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"I'm going to lock the door and fuck you right now," he whispered, pressing his fingers against my clit through my tights. I gasped and couldn't help but press against him. Then he got up and went to the door, turning the lock. He came back and lay beside me again, kissing my neck, pulling open my sweater, running his tongue over the tops of my breasts. When he pulled the fabric down to expose one nipple and sucked on it, sending a thrill through my body, I gasped.
He stopped sucking and pulled on my nipple. He took my hand and ran it over top of his scrubs so I could feel his erection.
"See what you do to me?"
I smiled coyly. "That was your own doing." Then, I heard voices outside the door. "Drake, is this a good idea? Will you get in trouble if someone comes? Maybe we should stop?"
"Shh," he said. "You signed the contract. No resistance." He kissed me again, leaning over me, stroking my cheek, his fingers running over my bottom lip. "I want you now."
"Do you," I said, barely able to speak as he nuzzled my neck. "Do you think it's a good idea before surgery? Won't it, like, sap your vital essence or something?"
I felt his cheek raise in a smile against my neck, then his mouth moved back down to my breasts.
"Quiet. You talk far too much. I'm going to eat you," he said, taking my hand again and moving it down over his balls. "Right now."
Then he pulled away and bent down, taking my feet and removing my shoes, before unzipping my jean skirt and pulling down my tights and underwear. He finished undressing me so that I was completely naked, sitting on the couch. Still fully dressed, he knelt down and examined me.
"I'm going to have to shave you again tonight," he said. "I look forward to it."
Then he buried his face between my spread thighs, his fingers opening me up, his mouth and lips and tongue finding my clit. I leaned back and just closed my eyes, for he was an unstoppable force. My last coherent thought as he slipped two fingers inside of me was that I tried to warn him, so if anything happened, I did my part. Then, I just let myself feel what he was doing to me.
He worked me up, his tongue stroking all over my aching flesh until my heart was racing, my breathing fast and shallow, pleasure building in me. Just when I thought I might come, he withdrew his fingers. He pulled me up and turned me around so that I leaned over the couch, my knees on the seat and my body over the back. After unzipping, he stroked me with the head of his cock for a few moments. When he entered me, moving slo
wly inside of me, just a few inches, it felt so good I gasped. Then, he bent over me, one arm around my waist so that he stroked me with his fingers.
"Tell me when you're close."
He kept his fingers on me as he thrust and soon, I was ready, the sweetness growing in my groin.
"Drake, I…"
He increased his tempo, and soon, my orgasm started, the pleasure building and then almost exploding through my body, my face hot, my thighs quaking. He thrust even harder as if he could tell I was coming, and it wasn't long after my own pleasure subsided that he came as well, thrusting deeply, his mouth at my ear, grunting as he did.
He leaned against me, breathing hard, his hands covering mine on the back of the couch.
"Fuck, I needed that…" He kissed my shoulder and bit it gently. "I needed you." Finally, he slid out of me but when I tried to turn around, he stopped me.
"No, stay like that so I can admire you. My come is running down your leg."
I smiled to myself. Drake Morgan, MD, neurosurgeon, bass player, philanthropist, enjoying the evidence of his orgasm inside of me. No matter how intelligent and accomplished he was, he was still a man. A kinky man.
I said nothing, waiting for him to have his fill of examining me in that position. He sat on a chair across from me and just stared.
"Um, my legs are a bit shaky," I said.
"I know. I like seeing you shake because of what I did to you."
Finally, he turned me around, using several tissues to wipe me up. Then he pushed me down on the couch, lying on top of me.
"This won't affect your surgical performance, will it?" I said, unable to keep a grin off my face.
He laughed out loud at that, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "Probably. Might improve it."
"I thought men got all sleepy after an orgasm."
"Sometimes, but it depends on the time of day. Right now, I feel great. I was feeling very deprived, Ms. Bennet. Very unhappy so a few extra pleasure endorphins will only help." He closed his eyes and sighed, pressing his forehead against mine. "You just have no idea how relieved I am. When I went up to your apartment, I made poor Mrs. Kropotkin so frantic I thought she was going to call the police. It took every neuron I ever made studying Russian to convince her I didn't have ill-intent. I was really worried about you."
"I'm sorry," I said, my voice soft, feeling guilty for ignoring his messages. "Lara asked me to think about what was more important – my happiness or your career. I left the apartment because she told me you were coming over."
