by Anya Summers
“It’s not like that,” she denied.
“Then what is it like?”
“This is all happening really fast. I don’t normally sleep with men I hardly know.”
He backed her against the wall, his hand on the nape of her neck. “You know the important things. And the rest will come with time. You know what I think? I think you’re scared, that you felt something last night, that I opened a door inside you that has always been there, and it terrifies you. Because now, having tasted what truly gets you off, you know deep down that vanilla sex will never quite cut it for you. How am I doing so far?”
Her bottom lip trembled, and he gentled his touch. “Talk to me, Grace. What’s going on in that fascinating brain of yours?”
“Everything has just happened so fast. Not just you, but a month ago, I was an emergency room physician in downtown Denver, my grandfather was alive, and while I didn’t necessarily have a bustling social and dating life, it was what I considered satisfactory. And it’s all changed. This thing between us worries me.”
“Why?” He’d been awash in his own world, going after her because she was what he wanted, and he was used to getting what he wanted. But he’d ignored or hadn’t wanted to see what was going on with Grace. Shame filled him. It made him a piss poor Dom.
“Because you consume me every time you touch me, and I worry that I could become addicted to you. And it’s worrisome because I haven’t found my footing in this town yet. I can’t let a personal relationship supersede my need to do right by my grandpa’s practice.”
“Do you not think that perhaps I want you as addicted to me as I find I am to you? Do you not think this is a new experience for me as well?”
“You can’t possibly expect me to believe you’ve not been with a submissive before.”
“I have. But never one I wanted to keep. That part of it is as new to me as submission is to you.” He tilted her face up and was pleased at the wide-eyed shock that bled into surprised pleasure at his words.
Lowering his mouth, he grazed his lips tenderly over hers, belying the desire raging inside him. At her sigh, he shifted the kiss deeper, giving her hints of what was to come. His hand trailed down to the apex of her thighs and cupped her sex. She whimpered against him.
“See? You’re drenched. My pussy is ready and weeping for me.”
Grace gripped his dick. Her competent, slim fingers felt like a brand squeezing him. “Then this is mine.”
“That’s right. It is yours. Tell me, doc, what do you want to do with your cock?”
She looked at him then, her gaze awash with brazen desire, and he felt the answering call in his blood.
“Grace, tell me. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, not when speaking of your desires. And I’m here to help you fulfill them. I want you to tell me about all the wicked, naughty fantasies you have, that you’ve touched yourself thinking about, that you’ve come screaming about, as you masturbate.”
On a ragged, trembling breath, she said, “I want to taste you while I finger myself.”
Lust, pure and undiluted, slammed into him. This woman was full of surprises. He released her, then leaned his back against the wall and said, “Do it. Suck your cock and let me watch you finger my pussy.”
Grace stared at his erection, her chest heaving, her hands clenching and unclenching like she was so aroused by the prospect of being given what she wanted, she had no idea how to respond.
Emmett waited, scrounging for patience, and watched the battle rage inside Grace between propriety and what was expected versus what she needed most.
He held his breath as she sank to her knees before him. Her robe parted down the center, revealing more than it hid. She cupped his dick, her skilled fingers sliding over his skin in a teasing fashion. His gut tightened, the muscles in his abdomen rippled.
She stroked him lightly as if she was committing his cock to memory, testing the weight of his sac, rolling his balls in her hand, and tracing the vein on the underside of his shaft from root to tip. She licked her kiss-swollen lips, lifted her gaze, and watched him as her tongue darted out and swiped over the head.
He hissed out a breath. It felt like all the blood in his body drained into his dick, and he groaned as she slid her hot little mouth around him, sucking him in deep, with one hand holding his shaft while her mouth stroked up and down. The indescribable pleasure made his eyes cross. Her other hand snaked down between her thighs.
She moaned around his dick as she fingered her cunt. And Emmett knew he was a fucking goner. She could ask him to lasso a few stars to keep her in his bed, and by god, he would find a way to make it happen. Grace knew just the right amount of friction to create along his shaft to drive him wild. His hand found its way into her hair and he gripped it tight, pumping his hips as pleasure overrode all else.
“That’s it, Grace. Suck your cock.” He groaned.
She moaned around his cock and the sound made his balls tighten. There had never before been another woman of his acquaintance, not even the sultry Maribella, who could render him deaf, dumb, and blind to anything but them.
Grace challenged his proverbial, stalwart control, until he was nothing more than a writhing, bucking, trembling ball of need.
“Ah, fuck, I’m going to—”
The climax hit fast and furious, violent in its force. His cock jerked, firing jets of his spunk into Grace’s greedy mouth. Stars exploded before his eyes, and his knees quaked.
“That’s it, Grace, drink it all down.” He groaned, rocking his hips, straining as he emptied into her hot mouth until there was nothing left.
She released his shaft with a pop and glanced up at him with her fingers still busily working on her pussy.
“That’s enough fingering. Hands off my pussy,” he ordered, because he planned to fuck her until he was imprinted on her body.
She whimpered. “Emmett, please.”
He cupped her chin. “That’s Sir, please. Or are you looking for another spanking?”
Her eyes went blind with need. Her chest rose and fell. “No, Sir. I just need—”
“I know exactly what you need. Come with me.” He held his hand out, waiting for her to comply.
She slid her tiny hand into his without hesitation, too far gone with desire to stop. He helped her to her feet, then led her back into the bedroom. He pulled her into bed.
Situating himself on his back, he said, “Straddle my head, Grace. I want to spend some time eating my pussy.”
“Won’t that hurt your shoulder? I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“You have two options: either you follow my order, or I will discipline you. I’m the Dominant in this relationship, and I won’t have you trying to top from the bottom. Now, I would never ask you to do something that would harm yourself, or me. So either put that pretty cunt over my mouth or lay yourself across my lap.”
Grace stood at the side of the bed, debating, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Even if you choose discipline, I will still have you straddle my face so I can eat my pussy. Either way, I get what I want. You have to decide if you want your ass tanned red in the process. It won’t be me having trouble sitting down later on.”
In the end, desire won the argument—her need was too great. She nodded, and climbed into bed. Then, with his help, she positioned her body so that her cunt was just above his mouth. Her scent enveloped him.
Without preamble, he speared her flesh, thrusting his tongue inside her channel, and was rewarded with a garbled moan. Emmett was ruthless as he gave Grace oral, battering her defenses, enjoying the way she rocked her hips and held onto the headboard.
Her cream coated his mouth and chin, dribbling down so that his neck was bathed in her.
Tonguing her, he drove her body up until she screamed his name. Her back arched, her hips jerked, her nipples were hard points, and she clenched around his thrusting tongue.
He let her ride the wave of her climax and then gently moved her body—difficult t
o do one handed—until she straddled his hips, his thick erection nestled between her swollen labia.
“Lift up, babe, I want you to ride me like a cowgirl,” he directed.
Her gaze heavy lidded, she nodded and rose onto her knees. It gave him the room he needed to fit his crown at the entrance to her cunt. “Now, Grace, take me inside.”
With her eyes on him, she rolled her hips, sinking down slowly over his shaft until he was fully embedded, her tissues clenching his glans. He groaned at the exquisite sensation.
He gripped her hip, cursing the fact that he didn’t have use of both hands, and rocked, withdrawing and thrusting deep. Grace needed no urging from him and began to ride him in earnest. It was a beautiful sight, watching his flesh spear her cunt, the way her tits swayed, the rose nipples puckered.
He might not have his maneuverability like normal but that didn’t mean there weren’t ways around it. “Cup your tits for me. Pinch and roll the nipples.”
She caressed her torso and drew her hands up achingly slowly, teasing him as she did so. He pumped harder, watched her eyes go dark as she followed his orders. Grace played with her breasts, cupping and kneading the globes, tugging and twisting the nipples, making the points turn red with the attention, all while undulating and circling her hips, taking him in deep.
She was magnificent. And his. All his. He’d bloody any man who came sniffing around her.
Emmett’s control slipped. His thrusts grew more hurried and less controlled. He rubbed her swollen clit with his thumb, and knew the moment her climax struck. Her back bowed as he plunged and met her downward thrust.
Her head dropped back, and she keened. “Emmett.”
He rocked faster, harder, deeper, pistoning inside her spasming sheath until he was spurting inside her, his cock flooding her with his spunk. And even though he knew she was on the pill, there was a part of him that hoped his seed would take root. He could imagine her belly swollen with his child. The way her tits would ripen.
Grace melted over him until her torso was pressed against his. Aftershock tremors wracked their bodies. And his shaft, though no longer hard as diamond, was still buried in her heat. She laid her head on his good shoulder.
“I’ll move in a minute. I just need a moment to get feeling back in my legs,” she whispered.
“There’s no need, Grace, just relax.”
“But your arm and shoulder?”
“Are fine. I would tell you if they weren’t. Close your eyes and rest, don’t worry about anything else.” He brushed his lips over her brow and held her close.
When her eyes slid shut, and her breathing went deep and even, he watched her face as she slept on top of him, and knew without a doubt in his mind that what he felt for her went deeper than a mere Dom/sub relationship. It was primal—elemental, even—and he found that without looking, he had done something he had sworn when he was a young boy that he would never do: fall for a woman.
But the fact was, he had, and it should worry him how fast it had happened, except it felt right being with Grace. It was like she was the woman, the submissive, he had been waiting for his entire life, and the moment they met, it was as if his soul recognized her as his and declared her mine.
What would the good doctor think about the fact that he was making plans to make their relationship as permanent as one could get? She’d probably run the other way. She doubted herself and their connection, would get that worried line between her eyes. So he’d just need to make her think it was her idea.
And with that thought in mind, he drifted into sleep.
13
“Just bring it with you,” Emmett stated with his hand on his hip.
His cocky hipshot stance, even with his healing injuries, still made Grace’s belly flutter. Now that she’d given in and indulged her carnal appetites, everything the man did seemed to turn her on and make her want to jump his bones.
“I think it would be easier for me to come home, that way, I would be closer to work,” she deflected.
He’d already spent the night and the better part of the day with her, in her too small bed. That was something she would end up doing: getting rid of her ancient bed and swapping it out for the king-sized one that had been in her apartment. But she thought that, after getting Emmett home and tucking him into bed there, she would come home.
“I say differently.”
“And why is that? You’re not the boss of me,” she argued.
His gaze went dark and dangerous. A chill went down her spine. And he stalked her, until she backed herself up against the wall. He lowered his face and said in a low voice, “Yes, I am. You’ve accepted me as your Dom, and that means I am the boss of you. It means if I tell you to bend over the table with your pants down at your knees, ready to receive me, you’ll do it.”
She sputtered, “I didn’t sign up to be ordered about like a child. You have no say whatsoever in my practice and work, or how I run it. And I might be willing to do what you want on the sex stuff, but I won’t be bullied into complacency or treated like I’m stupid just so that you get your way. Because if that’s what you want from a submissive, a doormat, then you’re looking in the wrong direction.”
He ground his teeth. “Fine. We will set the parameters to bedroom only. And I ask that you please pack an overnight bag. I would like you to stay the night because I plan to fuck you until you can’t walk, and would prefer you not driving afterward in that state. The last thing I want to do is send you on your merry way and have you wind up dead in a ditch.”
At his concession and admission, she softened. They were two type A personalities, and bound to rub up against each other the wrong way from time to time. “Thank you. I know that wasn’t easy for you. But since you asked so nicely, I will pack a bag.”
“Good, and hurry. I think there’s going to be a storm tonight, and I would rather be safely ensconced at my place before it begins.”
She nudged him aside. “Give me a few minutes to get my stuff together. Why don’t we pick up a pizza and salad for dinner on the way?”
“I’ll call it in while you’re packing.” He jerked his head toward her bedroom door.
There never was a dull moment with him, she would give him that. Once in her bedroom, she selected a blouse and skirt for the following day, and put them in a garment bag. Then she picked out what she would need to get herself ready for work in the morning at his cabin.
If she thought about how fast this relationship was moving, she would panic. Instead, she decided that she would be like an ostrich: put her head in the sand, and do her best not to worry. She had experienced so little time for frivolous indulgences that she wanted to just enjoy what was without a doubt the best sex of her life.
She could handle it—and him.
He strode into the bedroom, still with the lingering scent of her soap clinging to him, and she couldn’t stop the blush at the memory of the bathtub. He was certainly a man who never let an opportunity for pleasure pass him by.
“Ready?”
“Yes,” she said, zipping up her overnight bag, which was beside her medical bag, and the garment bag.
He quirked a brow. “Planning on moving in?”
“You want me spending the night when I have to be at work in the morning, this is what it looks like. I’m not going to fold my blouse and then walk around with it wrinkled all day tomorrow. I need my shampoo, my face cream, makeup, and other things to look professional. Besides, I don’t know any guy who has more than shampoo and bar soap, and the fact is women need more than that.”
“Point taken. Let’s go.” He grabbed her overnight bag and medical bag with one hand. With her garment bag draped over her arm, she followed him out, grabbing her purse by the door. Really, men had no idea what women had to bring with them. It was never as simple as rolling out of bed and looking fine after nothing more than a shower. It took work, dammit.
“Just follow me.” Emmett indicated, tossing her bags in his truck.
The
drive to his cabin took a little longer than normal with the stop to pick up pizza on the way. As they entered the ranch and drove to his cabin, dark billowing clouds were rolling in from the west, blotting out the sun, and turning the world to dusk.
Grace liked his cabin. It was certainly quiet here. There were no neighbors close by to hear her scream. The wind whipped with the approaching storm as she emerged from her beamer with her garment bag.
It took two trips to get everything inside, mainly because the man was pigheaded and needed to be a guy. She hung up her garment bag in his bedroom, put the rest of her bags in a corner so that they would be out of the way, and had headed back into the living room when the front door closed with a loud thud.
“Are you hungry right now?” he asked, setting the pizza box and salad on top of the kitchen island.
It was such a domestic scene. If anyone had told her that she would be playing house with the wild cowboy she’d seen at that first meeting, she would have wondered if they were on drugs. “I’m not starving, if that’s what you’re asking. I could wait a little bit longer. Why? What did you have in mind?”
The look he shot her had the air clogging up in her lungs. “A number of things.”
He prowled her way, to where she stood by the kitchen table. He backed her up against the head of the table, pushed the chair out of the way, cupped the back of her neck, and crushed his mouth over hers. She moaned, startled by the need that seemed to explode between them. She couldn’t get enough of him, kissing him back, pouring her desire, her need of him, into the kiss. He was like a drug in her system. One touch, one kiss or caress, and she was lost in him.
With one hand, he lifted her up onto the table and tore his mouth from hers. “I want you naked.”
He tugged her shirt up over her head and tossed the garment behind him, uncaring where it fell. She undid her bra. In less than a minute, Emmett had her out of her clothes, her bare bottom resting on his oak kitchen table.
“You should always be naked,” he said appreciatively.
“I don’t think patients would welcome their doctor treating them in her birthday suit.”