Dr Stanton

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Dr Stanton Page 44

by T L Swan


  He hisses in approval and sits back, rearranging the erection in his pants. “Fucking yes,” he whispers.

  I get on my knees in front of him and hit play on my phone. The sexy beat plays out.

  His eyes widen.

  “Somebody told me that I suck a good lollipop,” I whisper.

  His eyes widen as he glues the puzzle pieces together. “Owen has a big mouth.”

  I giggle as I pull him forward in the chair aggressively and spread his legs.

  In slow motion, I unzip his pants as my eyes hold his. His mouth hangs open as he watches me and the backs of his fingertips dust my face.

  “How can I service you tonight, sir?” I whisper as I kiss his cock.

  He flexes it in approval.

  I lick the length of him and close my eyes. God, he’s so fucking hot.

  This beautiful body is all mine, and I intend to take full advantage of it.

  I run my tongue over the tip and his eyes never leave me, as if he has to watch every single moment of this to believe it’s real.

  I continue to tease him with my tongue, doing everything I can to drive him wild except for taking him fully in my mouth. His breath is catching and he is lifting off the seat toward my mouth. His eyes are flicking between the mirror and me.

  I tear his legs farther apart and cup his balls in my hand. Pre-ejaculate is seeping from his end.

  God’s gift to women.

  “Suck me,” he eventually moans. “Fucking suck me, Ashley.”

  I smile against his cock as my eyes search his. “Make me.”

  The song starts again on repeat.

  His eyes flash with delight. He knows I want to be dominated. I want him to take me how he wants me.

  He feeds his cock into my mouth and grabs the back of my head, pushing me down onto him. Hmm, tastes so good.

  He sits back and watches us in the mirror as he pushes me down onto him before his eyes close from the pleasure. God, he’s close already. I can feel it.

  I suck as hard as I can, and it would have to be near painful for him. Finally, he moans and throws his head back.

  “Putain d'enfer, tu fais si bien, bébé.” He moans.

  Translation. Fucking hell, you do that so good, baby.

  My eyes close. As soon as he starts talking dirty in French, I’m gone.

  Mind and body overload.

  His hand tenderly stokes my hair as he watches on.

  I start to stroke him with my hand as my mouth sucks hard, and he convulses in pleasure as his body lifts off the seat to meet me.

  “Ride me.” He growls. “Ride my cock now.”

  Before I can respond, he’s lifted me and is ripping my shorts off, tearing my top over my shoulders. He turns me to face the mirror and pulls me back, spreading my legs before he impales me in one swift movement.

  We stay still, our eyes locked on each other in the mirror, our breaths quivering as we try to hold off from our orgasms. I’m instantly transported back to the club when I desperately wanted to do this.

  His hands take control of my hips and he circles me around him to open me up.

  This is so hot, seeing my naked body spread out for his pleasure in the mirror. Seeing his thick cock slide into my body.

  I will never get enough of this—get enough of this beautiful man beneath me.

  Of this beautiful cock and how close it brings me to him.

  He lifts me and brings me back down, forcing me to close my eyes.

  “Spread your legs, Bloss. I need it hard, baby.” He growls.

  I don’t know if I will even last two pumps with this visual in front of me. His two hands grab my pelvis and he starts to lift me and bring me back down hard. He bites my neck and I cry out.

  He watches over my shoulder in the mirror. This is ridiculously hot.

  The sight of us it spurs him on, and he starts to bounce me up and down with force.

  “Knees up.” He growls.

  Oh shit, I don’t know if I can take him like that. He’s too big.

  “Cam…” I whisper.

  “Get your fucking knees up, Ashley,” he snaps as he grabs my ankles.

  I bring my knees up and he circles into me deep. My body shudders and, sensing my oncoming orgasm, he rides me hard. Up, down, in and out, and oh so fucking good.

  The friction is shredding me, burning me—his cock is turning me inside out.

  I bounce high and he grabs my shoulders from behind to hold me deep. I cry out as my orgasm rips through my body and he tips his head back and moans a guttural sound as his body reaches its own climax.

  He turns me and kisses me over my shoulder, softly and tenderly. I smile against him.

  Instant perfection.

  “Hope you’re in the mood for pain, Bloss.” He smiles.

  I giggle and he lifts me. His body is still in mine when takes me over and bends me over the bed, penetrating me deeper.

  His lips drop to my neck. “You’re in for a hard night.”

  I sit with my hand on Cameron’s thigh as he sits deep in thought, completing his crossword. Owen is upfront playing with the other kids.

  We are on board the Stanton private plane on our way to Vegas with Joshua, Adrian, Natasha, all the kids, and three nannies. Jenna even came at Cameron’s insistence; they really do like each other. The boys are going to be busy, so Tash, Jenna, and I are going to go out on the town one of the nights. I wasn’t really keen, to be honest, but Tash and Jenna talked me into it. I would rather have stayed home, but they wanted a girl’s night out.

  Jenna and Tash have gotten to know each other from Tash’s visits to our house. They have become firm friends.

  10AK NIGHTCLUB

  I stand in the crowded club as I wait for Tash and Jenna at the bar. Security is as tight as always. Natasha’s guards are never far away. I glance around to see them at their stations against the wall.

  “Hey, good looking. Do you want to dance?” a man asks.

  I glance around. Shit, where are the girls? “Ah, no thanks.” I smile. “I’m just waiting for my friends.”

  “But you look so hot.” He grabs my arm and I pull it out of his grip.

  “I said no, thank you,” I snap.

  “What’s your problem?” He sneers.

  “No problem. I just don’t want to dance.” Frigging hell. Buzz off, douche.

  Cameron appears. Oh thank God. He stands next to the man and looks between us, sensing my apprehension. “Is there a problem here?” he asks.

  “Who are you?” the guy snaps.

  I start to look around. Where are the bloody security guards when you need them?

  “None of your business,” Cameron snaps.

  Oh shit. I look around. Security? Hello? You’re kind of needed over here.

  “Is this dead shit your husband?” He frowns.

  Bloody hell. “No, this is my…” I start to reply, but as I turn back to Cameron, I find him crouched down on bended knee with a ring held out in his hands.

  My eyes widen.

  “I’d like to be your husband for real.” He smiles up at me. “This time in Vegas, things will be different.”

  My world stops.

  This is the exact way we met, in the exact same spot. I get instant goosebumps, and his romantic score just skyrocketed through the roof.

  Cameron’s eyes glow with affection as he looks up at me, waiting and expectant.

  I glance over to Natasha and Jenna to see they are standing with Joshua, Adrian, and the group. They’re all watching on and smiling broadly. Natasha and Jenna are bouncing up and down on the spot. They so knew about this.

  This was all planned.

  Is this really happening?

  “I should have trusted my gut instincts five years ago and taken you straight to the chapel and married you that night.” Cameron smiles hopefully.

  I get a lump in my throat as I watch him on bended knee. He is perfect.

  This is perfect.

  The place we met.


  “Will you marry me, Ashley Tucker?”

  I nod, laugh, and then bend to kiss him. The crowd cheer around us. Our faces are scrunched together as we kiss and I think my smile is going to crack my cheeks. He stands and slowly slides the ring my finger. I can hardly see it through the happy tears.

  It’s big—stupid huge, actually—and I hold my hand out to look at it before I glance back up at him.

  “You didn’t answer me,” he whispers as he wraps his arms around me.

  I smile against his lips as he starts to kiss me softly.

  “Say it out loud,” he begs quietly.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.” I laugh. “You are the best fake husband I could ever have hoped for.”

  THE END

  No matter how hard I tried,

  I couldn’t do this story justice in a two-page glance into the future… so stay tuned.

  Follow the next five years in the

  Dr. Stanton’s

  epilogue novella

  Read on for an excerpt of Stanton Adore -Joshua and Natasha

  and Marx Girl- Bridget

  MARX GIRL

  Releasing October 2017

  1

  Kamala

  “Don’t look at me like you want me. If you don’t,” I murmur into the silence.

  He sits back and readjusts his length. His dark eyes hold mine, but he doesn’t answer.

  The water laps around me as I lie on the inflatable mattress, floating around the pool in my white string bikini. The sun is just setting over the horizon and everyone has disappeared to get ready for dinner.

  We are alone.

  His eyes are locked on mine as he sits in his deck chair around the pool.

  He has no right to look at me—to watch me with wanting eyes.

  But he does.

  And… I still like it.

  Ben is my sister’s family’s bodyguard and the head of their security. Things are… difficult between us.

  The attraction we have for each other wasn’t supposed to be there, but forbidden lust never felt so good.

  At six-foot three inches tall, with his sandy hair, honey brown eyes, and his large, muscular physic—a by-product of his ex-military life—Ben Statham is one hell of a man.

  The lingering looks caused a clench deep in my sex when he looked at me.

  The smouldering fire when he’d sneak into my room late at night.

  Our story began six months ago, when my sister Natasha became involved with her then-boyfriend, Joshua Stanton.

  I was always with Tash and Ben was always with Josh. We came together through circumstance, mutual acquaintances and nothing more.

  He was the strong man at the back of the crowd watching over everyone.

  I was busy watching him.

  While the rest of the world was concentrating on my beloved sister and Joshua’s blossoming relationship, I was concentrating on fighting the attraction. The pull I felt towards him only grew day by day.

  Laughter turned to conversation. Conversation progressed to lingering looks. Lingering looks turned to goosebumps, and then one day in the kitchen pantry it happened.

  He kissed me.

  It was the most perfect kiss I’d ever had.

  It was sweet, sexy, and it opened up a world of passion that I’d never even known existed.

  For three weeks we snuck a kiss in whenever we could, until during one moment of foggy passion, I asked him to come to my room after everyone else had gone to sleep that night.

  He did.

  We made love… storybook love.

  Our perfection carried on for six weeks until tragedy struck our family. As the head of security, Ben blamed himself for what happened and he pulled away from me.

  When I needed him the most, he was nowhere to offer support.

  And now we’re here, on a family holiday in Kamala, Thailand.

  My feelings for him haven’t changed.

  He’s still the head of security.

  I’m still his boss’ sister-in-law.

  But he left me when I needed him the most and I won’t forget that in a hurry.

  Our eyes are locked.

  “Why do you think I don’t want you?” he whispers in his heavy South African accent.

  I frown, unsure how to answer. Eventually, I reply, “Do you want me?”

  He sips his beer, taking his time to answer.

  I run my fingers through the water beneath me as I try to articulate my own thoughts.

  I don’t know what’s going on with us, but I do know I can’t stand feeling the way I do.

  I can’t go on without the answers that I need. He’s a strong man who doesn’t show his true feelings, but what the hell happened to us? How do you go from passionate lovers to nothing without even having a conversation about it?

  There was no fight, no discussion. Just silence.

  Still, he waits, not answering my question. His jaw clenches as his eyes hold mine.

  My eyes search his.

  What the fuck is going on with him?

  Does he want me to beg?

  I climb off the inflatable mattress and make my way over to the pool steps. I want to be the one who ends the conversation, not for it to be the other way around.

  Who am I kidding?

  I’m the only one in this conversation. I slowly walk out of the pool, watching as his hungry eyes drop down my body. I bend and pick up my towel, wrapping it around my waist. With one last lingering look, I walk inside.

  His refusal to address our issues infuriates me.

  It hurts and makes me wonder if everything we shared was some kind of delusion.

  I know he’s strong, I know he’s not a talker, but the nights spent in his arms were filled with tenderness and love.

  Where is that man?

  I want him back.

  I lie in the darkness. It’s one in the morning. The sound of the ocean is drifting through the room and the soft breeze rolls over my body. As usual, I’m torturing myself with thoughts of Ben Statham and his beautiful body. Where is he now? Is he asleep?

  The last time we were together I told him I loved him. I never meant to, but I couldn’t help it. I was all soft and emotional from my orgasm high and it just slipped out.

  Is that why he ran?

  I blow out a deep breath and stare at the ceiling as I go over that last night we had together for the ten thousandth time.

  If I knew it was going to be our last night together, I would have done more. I would have said more.

  I’d have done anything to make him stay.

  The door slowly opens and I roll over. My heart catches in my chest.

  “Ben…” I whisper.

  He walks in and closes the door behind him. His hands clench at his sides, he seems nervous.

  I frown into the darkness as I watch him.

  “I wanted to see you,” he whispers.”

  I lie still and quiet. He can talk this time.

  “I look at you like I want you...” He pauses and takes a breath. “Because I do.”

  I frown.

  “You have no idea how badly I want you Bridget or how hard it is to stay away.”

  “Then don’t. Why are you doing this to us?” I whisper.

  He sits on the side of the bed and cups my face in the palm of his hand. His eyes search mine in the moonlit room and his thumb gently dusts over my bottom lip. He hesitates and frowns, clearly pained. “I’m not who you think I am.”

  I sit up onto my elbow and frown as I watch him. “Are you married?” I whisper. Oh no. My heart starts to beat furiously. He has a whole other life in South Africa, doesn’t he? I have no idea what’s going on at home for him.

  He shakes his head and a soft smile crosses his face. “No, my love. I’m not married.” He leans in to kiss me softly. “But I am unavailable to give you my heart.”

  Tears fill my eyes.

  “Please know that I love you, Bridget.”

  “Ben,” I whisper. “What’s going on? Talk to
me.”

  He leans in and sweeps his tongue gently through my mouth. I can’t help it… I screw up my face up as the tears fall.

  It’s there again… the urge to tell him that I love him.

  This man makes me so weak.

  I sit up and wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. We kiss slowly and I feel my arousal start to rise.

  “I’ve come to say goodbye,” he whispers against my lips.

  “What?” My eyes search his. “But you said—”

  He cuts me off. “I can’t be who you want me to be, Bridget.”

  “Yes, you can, Ben. You are who I want,” I whisper angrily. Damn it, I hate this sneaking around shit. I can’t even raise my voice.

  He runs his thumb over my cheekbone as he studies my face. “I have a past, my love—one that I don’t want to ever catch up with you. I won’t bring that into your life.”

  I shake my head. “What are you talking about? We all have pasts. We can work it out together, Ben.”

  “Goodbye, Bridget,” he whispers sadly. As he goes to stand, I grab his wrist.

  “No. Don’t go,” I beg as I lose control. “Don’t leave me. I love you.”

  He bends and kisses me gently. “Remember me with love, angel.”

  I stare at him through my tears.

  “I love you,” he whispers.

  With one last lingering kiss, he breaks from me and stands to leave my room without looking back.

  I curl into a ball. My heart physically hurts in my chest, and I weep.

  Five years later

  I smile at my beloved sister and I squeeze her hand in mine across the backseat. “God, it’s so good to see you.”

  Tash screws up her face. “It really is.”

  “How long has it been since we were in the states?” Abbie frowns as she thinks.

  “Five months.” Natasha sighs as she blows out a deep breath. “But remember you are coming over for Thanksgiving.”

  “Try and stop us.” Abbie smiles as she reapplies her lip gloss in her compact mirror.

  We’re in the back of a hire car on our way to a cocktail bar to meet the boys. Natasha, my sister, has lived in the US with her husband Joshua and their children for five years. Now she’s finally come home to Sydney, Australia for a family wedding tomorrow. I’ve been so excited to have her home; I haven’t been able to sleep all week.

 

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