BABY ROYAL

by Bella Grant

  We continued exploring each other’s sexes and figuring out what felt good and what was too much. Once I deemed her wet and teased enough, I pulled away to peel her panties off, kissing up her right leg as I admired her shaved sex spread for me. I sat up and discarded my underwear, watching her reaction to my naked body. Her look alone caused my member to twitch in anticipation, her lidded eyes wild with need. I settled myself between her legs and stroked back the damp hairs that clung to the sides of her face.

  “Fiona…” I wanted to assure her it was going to be okay. That it might hurt at first, but once I started moving, it would build to pleasure.

  “It’s okay, I know,” she said before I got a word out. She knew me too well.

  I smiled lovingly at her, the tip of my length pressed at her opening. With one long kiss, I pushed myself inside. Her back immediately arched off the couch, and her sobs were smothered into my lips. I waited until her body grew accustomed to me being inside her before I moved again, sheathing my length a little further. She whimpered when I did so, and I stroked her hair, my hips frozen in place. I kissed her neck and collarbone while her hands rubbed circles in my hair, assuring me she was okay. I kissed her breasts next, reminding her of the pleasure there, and when she moved beneath me, my shaft was engulfed completely. She moaned when she felt me move and started to rock her hips in earnest. Such an impatient one, I thought.

  I sucked her pink nipple and slowly met the roll of her hips. Our bodies adjusted and were in tune with one another. My eyes never left hers, needing to see her reaction to every single one of my movements. She looked so beautiful. So beautifully wrecked and undone. I picked up the pace up as I moved back up for a few more wet and hungry kisses and then buried my head in her neck. She accepted my faster pace readily and clawed at my neck. Her moans died along my shoulder as she bit down on my flesh to stifle them. The bite had me wanting nothing more than to make her sob my name over and over.

  I placed my hands behind her knees, angling her in a way to drive deeper inside her. Her breaths quickened against my skin, and I knew I had found the spot to make her see stars. I held her by the supple flesh of her thighs and whispered in her ear, “Fiona, it’s okay to let go. Come for me and let go.”

  She whimpered, and I felt her tighten around me. Suddenly, I was on the edge of my own release. A few more thrusts, and we climbed and fell together, the euphoric feeling taking both of us over.

  “J-Josh…” My name fell off her lips at the height of her ecstasy, a ‘Fiona’ erupting from mine at the same time. As I spilled myself inside of her, the smell of jasmine and roses and the way she breathed my name overrode everything else happening around us.

  I kissed her neck and whispered sweet words in her ear as we lay there, still intertwined with one another. She sighed and kissed the sweat off my shoulder, her legs slackening around me. I rolled off to the side, slipping out of her to pull her close against me. I tried to ignore my sweaty skin peeling off the leather as my lips brushed along her damp forehead. When she nuzzled up and under my chin, I couldn’t help but think how perfectly she fit in my arms. How right it felt.

  “That was…amazing. I never knew I could feel so close to another human being like that,” she confessed somewhere between my chest hairs and pecs.

  I smiled and was on the verge of saying something along the lines of ‘well, when you’re a psychiatrist, it’s your job to get close to others so they trust you’ when the word ‘psychiatrist’ echoed in my mind and kept me quiet. I was supposed to be gaining her trust to help her, not take advantage of her…

  The guilt washed over me quicker than the afterglow did, and it hit me square in the gut. In all my haste to get us to my office and strip our clothes off, I hadn’t bothered using protection. The weight in the pit of my stomach built as my mind wrapped around the fact that not only had I deflowered my patient without a condom but also broke doctor/patient confidentiality between us.

  “Josh, is something wrong?” she asked. She must have felt my sudden change of mood as well. I couldn’t tell her, though, not now. Not when she basked in her first afterglow in my arms, feeling safe being sweaty, naked, and pressed alongside me.

  My pants on the ground vibrated to life, cutting off my chance to reply. She rolled off me, knowing what the noise indicated, and I got up to get my phone out of my pants, peeling my skin off the couch in the process. I recognized the number as one of the many emergency room lines and cleared my throat.

  “Dr. Sullivan speaking,” I said, my voice somewhat hoarse. It was another case needing a psychiatric admission review. No emergency, just a regular visitor who had bipolar disorder and showed up to admit herself. Mrs. Richardson. I knew her well enough to know she was most likely trying to escape her husband and kids for the weekend. Since she was one of my established patients, I couldn’t pawn her off to a resident. I told the nurse I would be down momentarily and hung up.

  I’d forgotten I was on a call that night. Another detail of my work that slipped due to Fiona. I bent down to pick up my underwear, suddenly very aware I was still naked and had somewhere to be in a short amount of time.

  “I have a case down in the emergency room. I’m on call tonight, and she’s one of my regulars,” I explained with a clipped voice. My lost professionalism had found its way back up my vocal cords. She didn’t say anything behind me, and I wondered if she’d fallen asleep. I finally turned around to face her once my lab coat was on.

  She wasn’t asleep. She was watching me, her discarded dress held tightly against her body as her guard fell into place. Again, her beauty took my breath away. Her hair clung stubbornly to her face, her cheeks bright pink and her lips swollen from our lovemaking. My professional mask fell immediately. She looked at me with fresh-dew eyes, and I stepped over to her and placed my hand gently on her cheek.

  “Are you regretting this?” she asked as she nuzzled into my hand, melting my heart, and I forgot my place and where I was.

  “No, not at all, Fiona. I just…feel terrible for breaking our contract as doctor and patient. I don’t want you to feel like I took advantage of you,” I admitted, and the weight wasn’t as unbearable in my core.

  “Josh, I have never once felt like you have taken advantage of me. Not once. And I still don’t, even after our love making. At least that’s what I’m calling it,” she responded and kissed the palm of my hand. A warmth spread through my fingers from the touch of her lips.

  “Me too. I can definitely dub that the only time I ever felt…love.” The word struggled to come out, and I closed my eyes, knowing I had to go. “I have to go,” I said out loud and leaned over, replacing my hand with my lips and kissed her cheek. “I’ll walk you to the common room, you should get dinner before it’s too late.”

  She nodded, her eyelashes batting at me softly. “Okay.” She stood up on shaking legs to dress herself and whipped her hair up into a ponytail with a hair tie she had around her wrist. She peeked at herself in the reflection of the TV and whirled back around.

  “Do I look at least somewhat like I didn’t just have the best sex of my life?” she asked, and I had to smirk.

  “No, but we can just chalk it up to you having a crying episode if anyone asks.”

  I opened the door and led her back down the hallway where no one even noticed us as they ate around the TV. A movie was on, and the nurses and orderlies were glued to it as much as the patients. I turned to her, wanting to say something, anything to make sure she knew how much she meant to me.

  “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, but don’t think for a second I’m gonna go easy on you in Halo because of tonight,” she whispered and skipped off and into the line for her dinner.

  “Bring it, cutie,” I said before I stepped out of our own little world and back into the hustle and bustle of reality.

  Chapter 14

  When Josh left my side, it was like he had taken all the lights in the city with him, the adrenaline gone but the buzz of the aftermath still around me. I acc
epted it willingly as I hugged the thin sheets around my body now that I was back in my own room. I actually ate a decent meal at dinner and even allowed the stupid grin on my face to widen from time to time.

  I finally gave my virginity to a man I was falling for and who cared about me so much, it showed on his face as soon as he laid eyes on me. For a psychiatrist, he sure needed to work on his poker face since tonight I saw it all—the love, the lust, the attempt at being professional and the guilt afterwards. I knew I held no regrets about what happened, but he just might later on.

  The guilt didn’t surprise me. I was actually prepared for it as soon as our clothes hit the floor. If he didn’t feel guilty, it would have thrown me off. He was not only human, he was a doctor. A renowned and ‘doctor of the year’ kind of doctor who could lose his practicing license if we were caught. However, we didn’t mean for this happen, it just kind of did.

  That was the funny thing about falling in love with someone. I might have come close to it before, but not like this. This was like something that fell into my lap unexpectedly at the right time in my life. This warm feeling blooming inside of my chest was exactly what I needed after the last nine months of darkness.

  I wanted to hold on to it. I knew it wasn’t the entire solution for the hole in my heart, but it was something. It was hope, pure and innocent and warm. It was a yellow balloon carrying me above the clouds. I didn’t want to let go, not before I knew what could evolve between Josh and me. Yet I was worried about his job on the line.

  I forced myself out of bed to fish out my PJs from the adjacent wooden dresser. I slipped on a pair of shorts and a thin tank top and headed to the bathroom. Once my nightly routine was finished, I climbed under the sheets and took a big whiff. They still smelled like him. Like us—like sex, and my body warmed due to the heady scent. I blushed, wondering if we would do it again. My head quickly whipped up fantasies of him taking me on his office desk, the chair, the couch, everywhere and anywhere inside his four beige walls. Papers would be pushed onto the ground and scattered about. Video games would be forgotten, the screen in pause mode. The curtains closed and the doors locked.

  I yearned to indulge in those fantasies for the rest of night, but every time I tried to play them further, I hit a road block because deep down, I wasn’t sure if there would be a next time. Or, even more importantly, what would become of Josh and me after my discharge in a few days. Only one extension was allowed during my stay, unless Josh dubbed me as a more severe case. Then I could stay another week on inpatient status.

  “Believe it or not, the higher-ups usually frown upon that,” he’d explained to me when we went over my extension paperwork. “Nowadays, we are encouraged to have outpatient services as the end goal for most treatment plans, even for attempted suicide cases like yourself. As long as you are deemed harmless to yourself and others, once your observation period is over, we diagnose and discharge. No one likes to stay in here anyways,” he continued.

  “Then what happens when I’m discharged? Do I still see you?” I’d asked as I soaked up all the given information.

  “Well, once you’re discharged, an outpatient treatment plan will be put in place and can involve a mix of therapy and medication if needed. The plan can be in place for years after being hospitalized, depending on your progress, of course.”

  His whole explanation led me to my next set of thoughts. He never did clearly state he would continue as my psychiatrist, and knowing his morals, he probably wouldn’t since we’d crossed the line of patient and doctor. The thought of him transferring me to someone else wasn’t a pleasant one. He was the only doctor since the accident that I trusted. How could I even face another shrink when it was taking me quite some just to let Josh under my skin and now that he was under it, I didn’t want him leaving. I needed him as my psychiatrist first, and reminded myself that sure, even if I did just sleep with him, I still required the professional help he was willing to give me.

  However, whatever this was, like, love or lust, I selfishly didn’t want it to end. Yet I knew it was unfair of me to push that all on him. He didn’t mean for this to happen, and neither did I. Now we had to deal with the consequences, and I didn't want to deal with them alone. Nor did I think Josh would let me. I knew he felt as much as I did about the severity of our situation at hand. Feelings were involved, and now it was tangled mess of what is and what shouldn’t be. Perhaps, we both needed to take a step backwards to assess the possible damage done.

  I replayed our last words to each other and amongst my serious concerns, I laughed, thinking of what I’d said to him about not going easy on him in Halo. Lisa would have been proud of me. Lisa. Shit. What would she think about me seducing my own psychiatrist to lay on top of me? Well, knowing Lisa, she would probably high-five me and smack me upside the head and ask me what the hell I was thinking. Then she’d take me out for a nice meal and drinks to celebrate the loss of my virginity.

  Still, I knew she would ask the same questions I was already asking myself. What did our future hold? What would happen if anyone found out? Would he lose his job? Would he choose to keep me on as a patient or as a potential date? I looked up at the old wall clock. No wonder I was so exhausted; it was nearly 9:30. The exhaustion was not just physical but mental as well. My own thoughts jerked me down from my afterglow high. I rolled over onto my side and hugged my pillow tightly, going back to the lighter thoughts of Josh.

  I pretended he was still holding me as my eyes grew heavy, and for once, the positive outweighed the negative. When I woke the next morning, for the first time in nine months, I hadn’t had a night terror.

  The next few sessions went by in a blur. A butterflies-in-my-stomach kind of blur. Every time I showed up at Josh’s door, I found myself extremely thankful Lisa had packed me summer dresses and skirts when she dropped off more clothes for me. Things I would have worn before if I’d gotten off the couch and out of my sweats. She knew, too, how much these clothes would brighten my mood. Or maybe, just maybe, she had seen the spark between Josh and me.

  I tried not to gush about him too much during our last visit together, but that didn’t mean she didn’t catch on. She was my best friend, after all.

  On our last day together, I wore my periwinkle halter summer dress with a sweetheart neckline. It was knee-length and cinched in at my waist, accenting any curves I had. It did help that I’d gained some healthy weight back since my arrival, and my self-confidence soared when I looked in the mirror without cringing. I found a yellow headband and made quick work of my hair, putting it into a side braid, and applied light lipstick. I slipped on my flats and cheerfully waited for Blaine to escort me down the hall.

  “Someone is excited to get this over with,” he commented when he did show up and gave me the once over, nodding in approval. He was like the big brother I never had, with bigger arms than I would have imagined any sibling having.

  I grinned and twirled the skirt of my dress around. “Do you like it? I thought it was the perfect going home outfit,” I said. He agreed and led the way I knew by heart to Josh’s office.

  I continued to let Blaine and the rest of the staff assume I was dressed up because I would be discharged that afternoon. Deep down, my heart knew I was dressed up for Josh because if this was the last time I saw him, I had to look my best.

  I still wasn’t sure what Josh’s decision was on the whole matter. We barely talked about anything regarding that night in our sessions afterwards. Or about what lay ahead for us. Instead, we focused on me entirely and my future. Since it was easier to talk about the past with him lately, we talked productivity about where I should go from here. We also worked

  on a suitable treatment plan for me once I was discharged, with certain personal goals in mind. Like college, my career path, and everything in between. It was like nothing had happened and we were back to business, and I was happy to focus on my treatment with him still by my side.

  There were minor changes to our sessions too. Like how he sat
next to me on the couch when we talked, and his hand grazed mine while it rested on his thigh. Or when we played video games, how our thighs touched and we would bump shoulders, egging the other on. It was like we had skipped the uncertainty of a relationship and went right into the established motions. We grew comfortable with each other in the brief time span we had together. It still didn’t soothe my queries about our night together nor about did what lied ahead, and I felt uncertain until I finally gained the courage to speak about it. Today would be my last shot for any kind of answers before I was pushed back into the real world. I had to do something.

  I stood tall, smoothing my dress as we waited for Vickie to announce I was there. I waited a little longer than usual, but I wouldn’t let it mess with my surge of confidence. A few moments later, the door swung open, and much to my surprise, Josh looked like absolute shit. His eyes were tired with dark circles under them, and his clothes were made up of a wrinkled dress shirt under his lab coat with a coffee stain on it. He looked unkempt, and I hid my concern until we got behind closed doors.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked. I frowned as I watched him pace the room. He never paced.

  “Just peachy,” he said sarcastically. He was never sarcastic.

  I wasn’t sure what to say next, so I stood near the door, dumbfounded, and waited for him to look at me, really look at me. I didn’t put all this work in for nothing, was what I wanted to say to him, but I bit my tongue to stifle the snarky comment.

  “I’m sorry for asking,” I muttered and crossed my arms. That got him to stand still, and his eyes settled on my outfit. He fondly smiled once he openly checked me out. I mentally high-fived myself.