Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Blue
Red notches at my entrance and teases my clit with his thumb until I'm whimpering, my hips jerking up in desperate little bucks. Then he thrusts hard, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke.
The exquisite stretch is borderline too much after he waited so long without letting me have him. Every ridge of him drags against my sensitive walls, reigniting nerves that have been screaming for weeks.
"Say it," he grits through his teeth, his eyes dark and unhinged.
My adrenaline kicks up. I wrap my legs higher around his waist, my heels digging into the small of his back to lock him in place. "I'm yours, Red—fuck, I'm all yours."
"You want me to pound your tight pussy harder?" he growls, slowly backing out.
"Yes!"
"How long do you want me, Bluebird?" he asks, and through the darkness of his expression, a flicker of vulnerability creeps in.
I don't hesitate. My voice cracks, "Forever."
"Mine forever." He snaps his hips forward, setting a punishing rhythm that has the headboard knocking against the wall in steady thuds.
My nails rake down his back, gliding down his sweat-slick skin. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest into mine, and that primal noise alone sends a fresh gush of wetness between my thighs.
"That's it. You drown me, Bluebird," he praises, then changes his angle just enough that the thick head of his cock grinds directly over that swollen spot inside me with every thrust.
"Red!" I gasp. Pressure coils low in my belly, tight, hot, and relentless. I chase it shamelessly, rocking up to meet him, my throbbing clit grinding against his pubic bone on every downward stroke.
"Fuck, listen to that greedy pussy swallowing me whole. You're such a good little patient for your doctor, aren't you? Milking me like you were born to drain every drop," he grunts, then sucks on my nipple.
A rush of sharp, electric pain flares as Red's teeth graze the tender peak of my tit before he sucks it deep into the wet heat of his mouth, tugging hard enough to make my back bow off the mattress and fresh tears sting the corners of my eyes.
The sting bleeds instantly into molten pleasure, a bright wire that shoots straight to my clit and makes my walls flutter wildly around his thrusting cock.
I can't tell where the hurt ends and the bliss begins.
They twist together until every brutal snap of his hips feels like a reward, every pull on my nipple like he's yanking another orgasm out of me by the roots.
My body doesn't know how to process it, so it just surrenders.
My thighs quake, walls clench in frantic, greedy spasms, and a high-pitched whine tears from my throat as the line between agony and ecstasy dissolves completely.
Pain becomes the spark that ignites more pleasure, pleasure becomes the cushion that lets me take even more pain, and I'm lost in the loop, shaking, sobbing, coming again so hard my vision whites out while he growls against my breast, "That's it, Bluebird.
Hurt so good for me, then come pretty on my cock. "
"God, yes—right there, don't stop," I gasp, fingers tangling in his hair to yank his mouth back to mine.
Our tongues clash, messy and hungry, full of salt and desperation. His hand moves between us, his thumb slides to my clit, and circles with firm, steady pressure that matches every rewarding thrust.
The dual sensation shatters whatever control I had left. My orgasm hits like a freight train, sudden, violent, and consuming. My back bows off the mattress, inner muscles lock down around him in rhythmic pulses, and I moan into his mouth, "Red!"
White light bursts behind my eyelids, limbs tremble, toes curl so hard they cramp. He keeps fucking me through it, drawing the climax out until I'm sobbing, oversensitive but needing every ounce of him he'll give me.
He doesn't let me come down. Instead, he pulls out with a wet sound that makes me whine at the sudden emptiness.
Before I can protest, strong hands flip me onto my stomach.
He yanks my hips up high, forcing me onto my knees, chest pressed to the mattress, ass presented like an offering.
Then his body cages over mine. His broad chest blankets my back.
His forearms brace on either side of my head, and he traps me beneath him.
His cock slides back inside in one long, slow glide that makes my eyes roll back.
"That's my good patient, ass up, taking my cock like you were born for it," he murmurs against the shell of my ear, breath hot enough to make me shiver.
"Yes. I'm so good for you," I rasp out.
"You love getting fucked from behind, don't you?
Love when I own this tight little hole and make you beg for more.
" One hand fists my hair, tugging my head back to expose the column of my throat.
His teeth sink into my shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but enough to leave a dark bruise I'll feel for days.
Another spasm rushes to my core. "Oh god! Dr. Mercer!" I moan, pushing back to meet his thrusts, convulsing harder.
Tingles break out under his breath. "God, you're incredible. Shaking like this, still begging for more even after you've come three times. My brave, gorgeous girl. I'm so fucking proud of how you give yourself to me."
"Mark me, Red. Make sure everyone knows I belong to you. Please," I plead.
He shifts, and the angle of his thrusts turns into devastating glides that make my vision tunnel.
Another orgasm builds almost immediately, stacking on the heels of the first. New heat pummels me, fine tremors running from my thighs to fingertips. I can barely breathe between the peaks. Every inhale turns into a gasp, every exhale a broken whimper.
"I love you, Blue."
I can't reply. Endorphins are exploding to the point I'm seeing black.
He returns to his filthy litany, voice rough with exertion. "That's it, Bluebird. Arch that back higher, show me how badly you want to please me."
"I do!" I manage to get out.
"Yes. You're my favorite patient. So wet and obedient... and so fucking tight but only for me."
"Only y-y-you!" I affirm.
His free hand snakes around to palm my breast, pinching the nipple hard enough to make me cry out. "You're taking it like a champ, baby. This cunt was starving for me, wasn't it?"
My voice cracks, "Yes!" I reach behind me and dig my nails into his thigh.
He slows his thrusts, flicks his tongue over my ear, and kisses my neck, then praises, "Look how pretty you stretch around me. Such a perfect patient, clenching your cunt on me so hard and showing me how badly you needed this."
"I did! I do!" I cry out, turning my head to look at him.
"Me too, Bluebird. Me too," he admits, then slides his tongue in my mouth.
I circle his tongue three times, and he returns to hard thrusts. The climax rips through me without warning, stronger than the last. My muffled scream turns hoarse, my body convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of adrenaline crashes over me.
My walls flutter and spasm around his thickness, trying to pull him deeper even as he keeps driving into me.
Tears leak from the corners of my eyes—not from pain but from the sheer overwhelming intensity.
I'm floating somewhere above myself, caught in a constant high where pleasure bleeds into delirium.
Colors smear behind my eyelids. The room tilts and spins. I shake so hard, my teeth chatter.
"You're so fucking perfect," he grunts between sloppy kisses. Then taunts, "Have you had enough?"
"No! Dr. Mercer," I manage between feral sobs, slipping back into my role. "I need more treatment. Fuck the crazy out of me. Make my dripping cunt behave." The words come out slurred, desperate, filthy.
He groans, his hips stuttering for a second before he regains control. "Fuuuuck, baby. You're always so needy, always so wet for your doctor's cock. I'm going to prescribe you daily doses until you're cured."
"Yes. Try to cure me," I moan, knowing there's no cure for me. Not for this. Not for my insatiable need for Red.
His thrusts turn erratic, less controlled, more primal. "I'm going to fill you up so full, you'll be leaking me for a week. Mark you inside and out."
"Please! Do it," I egg him on.
I lose count of the orgasms after that. They roll into one continuous crest, my body no longer my own, just a vessel for sensations on overdrive.
Every muscle quivers. All my limbs turn to liquid.
I babble nonsense, "Please... More... Yours.
.. Dr. Mercer... Fuck..." while he rails me into the mattress.
Then suddenly he's gone. He pulls out and off me so fast, I whimper at the loss. Cool air hits my overheated skin. He keeps his palm splayed on my back and the creek of the nightstand drawer scrapes into my ear, then the soft clink of metal buckles.
My heart kicks up another notch.
"Can't trust you to stay still, can I?" Dark velvet slithers in his voice. "Look at you shaking. I think it's time I tied you down so I can feast on this dripping pussy properly." He flips me on my back.
A new surge of endorphins kicks in. For the last month, I've lain alone in my bed and taken the cuffs out of the drawer, imagining him using them on me too many times to count.
Leather wraps around my left wrist first, the soft lining against skin, then the buckle cinches snug. A high of anticipation bursts in my veins, and he repeats the process on the right, threading the straps through the headboard slats until my arms are stretched wide above me.
My breath stays ragged. Sweat drips down my cheek. He grabs my legs and pushes them in the air. He instructs, "Stay still, Bluebird."
I taunt, "What if I move, Dr. Mercer?"
His lips curl, and he drags a finger through my soaked pussy, rubbing my swollen clit.
I gasp.
He glides his hand down my leg, then locks a cuff around my ankle, and tugs on the chain until I can't move it. My heart speeds up, and he secures the other one, leaving my legs stretched in the air in a V.
"Have you done this before?" I ask.
He pauses, then dips down to my face. "No. You're special." He kisses me.
My heart skips a beat, and my smile explodes on my cheeks.
He kneels between my thighs, his hands sliding up the insides of my legs and breath ghosting over my swollen clit.
I jerk my hips.
He chuckles, then his mouth descends, hot, wet, and relentless. His flat, broad tongue licks a long stripe from entrance to clit, then sucks my overly sensitive clit between his lips with firm suction.
I inhale sharply, my back arches off the bed as far as the restraints allow. The leather bites into my wrists as I yank against them instinctively.
"Red—fuck—too much—" The words dissolve into another wail as he spears his tongue inside me, fucking me with it while his thumb circles my clit in tight, merciless spirals.
Another orgasm builds impossibly fast, ripping through me before I can brace for it. My hips buck wild. The restraints rattle. Pleasure borders on pain, every nerve screaming.
He doesn't let up, lapping at the fresh rush of wetness, and humming against me so the vibration travels straight to my core.
The convulsions never stop. He goes on and on, then finally pulls back.
My voice is barely audible. "Thank you. God, Red. Thank you."
"Your pretty pussy isn't done," he warns, then rears up, cock in hand, and one hard thrust buries him to the root.
My scream turns raw, voice breaking.
He sets a brutal pace with deep, punishing strokes that make the bedframe creak in protest. His hands grip the back of my thighs hard enough to bruise.
"Red!" I cry out, my walls spasming again, the rush of pleasure and pain hitting me hard.
"My sweet, perfect Bluebird. You give me this body, this trust, this heat. Fuck. I'm in awe of you. Come again for me, baby. Please. Let me feel how much you love being mine."
"I...d-do," I stutter, my eyelashes fluttering. My body locks down around him, milking him with rhythmic pulses as another climax tears through me.
"Fuuuck. That's it. You're so fucking beautiful when you come for me. Every shudder, every gasp. It's perfect, baby. I'm never letting you go."
"Don't!" I beg.
"Never," he adds, then slams his hips forward and buries himself so deep, I think he hit my throat. A guttural groan fills the air. Hot spurts coat my insides, triggering aftershocks that make me shudder and clench around him in rounds of spasms.
He stays seated inside me for a long time, both of us panting, sweat cooling on our skin. Finally, he reaches up, unbuckling the restraints one by one with careful fingers. When my limbs are free, he gathers me against his chest, rolling us so I'm draped over him, head tucked under his chin.
I'm still shaking with fine tremors that won't subside. He tightens his hold on me, kissing the top of my head.
My heartbeat thunders in my ears. Every muscle feels wrung out, boneless. But beneath the exhaustion is something softer and steadier. Maybe it's peace, or at least, the beginning of it.
He presses a kiss to my damp forehead. "You okay, Bluebird?"
I manage a weak nod against his throat. My wrecked voice comes out hoarse. "More than okay. I needed that. I needed you."
His arms tighten around me. "I did, too."
I lift my head enough to meet his eyes. They're soft now, the feral edge replaced by something tender and fierce at the same time. "No more chastity belt?"
He shakes his head. "No."
"Promise?"
He brushes sweat-soaked strands from my face. "Yes. I promise. And tomorrow, we work on figuring out your family. For real this time."
Relief and giddiness rush through me, warm and sweet, chasing away the last of the tremors. "Really?"
"Really."
I settle back against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart beneath my ear. For the first time, the future doesn't feel like something to survive. It feels like something we might actually build.
His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back while our breathing slowly syncs. The room smells of sex and us and the faint lavender from the candle I forgot to blow out earlier. Outside, the neighborhood has gone quiet with only the occasional car passing on the street below.
I'm sore in the best way. My thighs ache, my core's tender, and the faint bruises already bloom where his grip and lips were tightest. Tomorrow, I'll feel every movement, every step, and I'll smile because it means he was here, claiming me, choosing me.
"Red?" My voice is small in the afterglow.
"Hmm?"
"Don't leave tonight."
His lips brush my temple. "I'm not going anywhere, Bluebird. I'm right here."
"Good." I close my eyes and let the exhaustion pull me under. His heartbeat is the last thing I register before sleep takes me.