by Rebecca Shea
“Is that for me?” I run my finger up and down her warm folds, spreading her wetness. She gasps as my fingers roam. Standing up, I pull her panties down her long legs and stand at the foot of her bed. Tossing them to the floor, I let her feet dangle just off the end of the bed as I spread her legs. Her chest rises and falls with each shallow breath she’s taking. A little moan escapes her as she wiggles on the bed, pulling at the belt that holds her hands above her head. I unzip my pants and pull them off along with my boxer briefs. Kneeling between her legs, I can see how ready she is.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Reagan?” She closes her eyes and her breathing becomes more rapid. “Answer me. Do you want me to fuck you?” She shakes her head from side to side. “No? Your body is telling me otherwise.” I run my finger through her wet lips again, finding her swollen clit. I rub it lightly and she bucks her hips.
“Tell me you want me to fuck you, Reagan,” I breathe against her mouth. My cock is pressing against her as I tease her.
Her body shudders, and she opens her eyes, “I want you to fuck me,” she pants.
“Condom?”
“Nightstand,” she says.
Rolling off of her, I open the drawer and find two condoms sitting next to her vibrator. Pulling it out of the drawer along with one of the condoms, I hold it up.
“Is this what you’ve been getting off with?” I push the little button at the end of the rubber vibrator and it hums to life. Setting the condom on the bed, I turn the vibrator off and hold it up again.
“Answer me; is this what you’ve been using to get off?” She nods her head. Positioning myself between her legs, I turn the vibrator on and click it twice, turning it to its highest setting. I twirl the buzzing tip around each of her nipples, causing them to harden into stiff little peaks.
“Do you like that?” I ask as she smiles. Running it down her stomach, I slowly lower it and press it into her wet center. She gasps as I pull it in and out of her slowly. Moving it to her clit, I circle her and her thighs begin shaking violently.
“Landon,” she screams.
“More?” I continue circling her clit and watch as every muscle in her lower half tightens. Sliding two fingers into her, I continue circling her clit with the vibrator as she bucks wildly beneath me.
“Come baby,” I encourage her. I slide my fingers in and out gently as I feel her wet release as she lets go. Pulling my fingers from her, I click the vibrator off and put the condom on. Her breathing is heavy and her thighs continue to shake. “Did you like that?” I ask as I roll the condom over my length. She doesn’t answer me, but concentrates on regulating her breathing.
“Answer me. Did you like that?”
“Y… y… yes,” she stutters.
“Good. Because that’s the last time you’re going to use a fucking vibrator to get you off. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Her voice shakes.
“As long as I’m here, you will never use that piece of shit again. I will give you pleasure.”
“Okay.” She nods and wiggles her arms, which are still secured to the bed slats. Positioning myself between her legs, I rub her swollen clit between my thumb and forefinger. She’s tender and ready. Pressing myself to her center, I slowly inch my way inside of her. She gasps with each inch I take.
“Jesus, you’re so tight.”
“It’s been a long time,” she says as she lifts her ass off the bed and accepts me fully into her. I rock gently, letting her adjust. Her legs fall further apart and I lean forward and press a kiss to her mouth.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Reagan?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I let myself feel him, breathe him, and love him. I said it—I love him. I am fully aware that he is incapable of telling me how he feels, but I know he is showing me. He’s not fucking me; I’ve been fucked before. He’s making love to me.
“Untie my hands, please,” I ask quietly.
“Not yet.” He rocks himself in and out, taking his time. His touch is warm and gentle, yet full of need—want. His warm breath against my neck causes goose bumps to prick my skin. His lips pull at the soft skin of my neck and he presses light kisses just behind my ear. His hands move over every inch of me.
“I need to touch you,” I muster between breaths. He takes his time moving in and out of me.
“Every day, Reagan. I want to fuck you like this every single day,” he mutters between breaths. Eventually, he reaches above and pulls at the tie and my hands fall from the slats to the pillow above my head. He never stops moving, but with one hand is able to release the robe belt from around my hands and wrists. My shoulders ache as I bring my arms down and hold onto his muscular biceps.
Our bodies move together as if we’ve made love every day for years. “You feel so fucking good,” he mutters against my neck. My legs are wrapped around his waist, holding him exactly where I want him.
“I’m so close,” I whisper and he picks up his pace. Reaching up, I take his face in my hands. “Look at me,” I tell him quietly. Even through the darkness of the room, I can see his light blue eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing. I’m perfect. I just want to see your face.” He presses a kiss to my lips and I feel him harden inside me, a sign he’s just as close as I am.
“Come with me,” I say as I rock my hips with his. A low growl escapes from his throat as he plunges into me one last time. Collapsing on top of me, his fingers brush gently through my damp hair.
“You’re amazing,” he whispers against my neck.
“So are you,” I say under my breath. Pulling himself from me, he saunters to the bathroom. I wrap the sheet around me and wait for him, wondering if he will leave me and go home. Returning to the bedroom, he slides into bed, and my heart breathes a sigh of relief. Pulling me to him, he spoons me and strokes my arm with his finger. As we settle into the comfortable silence, I roll over to face him.
“You okay, Doc?” he asks, cupping my cheek with his hand. I nod and clear my throat.
“Do something for me, please.” My voice is hoarse with emotion. He pulls me closer so we’re lying face to face on the same pillow.
“Sure.” He sounds confused.
“Break your rules for me.”
“What do you mean, Doc?”
“Don’t leave me with just one night. Break your rules. Give me more than tonight.” He pulls me into a tight embrace. “Just try,” I whisper as I see him shake his head from side to side a little bit. My heart breaks a little as minutes go by and he never answers me—I’ve now just become another one of his “fuck them and leave them” girls, except that he’s with me right now, and maybe he’ll stay.
Waking in the pitch-black room, my heart falls when I reach for him and he’s not there. Glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand, I see that it reads 3:21a.m., and my stomach turns at the thought that I was just another fuck to him. He got what he wanted, so I’m not sure why I’m surprised by his absence.
“I’m right here.” I hear his low voice coming from the corner of the room. He’s sitting on the end of the chaise lounge, and I’m just able to make out his shadow.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I sit up and push the sheet off of me.
“Couldn’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.” His voice is raspy and dry.
“Come here.” I can see the outline of him in the dark room as he walks to the bed and sits down. “Lie with me.” I pat the empty space on the bed next to me. He lies down on his back and raises his arms above his head.
“Talk to me,” I whisper and lay my hand across his chest, resting it over his heart. “Why can’t you sleep?”
He pulls one hand out from underneath his head and lays it over my hand on his chest. “I rarely sleep. Or I should say, I fall asleep, but seldom stay asleep.”
“Nightmares?”
“No, not really. Just memories I can’t shake.” I roll toward him and slide my leg in between his, nuzzling up to h
im. I want him to be comfortable talking to me, sharing with me, but I know I cannot force it.
“You need to sleep.”
With a short laugh, he presses a kiss to my forehead. “You need to stop worrying.”
“Let me worry about you, let me care for you—let me love you,” I whisper and I notice him visibly tense at the sound of those words. I know I’ve pushed it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“No, it’s fine. It’s just been a really long time since anyone, actually, I’m not sure if anyone…” His voice trails off.
“Let me,” I whisper as I close my eyes and drift off to the peaceful sounds of his breathing, wrapped in the arms of the man I love.
I wake to the sounds of pans clattering and a barrage of curse words from the kitchen. Pulling on my robe, I look for the belt that has been discarded on the floor next to the bed and I pick it up and tie it around my waist, closing the robe.
I pad down the hallway in my bare feet to see Landon standing over the stove, preparing to make breakfast.
“I woke you up.” He looks disappointed as he walks over and places a kiss to the side of my head. “I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed.” Pouring coffee into a large ceramic mug, he hands it to me and leans against the kitchen island, wearing nothing but the dark grey dress pants he wore out last night. His chest is bare, but my eyes follow the sprinkling of light brown hair that trails down his abdomen and beneath the waistband of his grey pants. My eyes fall to the floor and I notice he isn’t wearing socks either, and his feet are perfect. Everything about this man is perfection.
Setting down my mug, I place both hands on his chest and kiss his neck. “I was hoping I’d wake up next to you.” I run my hands down his chest, over his abs, and back up again.
“Oh yeah? Why?” He tugs at my robe and it falls off one shoulder. His blue eyes darken and he bites his bottom lip as he takes me in. Pinning me between himself and the kitchen island, he tugs at the belt, watching it fall to the tile floor below. The robe opens, covering just my breasts and he inhales sharply as he runs a finger through the skin between my breasts down to my navel. Moving my coffee mug to the counter behind him, he lifts me by the waist and sets me on the kitchen island.
“Because I wanted a repeat of last night,” I say with a sharp inhale when he pushes the robe aside and pulls my nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard. He cups the other breast, teasing it as he continues sucking.
“Because what, baby?” He forces my knees apart and positions himself between my thighs.
“I wanted you to… oh my God,” I scream as his fingers rub and pull at my clit.
“Is that for me?” he asks, rubbing the wetness around. “Are you wet for me?”
“Yes,” I mutter between gasps.
“Lie down.” He guides me so that I’m lying on the cold granite counter. I shudder when my back hits the freezing cold granite. My legs dangle off the edge of the island, still spread, and I hear his pants hit the floor.
He guides himself into me with one gentle thrust. “God,” I moan as he moves, and I flinch when I feel how sore I am from last night, but not enough to make him stop.
“You okay?” he asks, noticing my reaction. I nod and move my hips slowly, meeting his rhythm.
“Sore?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Good.” He chuckles. “Then I know I’ve done my job.” His thrusts become harder, faster, and I can feel my climax building already. “So wet,” he says as his hands hold my hips in place. I move my hips faster to meet him and he lets out a groan.
“Fuck me, Reagan.”
“God I’m so close,” I mumble in between my jagged breaths. My hands grip at the cold granite counter top as he pushes himself in and out of me. “Landon,” I moan.
“Not yet, baby.” I know he isn’t close yet. “We go together,” he says as he squeezes both of my breasts and bites at my neck.
“Please,” I hiss through my teeth. Grabbing his hands, I lace my fingers over the top of his and close my eyes.
“Ready.” He gives my hands a little squeeze and I feel his body tighten. Every muscle in his arms and chest become rigid and his head drops back slightly.
“Yes,” I groan. And in that moment, we both release. Leaning forward, he scoops me up from the island and I wrap my legs around his waist.
“Shower,” he stutters through his still ragged breaths.
“Bath,” I tell him as he carries me down the hallway, my entire body wrapped around his. We’re still connected, a single being as he walks carefully. Entering the bathroom, he holds me for a minute and I can still feel him pulsing inside of me—there is no better feeling than him inside of me. Pulling out of me slowly, he sets me down in the bathroom and turns the knob to turn on the bath in the huge garden-style tub. Pulling off the robe that’s hanging off my shoulders, I kick it to the floor when I feel the warm liquid on my inner thigh.
“Landon,” I gasp as I freeze.
“What? What’s wrong?” He runs his hands through the water as he pours bubble bath under the streaming water.
“You didn’t use a condom.” His head snaps around and he meets my eyes. I’m mumbling numbers as I count the days since I think was my last period.
“You’re not on birth control?” He sucks in a quick breath.
“No. Why would I be?”
“Because you’re a fucking doctor,” he snaps.
“I was a fucking doctor that wasn’t fucking anyone—so there was no need,” I snap back at him, losing count of the days I was counting.
“Okay, let’s not panic,” he says, reaching for my arm. I continue counting until I’m confident that I’ve added correctly.
“We should be fine,” I announce. “But I’ll take some emergency contraception to be safe.”
“God, don’t scare me like that.” He pulls at me gently, stepping into the tub, and I follow him. I gasp at how hot the water is as I lower my body into the bubbles. He wraps his arms around me, guiding me backwards so that I’m leaning against his chest.
He palms water over my chest and plays with the coconut-scented bubbles that have pooled around us, and every muscle begins to relax.
“You sure we’re okay?”
“Yeah,” I reassure him. “We’re good.” A deep sigh of relief escapes from him. He holds me as we soak in the hot water and relax. I study the tattoos on his arms that are wrapped around me, holding me firmly against him.
“What do all of these mean?” I ask, running my hand around the skull with a snake.
“Lots of things. This is my newest one.” He brushes my hand, pointing to the skull tattoo. “The skull, in many cultures, is a positive symbol. It means rebirth. I guess, for me, it was about new beginnings.” I study the black ink and trace the outlines of the other tattoos that mark his arms.
“What about the snake? What is the meaning behind the snake?”
“Again, many cultures view the snake differently. The Greeks view the snake as a sign of healing. The Romans view the snake as a source of protection, a protector.”
“So what do these mean to you?” I ask, hoping he’ll bite and share with me a bit more about himself.
“A lot of it is personal.”
“I can see that. Healing, protector, rebirth… and then this,” I trace the two words etched along the front of his wrist. “Strong survivor,” I whisper.
“I know what you’re doing, Doc, and when I’m ready to share with you, I will. I’m not ready yet, okay?” I don’t say anything in return; I just lie against him and let the warm water work at relaxing my sore body.
“You’re wrinkled,” he says, pressing his hand against mine, palm to palm.
“Go ahead and get out. I’m going to relax in here for a while longer,” I say, scooting forward so he can get out. When he stands up, I realize it’s the first time I’ve really seen him fully naked. Every perfect, muscled inch of him is standing within inches of me. “What’s this?” I ask, running my hand across a large jagged sca
r on his side.
“Just a scar.” His voice is clipped. He steps out of the tub and pulls a towel down from the shelf. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he saunters away into the bedroom, collecting scraps of clothes off of the floor as he goes along.
“You know, someday you’re going to have to talk to me.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” he mutters and walks out of the bedroom, slamming the door.
“Fuck,” I grumble as I slide into the hot water. Closing my eyes, I replay every minute of last night and this morning and I kick myself for pushing him to talk to me. I know he will when he’s ready. Even though it’s across the house, I can’t mistake the sound of the front door slamming shut. He’s left.
“What happened?” Matt asks as I step up into his Tahoe.
“Nothing. Thanks for picking me up.” He knows when to shut the fuck up and not ask questions, and he knows that time is right now. He pulls out of the condo complex and drives the few miles to my house. The ride is silent and the air filled with tension. I stare out the passenger window while my heart beats rapidly.
“She’s asking too many questions,” I say quietly. “She saw my scar and she wants to know things—things I’m not ready to share.” Matt is quiet as he turns onto my street. Pulling into the driveway, he puts the truck in park.
“Maybe you could tell her. I mean Lindsay and I are the only ones that know.” He pauses. “I’ve never seen you like this with anyone, not even…”
“I’m not ready to tell her anything.” I open the car door and get down. “Thanks for the ride home.” I shut the door and walk briskly toward the front door of my house. I can hear Matt’s window roll down and his words shoot through me, stopping me in my tracks.
“You know, she might be the one to save you.”
Turning around quickly, my eyes shoot daggers at him and my words fire back at him, “Save me? Save me from what?”