Naughty Desires

by Sarah Castille

  “What is this, Lil?”

  Sweat beads between my tightly bound breasts. He could destroy me with only a word, humiliate me so deeply I might never recover. But this is my last, best chance to repair our marriage, and although I’m terrified of his rejection, I’m even more afraid of being alone.

  “An emergency, Dr. Taylor.” I bend over in front of the television as I switch it to the baby monitor channel, giving him a full-on view of my ass, bare except for the garter straps and the thin line of my naughty nurse thong.

  “Lily . . .” His voice cracks, breaks.

  “Here we go.” I stand to the side, one hand on my hip, posing as if I’m trying to sell the TV while an image of our bedroom flickers on the screen. “As you can see, the patient is . . . Oh dear. He’s missing.”

  “Babe . . . please . . .”

  “We’d better go upstairs and check it out.” I grab the stethoscope and walk straight between his parted legs. Bending low to put it around his neck, I give him an up close and personal look at the magnificent cleavage created by my corset.

  Chris clears his throat as I slide my hands over his taut shoulders. “This isn’t you.”

  No, it’s not me. It’s who I want to be, who I should have been if I hadn’t been so afraid to open up and let him in. Strong. Brave. Determined.

  “You’re right. I’m Nurse Taylor, and we need to get you ready to see your patient.” Swallowing hard, I climb on his lap, straddling his legs with my knees. “I’ve got your jacket right here.” I point to the white doctor’s coat I left carefully folded on the coffee table, along with a pair of green scrubs and my phone.

  Of course, he hadn’t noticed.

  “You seem tense, maybe a little music . . .” I lean over and press the playlist I put together on my lunch break. The soft, sultry sound of Ciara’s “Body Party” fills the room, and Chris smiles, despite himself.

  “Dirty girl.”

  I bite back a snort. He has no idea how dirty I’m planning to be.

  “Now we need to take off this shirt.” I slide forward and bite back a soft cry as I grab the hem of his T-shirt. He’s hard beneath his jeans, and the knowledge that I can still affect him that way makes me instantly wet. Even if he pushes me away, at least I know he still desires me.

  My hands smooth over his skin, the rock-hard muscles of his chest, and the firm ridges of his lats as I push his shirt up. And although he doesn’t stop me, passive Chris is not who I need.

  After working the shirt around the stethoscope, I pull it over his head, leaning so far forward my breasts are right in his face.

  “Christ.” His hands curl around my hips, his fingers tightening so hard I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow. He wants me, but he’s fighting it every step of the way.

  “You’ll have to put your coat on, Dr. Taylor.” I wrench myself away and slide off his lap. Unbelievably, he stands when I hold out the coat and, with a sigh, shrugs it on to Gary Clark Junior’s soulful voice as he sings “Bright Lights.”

  My mouth waters at the sight of him in the coat, with the stethoscope hanging over his bare chest. I’ve never had doctor fantasies, but something about the way he looks now triggers a wave of longing so fierce I have to swallow a moan.

  “What’s next?” He clenches his jaw, stares down at me, and I see a flicker of the old dominant Chris glint in his eyes.

  “Well . . .” I lift the scrub pants from the table, a purchase from a secondhand store that I made on my way home. “You’ll need to put these on. Street clothes aren’t allowed in the patient rooms, as I’m sure you remember.” I reach for his belt, and he grabs my wrist, holds it so tightly my eyes water.

  “Go slow.”

  Slow? I am almost giddy that he’s let me take him this far, so much that I want to tear off his clothes, throw him on the floor, and . . .

  “Not that slow.” The slight rise in the timbre of his voice scatters my thoughts and I shake my head.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Taylor.” I tug open his belt, undo the button, and lower the zipper of his fly. My mouth waters in anticipation. God, it’s been so long.

  Carefully, I ease his jeans over his hips, kneeling to draw them down over his legs. His shaft tents his boxers, and I am almost desperate to take a little lick.

  Chris steps out of his jeans, his bare feet almost hidden by the thick pile of the carpet. A few weeks before he was laid off, he fucked me so hard on the carpet I had a rug burn that stung for days, and I loved it.

  “These need to come off.” Still kneeling on the floor, I reach for his boxers.

  “You’re a very naughty nurse, aren’t you?” he says as I draw them carefully over his erection.

  “No, sir.” A smile tugs at my lips as I slide his boxers over his hips, holding them for him to step out. “I’m just doing my job. You can’t tend patients if you’re not properly dressed. It’s hospital policy.”

  “And you can’t tend patients in that hat.” He reaches down and unclips the hat from my head. “That’s better. It looked like a sail. Patients might be worried you’d blow away in the breeze.” He gently runs his hand through my hair and my eyes close. A shudder runs through my body, every nerve firing at once, trying to soak up the feel of his caress as the steady, sultry beat of the Weekend’s “Earned It” ripples through me.

  I missed you.

  “Nurse Taylor?” His gentle tone pulls me out of my head. I open my eyes and look up to see a curious longing in his eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “Was there anything else you needed to do down there?”

  My gaze drops to his erection and I lick my lips. “I should probably deal with this, Dr. Taylor. I believe you aren’t allowed to bring any nonmedical items into the patient rooms.”

  “How do you propose to do that, you little minx?”

  “I could kiss it better.” I cup his balls in my hand, roll them gently in my palm as I lean forward and press a soft kiss to his erection.

  His hand tightens in my hair and his thick thighs go rigid. “This is highly inappropriate. I suspect it is against hospital policy.”

  “I have an obligation to ensure you are properly attired, sir. The scrubs won’t fit properly in your current condition.”

  Chris chuckles. “I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of you doing your job.” He tugs me gently toward his cock, and I lean forward and take him all in, as far as I can go, stopping only when he hits the back of my throat and my gag reflex kicks in.

  “Sweet Jesus.” His breath leaves him in a rush, his cock hardening as I pull away and swirl my tongue over the slick head, tasting the sweet bead of his desire. It feels like forever since I’ve gone down on him. I never thought I’d be this close to him again, or feel this connection. My chest aches as my heart swells inside me.

  Gripping his shaft as tight as I dare, I wrap my mouth around his cock so my lips meet my fist. Tipping my head back to meet his gaze, I move my mouth and hand in a rhythmic motion.

  “Where did you learn that?” His voice sharpens the tiniest bit, and I release him to answer.

  “Books.”

  “Books?” His frown deepens. “What books?”

  “All sorts of books. I wanted to be ready when this day came. I’ve been hot for you forever, Dr. Taylor.” I go down on him hard and fast, savouring the thickness of his cock as it slides in and out of my mouth. My blood rushes downward, making me throb and ache beneath the flimsy thong. Although I’m tempted to put my hand between my legs, stroke myself until I’m slick and ready to come, I slide my hands around his hips to cup his bare ass beneath the lab coat. Possessive. Needy. Mine.

  Chris groans and his fingers tighten around my head. His need for control asserts itself, and he holds me still, rocking his hips rhythmically to fuck my mouth with slow, easy strokes.

  I love it. I love that after all this time, he still wants what I can give. He wants me.

  His body jerks from the force of his climax, his hold on my hair a painful pleasure as he spills down
my throat. I swallow and suck, lick him clean, the salty taste of him so erotic I ache for release.

  “Look at me.” His voice is thick, heavy with desire.

  I look up. Pleasure is etched across his face, smoothing away the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the furrows in his brow.

  “Your face is flushed, Nurse Taylor.”

  I put a hand to my cheek, feel the heat that suffuses my body. “Exertion, sir?”

  “I think you might be ill.” He tilts my head back with a thick finger under my chin. “Your pupils are dilated.”

  “It’s the light.”

  “Hmmm.” He presses a hand to my forehead. “I think you might have a fever.”

  A smile spreads across my face, and I grab the scrubs. “Maybe I’m too hot to handle.”

  “Not for me.” He takes the scrubs and pulls them on, tying them loosely around his waist. With firm hands on my shoulders, he urges me to my feet. “I think I’d better examine you properly. We can’t have you attending to patients if you’re sick.”

  He’s into it now. I can see the change in the set of his shoulders, the tense line of his jaw, the spread of his legs, and the firm, unyielding stare.

  Come back to me. Even if only for a night.

  “That’s probably a good idea,” I say, fiddling with the stethoscope. “Would you like to start by listening to my heart?”

  He scowls. “Who is the doctor here?”

  “You are.”

  “That’s right.” Without warning, he scoops me up in his strong arms. “And doctors examine their patients in an examination room. Lucky for you, there is one free upstairs.”

  “I forgot to ask,” I say as he carries me through the room. “What kind of doctor are you?”

  His sensuous mouth curls into a slow, predatory smile. “I’ll let you guess.”

  Chapter Five

  Lily

  Chris lays me on stiff white sheets and looks around the room. I tried to give it a cold, clinical feel, although it wasn’t easy with the rich, dark furniture we bought after our wedding. Hospitals don’t usually have four-poster beds or soft cream carpet, nightstands with modern silver lamps or chairs full of pillows. I cleared off our dressers, putting away the pictures and knickknacks, the receipts and small change, and placed a silver serving tray on the night table to hold Dr. Steadman’s erotic toys.

  “We need some light.” He flips on the overhead lights and turns on the bedside lamps. I cringe under the glare. Although I’m not embarrassed about my body, we’ve always turned the lights down in bed and I feel uncomfortably exposed.

  “I’m going to examine you now, Nurse Taylor. Lie still.” He sits on the bed beside me, his gaze drifting down my body. He is so fully into the role play, I tremble under his scrutiny.

  He starts at the top, sifting through my hair before he cups my head gently in his broad hands. His thumbs trace the circumference of my face, my ears, my cheekbones, and my lips. It’s almost like the first time we were together, when he wanted to memorize me with his hands as much as he wanted to know me inside.

  “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

  Releasing my head, he continues his downward journey, the tips of his fingers skimming down my neck to rest at the pulse at the base of my throat.

  “Rapid pulse.”

  “You have that effect on me.”

  “Hmmm.” He runs his finger over the crescents of my breasts, then gently lifts them from the cups of the corset. “Time for a breast exam.”

  My cheeks burn ever so slightly, but it is nothing compared to the heat that floods my body when he squeezes and massages my breasts. His hands are callused now and excitingly rough on my soft skin.

  “Slight swelling.”

  “Maybe you could kiss them better?”

  “I’m a professional, Nurse Taylor.” He rolls my nipples between his thumb and forefinger until I arch up on the bed.

  “Very sensitive.”

  God, his slightly detached, cool demeanor is doing something to my head. Before Chris was laid off, our lovemaking had a pattern, a familiar, easy rhythm that gave us both satisfaction. But this is something else. New and exciting and oh so erotic.

  “I can treat that right now.” He draws one nipple into his mouth and a moan escapes my lips. It feels so good, so right, and I want more. More hot, wet mouth. More Dr. Taylor.

  “Stay still. This might hurt a bit, but you’ll feel so much better when I’m done.” He holds me down with a firm hand against my hips and sucks and nips, squeezes and licks until my nipples are taut and my breasts are deliciously sore and swollen. I writhe on the bed, wet and aching to have him inside me.

  “Please . . .”

  Chris sighs. “You are not a very good patient. Far too wiggly.” He reaches for the handcuffs and holds them above me, his eyes never leaving mine. “We’d better secure you so I can examine you properly.”

  My body goes entirely still. Chris has never restrained me before. Although we’ve had sex in many ways and many places, he was never interested in using toys or taking our encounters beyond the same positions in the same places.

  As if sensing my hesitation, he leans down until his lips are almost against mine, his breath hot on my skin. “Do you trust me not to hurt you?”

  He did hurt me. For over a year he checked out of our marriage. I’ve never felt lonelier than when we were in the house together with an unbridgeable gap between us. But that was emotional pain. I know he would never harm me physically.

  “Yes.” I tip back my head, trying to close the distance between us, longing for a taste of his sensual mouth. When he backs away, I move to wrap my arms around him, but he catches my wrists and lifts my hands to the head of the bed.

  “Naughty nurses don’t get to touch.” He snaps the cuffs around my wrists, and I instinctively pull against the fuzzy red padding.

  God, what have I done?

  Chris gives a satisfied grunt when it’s clear I can’t get free. He runs his hands over my ribs and stomach, in and out my curves, as if my restraint has loosened his own.

  “I approve of this uniform.” His fingers follow the garter straps one at a time down to the tops of my stockings. I rock my hips, trying to get his fingers where I need them to go.

  “Unfortunately,” he continues, tugging on my thong, “we will have to remove this to finish the exam.” With a quick yank, he tears it away, and I suck in a shocked breath.

  “Nurse Taylor.” He holds the garment in front of me, a stern expression on his face. “This is soaking wet.”

  “I was . . . um, hot.”

  He lifts an eyebrow and picks up the rabbit vibrator from the tray. “Then I think we should take your temperature.”

  “Ah.” I push myself back on the bed. “Maybe you could do it . . . orally like we did—”

  The carnal look in his eyes freezes my tongue. “Knees up. Legs apart.”

  Even though this is Chris, I can’t look at him as I get in position. My mind is caught between role play and reality, and with Chris fully embracing his cold, clinical doctor persona, I am at once aroused and deliciously apprehensive.

  “We’ll start with the examination.” He pushes my legs apart, and I shiver when cool air rushes over my heated center.

  “Are you cold?” He studies me with focused intensity.

  “No.”

  “Excellent.” He slicks his finger through my labia and eases them apart.

  “Chris . . .” Embarrassment floods through me. He’s never touched me like this before. Never studied me so intently, except for the nights he went down on me in the dark.

  “It’s Dr. Taylor to you.” He glides a finger between my buttocks and over my back hole. Not a place anyone has ever touched me before.

  “Chris!”

  “One more time, Nurse Taylor, and you’ll be punished,” he warns. “Now let’s do an internal exam.” He pushes a thick finger deep inside my pussy. My blood turns to molten lava and rushes through my veins. It’s been far t
oo long.

  “Very nice. Very wet. We definitely don’t need any lube.”

  Mortified, I turn my face into my arm as he swirls his finger inside me and then up and onto my clit. My hips jerk and I blurt out, “Oh God.”

  “No, just your neighbourhood doctor.” He glides his fingers through my wetness and over my clit again and again until my pulse is throbbing between my legs.

  “I think you’re ready now.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “The thermometer.” He holds up the vibrator. “Stay in place. This is going to feel cold.”

  Holding my labia apart with one hand, he slides the vibrator inside me and positions the rabbit ears on either side of my clit. Although it isn’t as big as his cock, I let out a groan. The sensation of having something inside me—something so hard and slick—almost sends me over the edge.

  “I think you like having your temperature taken.” A buzz sound, and then the rabbit ears vibrate over my clit, already sensitive from his relentless fingers. My hips come right off the bed and all my nerve endings fire at once.

  Chris chuckles. “I haven’t even turned the main part on.” He presses the button, and the rabbit twists and vibrates inside me.

  “Oh God. Chris. Doctor.” My hands tighten into fists as he thrusts the vibrator in and out until I am writhing, mindless on the bed. His hot, wet mouth closes on my nipple, tonguing it firmly.

  Everything in my body coils and tightens as he slides the vibrator in and out. I shoot into shocking arousal and then I fly.

  Too much. Too hard. Too intense. Too long. The world splinters around me and I shatter. Scream. My pussy contracts around the hard vibrator, and my back arches as exquisite tremors shudder through me.

  Chris continues to pump the vibrator inside me and the sensations go on and on until I go limp, my heart pounding so hard I think I might break a rib.

  “My God. I didn’t know it could be like that.” I gesture to the stethoscope. “Do you want to listen to my heart?”