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Right now, I’m the man who holds her in a precarious position. The man who’s about to do an obscene checkup on his most valued patient.
My unsure, blinking in trepidation patient.
This isn’t a laughing matter.
It’s about adoring, worshiping, and driving a measured amount of fear into her heart. About touching her in the most decadent ways.
About having her squirm beneath my charge.
“I’ll sit down and let you know.” I settle on my stool, dragging it toward her.
Technically, she doesn’t need to move an inch. Her ass rests just before the edge of the table, the position of her feet on the stirrups spreading her out to me.
I have the perfect access and angle to see the inside of her pussy. A much better view than the one than what I had over the weekend.
On Friday, in the pool, Prue tilted her hips, so I got a good look at her cunt. A decent one, given the dimly lit terrace and the splashing water obstructing my view.
Here, in my clinic, the overhead fluorescent lights show me everything in great detail. The crevices of her cunt, her swollen lips, her pink, wet entrance, the hardened clit.
She’s aroused, clenching and unclenching with every few breaths.
But her smell isn’t as strong as I remembered. She isn’t nearly close enough to my face for the shit I plan on doing to her in what little time we have. To touch her how I fantasize aboutandsanitize and air the room, I’ll have to move fast.
“Scoot forward.” I’m cold as a fucking iceberg. Noplease, noMs. Bishop. A strict demand.
She does, tilting her head to gaze at me with hope in her eyes. “Better?”
“Much.” I stifle a groan as her scent hits me. “I need you to relax your legs, let your knees fall to the sides. Think you can do that for me?”
“Mm-hmm.” With a sigh, she lets go, spreading herself for me.
“That’s it.” I twist in my chair to the shelves at my left, searching for latex gloves.
And not finding them. That’s what Bonnie was getting on the way over.
Dammit.
I pinch my eyes shut, expanding my lungs, letting in much-needed air.
Losing it around Prue isn’t happening.
Neither is touching her bare without her permission.
“Something wrong?” Her question arises in the form of self-doubt.
The undertone of her shivers, her frightened little gasps, have my dick hard like no other. However, and it’s a big one, I’m not into making her second-guess herself as a person for no reason.
She spurred the sadist in me to life, not a narcissistic abuser like him.
“My gloves.” I shift my thoughts back to her. My eyes find her over her parted legs, somber and back in my role even though I’m inches from feasting on her swollen clit. “I don’t have them. Not yet.”
“I’m the first one today, right?” she whispers, her cheeks burning a shade redder. “Your first patient here?”
“Yes.” My cock responds to her timidness. Demanding, aching to be sheathed by her walls. “You are.”
“And you…” Her eyelids flutter, droopy over lust-filled eyes.
“Look at me when you’re talking to me.” My fingers clench around the edge of the table, not touching her, but just about.
