by Ann Jacobs
“Oh yes, please.”
He bit her, harder, then reached between her legs and pulled aside the belt that held the vibrator and butt plug in place. “Good girl. You’re wet for me. I like that.” Her slick, swollen pussy called out to him. The smell of sex permeated the air around them. Eli’s cock throbbed. But first…
He pulled away and stood up. “Take off the harness. Get up and shower. You can take the dildos out, but leave the clips alone. I want your nipples hot and red, like they are now.” Bending, he took one in his mouth and sucked it, hard.
“Yes, Master.” When she looked at him, he saw desire in her eyes. But also worry. Drawing her close, he kissed her long and hard and sent her to the shower with a terse command, but first he held her gaze long enough to convey that she wasn’t alone in her feelings about last night. Hell, he didn’t want her ever to feel alone.
If he didn’t get dressed and get out of her bed, he wouldn’t be able to resist fucking her again. That wouldn’t do, since he had surgery scheduled in less than an hour and he knew she’d have rounds to make before taking her turn working in the free clinic. Later, he promised himself as he gathered up his scrubs and pulled them on.
How far would Maggie go toward following his orders? Eli intended to find out. Taking a pad he found by the phone on top of her bedside table, he scribbled out his orders, along with a note of apology for stranding her here alone. After laying out the clothes he wanted her to wear, he propped the pad on top of the pile and left his car keys on top. As he hurried out of Maggie’s apartment to grab a taxi, he glanced at his watch.
He’d see her again in less than seven hours unless a problem with a clinic patient brought him to her office or both of them to the ER or surgery. Seven hours until he’d take her to his private place at Rio Brava and put his collar around her slender neck.
He hoped to hell he’d read her right and that she wanted him for a full-time Master, not just a quick, handy lay.
And maybe the amazing would happen and they’d decide they needed each other forever. He had a worrisome but unexpectedly pleasurable feeling that keeping her would make his own life whole in a way he’d never known.
* * * * *
“What’s got you smiling, Eli?”
Mark Blackstone, the senior partner in their practice, was sprawled in an overstuffed chair when Eli came into the surgeons’ lounge, stripped off his mask and gloves and tossed them in the trash. “Mooney’s breastbone and rib reconstruction went a lot better than I expected. Looks like I may get to escape this afternoon, earlier than I’d thought. You done for the day?”
“No such luck. A construction worker up in Fredericksburg just cut off three of his fingers with a circular saw. I’m taking a breather while they airlift him here and get him prepped for surgery.”
“Looks like you’ll be here awhile.” Eli often wondered how Mark managed his killer schedule with the gimpy leg that often had him limping after long hours in the OR.
“Yeah. Lynn’s going to have a fit. We were supposed to take the kids over to Kurt and Shelly’s for dinner.”
“Maybe Kurt won’t be able to make it either.” Eli had seen their other partner early this morning when they shared coffee and rolls in the cafeteria. “He’s got a case going on now that may take him the better part of the day, or so he said. Shattered femur, courtesy of last night’s bull-riding event at the local rodeo. Guess I’ll be the only one making it to the office to take appointments.”
“Probably. Some days…” Mark shook his head. “If we hadn’t all been suckers for punishment, we wouldn’t have gone into specialties where almost every case is an emergency. The carpal tunnel release I just finished was a rare, scheduled pleasure.”
“You do know, don’t you, that if you and Kurt weren’t so damn good at reattaching limbs, you could get the occasional evening and weekend off?” Eli was good, too, but he wasn’t the only thoracic surgeon on staff who could handle serious chest injuries. This weekend, Bill Everett had first call. “I don’t have that problem, for which I’m eternally grateful, especially today.”
“Lucky SOB. So that nurse who said she saw a hot-looking, third-year resident driving your SUV into the parking lot this morning wasn’t mistaken after all? Could it be our last bachelor’s about to bite the dust?”
Eli didn’t know about that. The notion that he could persuade Maggie to go for more than kinky sex might be way off base. “You’ll be the first to know if that ever happens. Margaret and I worked together last night, with Kurt and one of the ortho residents. The patient bled out. She kept saying that if I’d been there before she opened his chest, we could have saved him. I didn’t think she ought to be left alone, so I took her for a drink to calm her down. She was still pretty shaky, so I drove her home and left her with my car so she could get to work today.”
That was the truth, even if the timing of his departure wasn’t quite true. It was bad enough that his mother stayed on his back about settling down. He didn’t need himself or Maggie becoming gossip fodder for the entire damn hospital staff.
“Thought you might have had a better night than I did. Lynn and I’ve hit the ten-year mark, and in a good many ways our relationship’s gone stale.” Mark paused when the slapping sounds of helicopter blades began resounding from a pad outside the ER. “Not that I don’t still love her, because I do. That’s probably the unlucky construction worker now. I’d better start getting ready for a marathon—that is, if the severed fingers are in any shape to try to reattach.”
“Do you ever hope they won’t be?”
Mark grinned as he got up and stretched. “Nope. I love my work, even when it interferes with my love life. Have a little extra fun for me. I’d better call Lynn and give her the bad news.”
“Okay. I’ll be seeing everybody’s post-op patients in the office until about three,” Eli said, hoping to hell nothing would come up to keep him from Maggie a minute longer than necessary.
* * * * *
Margaret was glad it was Friday, a quiet day in the free clinic with no surgeries on the schedule and only a few patients scheduled for thoracic surgery consultations. She almost wished for an emergency, anything that would take her mind off Eli and the provocative message he’d left, a message now tucked neatly into the pocket of her lab coat. Sending her last scheduled patient on his way, she went into one of the small cubicles that served as offices for specialty residents when they came to the Clinic.
What was she getting herself into, tearing down boundaries she’d set, boundaries that clearly said work and play don’t mix. Taking Eli as her Master could hurt her, destroy the hard-won self control that made her a good surgeon. Her old Master had fit into a small compartment of her life, a secret space she’d never let interfere with her public persona. Eli would invade her whole life…usurp the time when she could pretend she was in total control.
It was inevitable, she supposed, that the afterglow of such an amazing night couldn’t hold out long against her worries. This was a whole new book she and Eli had opened up between them. Taking a Master who was a big part of her professional life was bound to result in some complications. And anxieties.
Taking his note out of the pocket of her lab coat, she re-read the instructions he’d left for her. Yes. He was an overwhelmingly intuitive Dom in that he’d given her something to distract her, orders as precise as his instructions when he talked her through a new procedure. Her cunt contracted and her nipples began to tingle.
He could get her hot without even being in the same building, and she couldn’t have that. Stuffing the note back into her pocket, she tried to concentrate on something—anything—but the man who’d imprinted himself indelibly on her mind.
She picked up a group photo taken of her and Dale with her parents and sister last year. Unlike Dale, a general contractor who’d been self-educated and a little rough around the edges, Eli would fit in well with her conservative, academically inclined family members. Not that they wouldn’t find some fault
with him. As much as she loved her mom and dad, she’d learned they couldn’t be pleased. Fifteen-hundred SATs should have been perfect ones, magna cum laudes should have been summas. Her number-three ranking in med school would only have pleased them if it had been number one.
They’d fault Eli for something, she was certain. Who was she kidding? Her parents wouldn’t approve of Eli a whole lot more than they’d liked Dale. She could almost hear her mother whining that Eli didn’t look like a doctor, that he was too big, too muscular, too authoritatively male. No way was he at all like the quiet, scholarly neighbor boy her parents had always encouraged her to seek out as a mate. Maybe, just maybe, she’d never have to introduce them.
Wishful thinking, Margaret. No way would Eli let her shove him into the sex compartment of her life and exclude him from the rest. He’d proven this last night, in spades, that he might very well resist every attempt she might make to run things with that overwhelming, masterful hand of his. But would he keep the respect he’d always shown her as a doctor? His friendship and his mentoring of her residency meant as much as what they’d shared last night.
She didn’t have to think about that now. Or about whether she’d impress Eli’s mother who, if hospital gossip was accurate, was on a perpetual mission to pair her son with one of a string of her friends’ daughters. Margaret pulled out Eli’s note and read it again.
Sub, hell. From what he’d written, she gathered Eli intended that she be his slave. If she could have, she’d have ignored the note. But she couldn’t. He’d gambled she’d go all the way to find satisfaction, and he’d been right on.
The note had caught her eye the moment she’d come out of the shower, sore but supremely satisfied. Disappointed that he’d left, even though she knew he had an early surgery call, she’d followed each scribbled order. She’d made a conscious effort to ignore the small voice in her head that kept questioning her sanity. But she couldn’t help appreciating the thought he’d expressed about the underwear he’d picked for her to wear. I’ll be thinking about you wearing these things, getting hard. Counting the hours until I can take them off you. Take you completely, in every way.
“By the way, Dr. Berman, you look sexy in that dress,” the unit clerk had said when she arrived at the hospital for Friday clinics. She’d sounded surprised. So surprised it made her self-conscious until she found a lab coat. Usually she wore the sleeveless Kelly green sheath with a matching jacket, but Eli had specifically ordered her not to wear it.
She felt sexy. How could she not when she had her tall, muscular new Master set firmly in her mind?
Eli had to have known she’d feel exposed in the satin half-bra and matching garter belt he chose for her, especially since he’d strictly forbidden her to put on panties. The lace tops of sheer thigh-high stockings abraded her inner thighs when she walked on the spike-heeled black pumps he’d set on the bed. She never wore high heels to work. Well, she guessed she did now since he’d commanded it. Wiggling her toes inside the shoes, she willed her feet to stop hurting. He had to have been sending a deliberate message because he knew the heels were impractical. A message that she was to consider his will before her own, accept the pain along with the prospect of ecstasy to come.
Good thing the lab coat covered up her nipples that showed up rock hard and obvious through her lightweight bra and dress. At least Eli had been thoughtful enough to order that she take off the nipple clamps he’d put on her before her shower.
Would he come by her office early? Sometimes he did, if he had time, to check over charts of patients she’d seen. If he came today, she imagined he would want proof she’d obeyed him to the letter. Her cunt clenched when she imagined Eli slipping a hand under her skirt. If he did he’d discover she had shaved her pussy as per his order. Cool air from a floor grate slithered up her legs, reminded her how much more sensitive her private flesh was now, devoid of hair.
She smiled when she thought about it. She was soft there now, as soft as his muscular chest and abdomen. She liked that he had so little body hair, guessed he kept himself smooth because of the body-building contests she’d heard he entered on a regular basis.
Feeling her bare pussy wouldn’t be enough, she thought. He’d insert two long, thick fingers in her cunt, rewarding her with a tweak of her G-spot when he discovered she’d found and inserted the diaphragm he’d suggested. He’d have her open her mouth, check out the round silver barbell she’d inserted in her tongue in place of the clear, flat disk she usually wore to keep the piercing open. She could hardly wait to take him in her mouth, rub the ball over his thick, swollen cock head.
“Wear a piece of real tongue jewelry, not that retainer, but remember not to let anyone else see it,” he’d written. Clamping her mouth shut, she rubbed the ball slowly against her palate. It felt good, made her eager to run her tongue over every inch of Eli’s hard, hot body, experience the vibrations when the ball in her tongue collided with the ends of the barbell securing his Ampellang.
The mock turtleneck collar of her dress hid a love bite just below her hairline at the back of her neck. Gently she found and rubbed the swollen flesh. He must have noticed the small injury and considered it when choosing this dress, a small concession to propriety and professionalism. Just thinking of it calmed some of her other worries. The dress was evidence that he recognized their need for discretion. That he was thoughtful, considerate of her feelings and their respective positions. A quality her old Master had never demonstrated.
And then, in contrast to that, she thought of things far from the realm of respect and discretion. Like Eli taking her, making her take his hot flesh into her mouth and cunt and anus. Her juices began to flow, heating and soothing her well-used, stretched tissues.
Good thing the attendings hadn’t called for Grand Rounds today. She’d have had a hell of a time reviewing a case with the tongue ring in her mouth. Tentatively, she slid her tongue across her upper lip, gauging the weight of the tongue ring. It was heavier than the one she’d worn for her old Master’s pleasure, heavy enough to make her diction less distinct. And it gave her voice a seductive sounding edge. She could hardly wait until the day was done, so she could go to Eli. Serve him.
His two final orders awaited her attention. “At precisely three thirty p.m., insert this vibrator in your pretty cunt, and think about how much better it will feel when it’s my cock in there instead. Don’t come, though. Your orgasms all belong to me.”
Margaret glanced at her watch. Three twenty. If she hurried, she could make it to the ladies’ room in time. Purse in hand, she walked purposefully to the restroom and locked the door, then fished out the vibrator, an egg-shaped, purple gel device she’d bought but never used. Her earlier examination showed it was electronic, but since it had no switch, it was obvious that it was remotely controlled. Since most remote control toys required proximity, it made her shudder to think Eli might arrange to be close enough, somewhere within a few yards of that restroom door, in order to control her pleasure. Hiking up her tight skirt and spreading her legs, she inserted it, pushing it as high up in her vagina as she could manage with her fingers.
She was already wet. And hot. How could she do this and function like the calm professional she was supposed to be? Especially when Eli got around to setting the vibrator in motion?
She had no choice. Her inner muscles clenched to keep the egg securely where she’d put it, and she stepped hesitantly out of the privacy of the restroom, glancing down the hall both ways then making for her office as quickly as she could without dislodging the vibrator.
Having the thing fall out and bounce merrily down the hallway would not be funny. Well, it would be, but it would also prove highly embarrassing if her nurse or one of the first-year residents saw it happen. At some point she’d have to establish some ground rules for their relationship, but at the moment her overworked libido compelled her to follow Eli’s last orders.
Just as she’d begun to believe she could control the needy sensations that snak
ed through her body, the vibrator began to gyrate. It wiggled back and forth, around and around, its buzz inaudible but transmitted from her cunt straight to her already overloaded brain. Even though she tried to control herself, she breathed hard as she walked carefully down the hall to her office. She found concentrating on the latest JAMA journal totally impossible, no matter how hard she tried to focus on what should have been an interesting article on a new technique for resecting diseased lungs.
As time went on, the gentle vibrations grew stronger. She squirmed in her chair, glanced at the wall clock. Damn, she still had to sit here another hour or more. Reading was really a lost cause now. She gave up, and stared at Eli’s message—his last command.
Could she? Dare she declare her subservience to a colleague? Acknowledge his control over her private life? Could she be his slave in the bedroom and his equal outside it?
Would Eli want to flaunt their relationship? Margaret didn’t think so, but she couldn’t help remembering Dale and the gold collar he’d given her. He’d taken pleasure in attaching a black leather leash to it when he felt like leading her around the public dungeons. Once when they were on vacation where no one they knew was likely to see them, he’d even made her walk along with him on a public street, as though she’d been a pet bitch. She’d felt that horribly degrading yet strangely erotic, worse than the worst spankings he’d often administered behind closed doors until she screamed with the pleasure-pain of it.