Chapter 5 #2
I yank at his belt, urging, "Not yet. Make me okay."
He catches my wrists, moves them behind me, and pins them on the counter along with his assessing stare. "You sure that's what you want?"
I nod. "Mm-hmm." I slide my tongue back into his mouth, swiping around his fast.
His mouth curves against mine. He breaks our kiss, keeping his lips an inch from mine. "Then we're going to do this slow enough that you feel every second of it. No rushing through the feelings. You feel them with me."
"Red—"
"Shh." He kisses the corner of my mouth, my jaw, the frantic pulse under my ear. "Breathe with me, Bluebird. In…out…" His lips tease my chin.
I try. I fail. My chest heaves, nipples so tight they ache against the lace of my bra right as he drags his thumbs over them through the fabric. He makes slow, deliberate circles until I'm arching, chasing the pressure.
He studies me, murmuring, "That's good. Feel it. Let it build."
The praise hits like a slap and a caress at once. Sensations zing under his fingers. I rock my hips toward him.
"Tell me what you want," he orders.
"Please—just...just touch me, Dr. Mercer," I beg, with adrenaline growing fast in my veins.
Velvet slides over steel as he taunts, "Where, baby? Use your words. Tell your doctor exactly where you hurt."
Flames lick my skin. I barely get out, "Between my legs. I'm so wet it hurts. I can feel it soaking through my panties."
He groans, forehead dropping to my shoulder for a second like he's gathering himself. Then his hand slides down, cupping me over my jeans, the heel of his palm pressing firm against my clit.
"Oh God!" I cry out, my hips jerking.
"Here?" he asks, flicking his wrists up and down and adding, "This little cunt needs attention?"
"Yes!"
His lips move over my ear. Tingles pop up under his breath. His tongue grazes my lobe as he speaks, "Do I need to do a full examination?"
"Please," I beg, closing my eyes from dizziness and swallowing hard.
He tightens his grip behind me on my wrists until I arch my back. "That's a good patient," he coos, and the other hand pops the button on my jeans. Then he drags the zipper down with agonizing patience. He shifts his hips, his erection hitting my soaked panties through his pants, and I shiver.
"Red!"
His fingers trace the wet satin, following the seam of my folds through the fabric. "So fucking drenched for me. Even when you're furious, your pussy still knows who it belongs to, doesn't it?"
I spread my thighs wider, an invitation and a challenge, agreeing, "Yes. It belongs to you, Dr. Mercer."
He hooks the crotch of my panties aside and strokes through my slickness, spreading it up over my clit.
My head falls back, and my mouth opens on a silent scream. I blink hard, trying to keep my vision, but everything is blurry.
"Look at me," he orders softly.
I move my head forward. He slowly comes into view.
Black, hungry eyes meet mine, but there's also a tenderness so fierce, it almost hurts more than the want. He circles my clit with slick fingertips. "You're allowed to feel good. You're allowed to come apart. You're allowed to need this. Now say it, Bluebird."
"I'm—" My voice breaks as he slips one finger inside, slow, stretching me open.
"Oh God! Red!"
"Say it!" he barks.
"I'm allowed," I blurt out.
"Good." A second finger joins the first, curling just right.
A violent shudder surges through me.
"Again," he orders.
"I'm allowed to need you." The words come out on a sob.
"What part of me are you allowed to need?" he pushes, rubbing his erection against my thigh.
"Your cock."
"What do you want my cock to do?" he asks, flicking his tongue over my lobe.
"To fuck me until I can't think about anything except how deep you are."
His breath hisses out. "Jesus, Blue."
He pumps his fingers slowly, thumb working my clit in lazy circles. Every stroke drags against a spot that makes my toes curl inside my boots.
I beg, "Take off your pants. I want to feel all of you."
He withdraws his hand in a slow, torturous movement.
I whine from the loss, and his other hand releases my wrists.
He yanks my jeans and panties down in one rough motion, his lips sliding down my leg while he tugs my boots off, and I'm bare from the waist down. The cold quartz quickly turns warm.
He steps between my thighs, still fully dressed except for the open belt and the thick ridge straining against his zipper.
I reach for him, fumbling with his fly. He lets me, watching my face like he's memorizing every micro-expression. When his heavy, thick cock springs free, it's already leaking. I wrap my hand around him and stroke once, root to tip.
He groans, his hips jerking.
Pre-cum slicks my palm. I bring it to my mouth, licking his salty residue while holding his gaze.
He breathes. "Fuck. You're trying to kill me."
"Good." I guide his cock over my entrance, rubbing the head through my folds. "Then die inside me."
He catches my wrist and pins it beside my hip. "Not yet."
I moan in frustration, whining, "I need you, Dr. Mercer. Please."
A small, dangerous smile forms, then he drops to his knees.
The first swipe of his tongue makes my spine bow, and something incoherent flies out of me. He licks broad and slow, flattening over my clit, then points it to flick the underside.
Spasms take hold. I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him against me, my hips grinding shamelessly against his face.
He hums approval, the vibration ripping another moan from my throat. Two fingers slide back inside me, fucking in time with his tongue until I'm shaking so hard, my thighs tremble against his ears.
"Red—I'm—"
He kisses my thigh, demanding, "Come on my tongue, Bluebird. Give it to me. Let me taste how much you still trust me." He returns to my clit and sucks hard.
The orgasm hits like a sharp and blinding freight train, with every muscle locking as I moan and see stars.
He doesn't stop, licking me through it, drawing it out until I'm sobbing, oversensitive, and still rocking against his mouth.
When he finally pulls back, his chin glistens, and his eyes glaze with lust. He rises, kissing me so deep I taste my arousal.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Now. Please, doctor. I need you inside me."
He notches himself at my entrance, just the head stretching me open. His gaze pins me in place, pupils blown wide, attention locked on mine like the rest of the room no longer exists. "Eyes on me, Bluebird."
I lock gazes with him.
"Say you're mine," he rasps.
"I'm yours." The words feel like truth and blasphemy.
He finally thrusts. It's slow, inexorable, and fills me inch by thick inch until his hips meet mine and we're sealed together. We both groan, foreheads pressed, breathing each other's air.
He starts moving in long, deliberate strokes that drag every ridge over a new spot inside me. His hand slides between us, thumb circling my clit again.
"You're so tight," he murmurs against my mouth. "So wet. Taking me so perfectly even when you're mad at me."
My pussy clamps down on him, then spasms. "Oh God!" Convulsions overpower my frame.
"Fuck," he curses, his pace faltering just for a moment. Then he pushes me so my back rests on the counter. He tugs my shirt to my chin and splays his palm over my chest to hold me down.
"R-Red," I stutter.
He thrusts slowly, admitting, "I'm still deciding how hard you want your treatment."
My lungs sputter. I burst out, "Hard! I want all of it and hard!"
He snaps his hips, fucking me deep and rough, keeping his hand pressed over my chest. The wet slap of skin on skin fills the room, obscene and perfect.
Pink-faced, he growls, "Touch yourself. Play with those pretty tits while I fuck you."
I tug the material from my bra cups down so my breasts pop out. I pinch my nipples, keeping my eyes on Red, feeling so high I might explode.
"That's it. Show me how you like it rough." He angles his hips, hitting deeper.
I tug on my nipples and whimper.
Heat sharpens his features, jaw set hard, eyes locked on mine with a focus that borders on feral.
His mouth curves into the kind of expression that says he's already decided how this ends.
And he holds me, steady and unyielding, like he wants every reaction burned into his memory.
He hisses, "I'm going to fill your cunt up.
Mark you from the inside so you feel me for days. "
"Yes—God—come inside me—"
His rhythm stutters. "You want that? You want your doctor's cum dripping out of you?"
I nod. "Yes! So bad. I need it!"
A faint curve tugs at his mouth. He leans forward and kisses me. It's messy and desperate. Then he buries his face in my neck. "Come with me, Bluebird. Milk my cock. Fall apart for me while I hold you through it."
"Dr. Mercer," I whisper, voice trembling as fast as my body.
His thumb presses harder on my clit, circling fast. The pressure builds to unbearable levels, coiling tight.
"I'm—fuck—Red—"
He growls in my ear, "Now. Come now."
I break, screaming, clenching, pulsing around him as wave after wave rips through me.
He follows on the next stroke, slamming me deep, his cock throbbing as he spills inside me in hot, thick pulses that seem to go on forever.
A galaxy of stars blurs my vision. My frame stays pinned, vibrating between him and the counter.
"Fucking gorgeous, dirty little patient of mine," he grits out, then another groan echoes in the air.
We stay locked together, panting and trembling. His arm reaches higher, his fingers gripping my hair, and tugging my face toward the ceiling. He sucks on the pulse in my neck until I can barely breathe, but I don't care. I want the bruises. I want the proof.
When he's done filling me, his ragged, hot breath moves to my temple. He softly kisses it, then my cheek, and the corner of my eye. He asserts like a vow, "You're safe, Bluebird."
Reality hits me again. I bury my face in his neck, tears mixing with sweat. "I hate what you did."
"I know." He scoops me up, carries me to the bedroom like I'm something precious and breakable.
I curl around him, my face resting on his chest.
He holds me, stroking my hair, and we stay like that for a long time until it turns dark.
I yawn, and he orders, "Sleep, Bluebird. I've got you."
For the first time in what feels like forever, I believe him.