next room over, I heard the muted sound of a conversation, barely audible over the still-playing reception music.
“Hmmm. Beautiful.” His fingers spread me open, and I flinched when the tip of one finger began a slow and delicious exploration of my pussy. It rolled along the side of my slit, then flicked over the bottom rim of my opening. It traveled back up the other side, then slowly circled my clit. I arched against the table as he played gently with my swollen bud, the pleasure excruciatingly precise. “You know,” he said mildly, as if we were about to discuss a weather update or interesting news bulletin. “Your sex life is much more active than a traditional married couple.”
“Is it?” I clutched at the edge of the table, my hips rocking a little, needing so much more. Easton walked slowly around the table, coming to a stop beside me.
“Yes. Most husbands and wives have sex once, sometimes twice a week. Extensive sexual activity can sometimes dilute your body’s responses to stimulation.” Dr. Loutin pulled me to the edge of the table, then lifted my right foot, placing it in a stirrup that I immediately recognized from every gynecological appointment I’d ever had. He positioned the left, and I felt the brush of his scrubs against my ankle as he moved between my legs. “Elle, I’m going to do a few things and I want you to stay as still and quiet as you can. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.”
He settled back on his stool, rolling closer until he was in between my legs. His finger began to swirl in a knot around my clit. “Let’s use Dr. Loutin when you address me, okay?”
I closed my eyes as the pleasure grew, my voice a silvery whisper when I spoke. “Yes, Dr. Loutin.”
“Good girl. I bet you drive men crazy, Elle.” The finger of one hand pushed in between my folds as his other continued in a tight sweep around my clit. “Does she, Mr. North?”
