The Doctor and the Naughty Girl

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The Doctor and the Naughty Girl Page 13

by Evans, Trent


  He opened his legs and let her slide to her knees.

  “Hands behind your back, girl.”

  She complied quickly, and he caressed her cheek as she looked up at him, her eyes tear-bright, the pupils wide, her wet pink lips bitten a swollen, alluring red. He said nothing as he looked down upon her, his fingers working open his fly, finally freeing the tortured length of his cock. He wrapped a fist about the base, the pleasure of it making him shudder. Her gaze dropped to it and her eyes went wide.

  “Oh, my God…”

  He fisted a hand in her long, dark hair, pulling her head up a little, making her wince.

  “If you’re good next time, I’ll let you take it in your mouth.” He smiled again as she licked her lips. “But tonight, just a kiss, Amity.”

  He brought her closer, making her strain against the grip on her hair as she reached for him, her soft, warm lips just touching the swollen head, the bright wetness at the tip sticking to her lower lip, her pink tongue licking it away immediately.

  Dane stood then, unable to bear it any longer, drawing her up by her hair. He plucked her up into his arms, turning and dropping her to the bed, laying her out on her back. Her eyes showed the hurt even the touch of the comforter caused her punished bottom.

  “Reach back and grab the headboard, Amity. And God help you if you let go until I tell you.”

  Her arms flew back, the delicate hands wrapping around one of the slats there, holding tight. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, her swollen mouth open, those pretty blue eyes following his every move. He slapped both of her thighs.

  “Get them wide. I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

  She spread them until the cords of her inner thighs stood taut. His fingers traced the trembling lines of muscle as he knelt between her legs, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, his cock bobbing heavy in front of him. He pulled his shirt off, and her eyes flashed, her gaze dropping to his chest. Lying over her, his cock touched the silky curls of her mound, the impossibly soft skin of the join of her thigh, then he pressed the head to her clit, working it there a moment, before forcing apart the plump labia and sliding the tip up and down through her wet heat. He wanted to draw this out, to test her, to make sure she never forgot the first time with him.

  But his arousal won out over his restraint and he plunged within her, deep, deep, her eyes rolling back as he took up a steady, firm thrusting. He normally liked taking his woman from behind, enjoying the sight and feel of her bottom as he fucked her, but this was different. He didn’t want her to be able to hide, to shield herself. He wanted all of her, all of her reactions, to look upon this beautiful woman as he took her, claimed her for himself.

  Dane clasped her chin, a proprietary grip, and he kissed her, stealing her breath from her as his tongue thrust deep, as he nipped and sucked those too-swollen lips.

  “God, yes,” she moaned, as he tilted her head back, exposing the length of her slim throat. He fell upon it too, kissing and nipping the soft flesh, the softness of his tongue and lips soothing the hurt of his little bites. He kissed down her throat until he met the rise of her breasts. He took each one in hand, squeezing them harshly, giving the steel-hard nipples the edges of his teeth, then the broad flat of his tongue, the deep, hard sucking of her pink nipples making her groan, her body writhing beneath him, her hips lifting to him even as he thrust into her harder, the slaps of flesh on flesh growing louder.

  “You… don’t come… until I say,” he growled at her at each deep thrust, the head of his cock touching the mouth of her womb at each stroke.

  “Yes, sir! Oh, fuck, please!”

  The desperation in her voice made him thunder into her all the harder, her body shaking beneath him. He took her lips again, and she met his kisses with an animalistic fervor that rocketed his arousal even higher, her moans now almost snarls, her teeth catching his lip between them, the bright, hot pain lost in the bliss of her cunt squeezing down upon his thrusting cock ever harder. He took hold of her hair again and wrenched her head back. His lips moving against her throat as she moaned, her body shuddering under the power of his thrusting.

  “Come now, Amity. Give it to me!”

  She cried out, arching up, her breasts calling to him. He took a nipple deep into his mouth, holding onto her as she bucked beneath him, each snap of her hips accompanied by a strangled cry. Her cunt clamped him hard, over and over, and he could resist no more, pushing deep, his muscles spasming as his seed poured forth, his long, lost groan ripped from him as his climax washed over him, his vision fading to black as it overcame him.

  Then he lay next to her, taking each of her hands in his, bringing them down, holding her to his chest as he pressed kisses to her cheeks, her nose, to her eyes as they leaked tears once more. She turned to him, her leg hooking over the top of his hip, the heat of her sex pressed to his thigh, her hips even then rolling in subtle circles against him.

  Dane pulled her head to his chest, the shaking of her body fading as she huddled close to him. He breathed in the clean, soft scent of her hair.

  “Sleep now, girl. I’ve got you.”

  * * *

  She awoke next to him, their limbs entangled, his steady, slow breathing telling her he was still fast asleep. The lights had been turned out, and Dane had taken the rest of his clothes off. Somehow her heels had been removed too. His heavy arm pulled her closer and he murmured something against her back, his soft genitals a comforting weight against the curve of her bottom. She thought she could lie like that forever if given the chance, his arms around her making her feel safer than she ever had before.

  Her face heated then as she remembered all they’d done, at the animalistic way he’d taken her, and how she’d responded, how the big cock had stretched her, how he’d fucked her the way she’d only dared dream of in her most fevered fantasies. He’d been more than she’d ever hoped for.

  Now, she had to figure out what the hell came next. She wasn’t sure how any of it would work. Would she have to quit, or could they keep this quiet? Amity pictured herself at the office, watching the way he walked, remembering how those hips had moved as he fucked her, as he slammed into her over and over again, the depth of his thrusts, the feel of all that masculine strength taking her breath away.

  No, work was going to be a problem. She couldn’t quit though. She needed the money, the independence. Most of all though, she needed to be close to him, now more than ever—no matter whether it was professional or wrong or right. That didn’t matter now. She smiled as she pressed her bottom back against him pulling his arm tighter around her, and drifted off to sleep.

  She awoke sometime later, only half aware as he pulled her to her knees, the heat of his huge erection laid across her bottom as he pressed her head to the mattress, his words an unintelligible growl, brooking no defiance, the tone of them demanding one thing.

  Obedience.

  And she gladly gave him what he wanted, moaning into the sheets as the thick cock slid even deeper this time, making her shudder each time it pushed hard, her tissues stretching once more. His hand was in her hair then, controlling her like a bridle, a harsh slap to her ass and a growled order to be still as she pushed her hips back. He took her then, the ride long and hard, his passion lasting much longer the second time around, pounding into her until she was nearly delirious with need, begging, pleading. He came then, pressing her hard to the bed, a flutter of his fingertips over her clit sending her over too, her screams muffled by the fisted sheets she clenched between her teeth. Both of them collapsed to the mattress then, their sweaty bodies sliding together, their breath coming down, sleep taking them both swiftly once more.

  When he brought her back to her car, it was almost four in the morning, her body humming with both delicious soreness and a depleted, dreamy lassitude. He leaned over her open window, looking down upon her with a fond smile belied by his drawn face, dark hollows below his eyes. The exhaust from her idling car billowed up around him as she warmed the car up.

&nbs
p; “What—what happens now?” She laid a hand over his, where he grasped the door. “How do we do this? Work?”

  Dane shrugged, turning his hand in hers so that he clasped her fingers in his. “Play it by ear. Do you want anything to change?”

  She thought about that for a moment. Part of her was actually worried that what happened last night at his house would… end what had happened at the office beforehand. The truth was she wanted both, embarrassing as that was to admit to herself.

  Why did she want to be disciplined?

  She shook her head, looking down, feeling the heat at her face once more. “I… I think I’d like things to stay the same.”

  Dane dropped to a knee, his eyes level with hers. “Be careful what you wish for, bad girl.”

  Her heart fluttered at the words even as her nipples hardened again, her body continuing to betray her.

  His grin was equal parts fond and rapacious. “I think I can give you what you want.” He stood, gently slapping the top of her car. “Go home and get some sleep.”

  “But I have to work, right?”

  “You won’t do us much good if you’re nodding off on the job. We’ll cover for you for a few hours at least.”

  “Okay.” She smiled at him in gratitude. “Thank you.”

  The hollows under his eyes seemed to amplify the glint she saw in his gaze. “My kindness is going to cost you though. But we’ll settle that account on another day, I think.”

  Oh, shit.

  “What about you? You’ve gotta be wrecked.”

  Dane looked like he was ready to keel over, truth be told.

  “I’ve been worse off. Hell, I’d have killed for this much sleep when I was a resident.” His wry smile betrayed his fatigue though. He stepped away from her car, pointing at her. “Go home. And no texting and driving.”

  “Yes, sir,” she murmured, smiling at him as she rolled her window up.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dane pushed the bar up with a grunt, his arms shaking on the last rep. Cathie stepped close, her hands taking hold of the bar, ready to spot him. He racked the bar, finally, wondering if Cathie cared that all he could see were the swells of her breasts as she stood over him.

  He sat up on the bench, elbows on his thighs. Cathie threw his towel at him, sitting on the bench next to his, leaning an arm on the empty barbell on its rack. Her body was encased in a skin-tight black jogging suit, the muscular thighs exposed, the top of the suit a brief tank that showed off the woman’s toned arms and shoulders. Her blond plaits were pulled back into a tight ponytail, not a hair seeming out of place despite the backbreaking workout they were in the middle of.

  “You’re losing it, tough guy. I’ve seen girls bench more than that.” She winked at him. “Hard to attract any female attention when you’re throwing around pathetic weight like that.”

  Dane wiped his chin with his towel. “Do you ever get weirded out by the fact we’re together so often people think we’re a couple?”

  “Do you ever get weirded out by the fact that I use my hunky boss like a honeypot to lure attractive girls?”

  He laughed. “Umm, I’m not sure why—you’re only attracting straight chicks.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that, genius. Get off that bench. It’s my turn.” Cathie looked up at him as he took off some of the plates, reducing the weight. “Show me a hundred submissive women who profess to being exclusively straight, and I’ll show you ninety-nine liars.”

  “Not lacking in self-confidence, this one.”

  She grinned. “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true. Now spot me.”

  As Cathie whipped through her set of bench presses, he thought of Amity. It was Sunday, and he wondered what she was doing right at that moment, if she was even thinking about what had happened, thinking about him.

  Dane wasn’t sure what came next. Maybe she’d come to her senses and realize it probably wasn’t the best idea to be fucking her boss. It might even be easier that way.

  “Hey, wake up!” Cathie slapped him on the chest. “You ready for cardio?”

  She stood with her hands on her hips, breathing hard, her breasts heaving in a way Dane attempted—and usually failed—not to notice.

  “Aww, isn’t he cute? Trying not to check out the girls.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to an exaggerated murmur. “I’ll pull the top down a little if you want. Give you a better view.”

  Dane rolled his eyes. “Puh-lease.”

  Cathie laughed, shoving his shoulder. “We need to get you laid, doc. Staring at the tits on the local lesbos puts you firmly in Desperate-ville.”

  “Getting laid’s no longer an issue,” he said over his shoulder as they made their way up the steps toward the cardio area on the second floor.

  “You… her?” Cathie’s voice sobered. “You mean you actually fucked her?”

  “This is a surprise to you?”

  They found two treadmills next to each other, the hum of their motors cranking up as they began to walk.

  “I wasn’t sure. Figured you might just be getting your rocks off on being Mr. Disciplinarian with her.”

  He watched her gaze subtly sweep the cardio area. At least two women, one of them a quite attractive older blonde, her legs pumping away on an elliptical machine, were looking their way. He shook his head.

  “What’s wrong with being the disciplinarian?”

  “Oh, nothing at all.” Cathie’s smile was the cat who got the cream. “Believe me, I get off on it too, given the right girl.”

  “And what kind would that be?”

  Cathie sped up her treadmill, moving smoothly into a loping, breast-bouncing jog.

  “The kind who don’t know how deep it goes. The ones who’re afraid—and curious. Sound like anyone you might know?”

  * * *

  She couldn’t stop watching him. Amity knew she had to keep it together, be professional, be an adult, but with every passing hour it was getting harder and harder.

  Let’s hope his cock is too.

  Every time he’d come up to the lobby—which had seemed more often than usual—she’d watch him, remembering. His touch, the rumble of his voice, the feel of his cock stretching her tissues, how his body felt next to hers as he held her deep into the night. It hardly seemed real anymore, as if it were a vivid dream she feared would fade by the minute.

  But it hadn’t been. The bruises across the lower curves of her ass she still stared dreamily at in the mirror each morning attested to that. It had happened, and it was all she could think about.

  Yet as the day wore on, she grew more and more frustrated. He hadn’t said one word to her other than what he’d needed to for the job. He hadn’t even so much as looked her way! Was he just someone who used women? A conquest for him to be discarded when the next pretty thing caught his eye?

  Calm down, Amity. I don’t think the man would risk his entire livelihood for just a piece of strange.

  “Fuck this,” she muttered under her breath, pulling her phone out of her coat pocket.

  She thumbed through her text messages—several from Kaitlyn she still needed to answer—and found his text from the day she worked at his home office. She typed in a text, her thumb hovering over the send button just a moment, the tiny voice at the back of her mind telling her she was being stupid. Then she pressed send, her frustration winning out.

  Do you plan to even acknowledge what happened Friday?

  Amity waited for what seemed like several minutes, her pulse pounding harder and harder. Was he really not even going to respond?

  “I can’t believe this,” she said, her nails clicking louder against the screen as she sent another text.

  Well?? WTF, Dane!

  She glared at the screen as if she could will a response to appear. But nothing came.

  The front door opened, and Mrs. Fletcher, her long blond hair wrapped in a striking red scarf, walked in. Amity shot one last frustrated, futile look at her phone before she shoved it back into he
r purse, and plastered on an Oscar-worthy smile for the woman taking one of the lobby seats.

  Amity was about to dial Cathie’s extension to let her know Mrs. Fletcher was in, when the door to Exam opened, Dane’s long arm swinging it wide. He wore a crisp white shirt that set off the tanned skin of his neck, the cut jaw and strong chin, and the dark shock of his hair.

  “Come on back, Mrs. Fletcher. Ultrasound shouldn’t take us too long today.”

  “Thank you, doctor.” Mrs. Fletcher, quite a pretty woman, Amity noticed with an insane flash of possessiveness, gave Dane a warm smile as she slipped by him and down the hall.

  Before he followed, Dane locked his gaze with hers, his mouth a hard straight line.

  Oh, shit. He read it.

  Amity swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly bone dry.

  He stared at her for a few seconds more, his hazel eyes now dark, fire smoldering in his gaze. Then his lips quirked into a half smile, and he walked back to exam.

  It took fifteen minutes before her hands stopped shaking, her entire body tense. He’d read it, that was clear, but his reaction confused her. Was he pleased she sent it? Or angry and enjoying letting her stew and worry?

  Damn him.

  But she didn’t see him for the rest of the shift. A morose mood was descending over her as she turned the lock on the front door, watching through the big plate-glass windows a moment as Cathie walked back toward the parking garage, the nurse clutching her white coat tight around her.

  Dane still hadn’t left, which meant…

  She heard the muffled tone of an incoming text. She strode around the desk as fast as her heels would let her—another high-heel day, hoping someone, anyone, might notice—then plucked the phone from her purse.

  It was him.

  Make sure the front door is locked, then walk back to Exam One.

  Her heart pounded all the way up into her throat as she made her way down the hall and through the exam area, stopping and looking around for Dane. She walked down the line of exam rooms, the numeral 1 looming larger and larger as she drew near. She opened the door to find Dane leaning against the little counter, his arms crossed over his chest. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, the muscles of his forearms bulging. He gave her a slight nod, and she closed the door.

 

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