Chapter 6
The doctor’s composure finally cracks. His breath hitches, and his eyes go dark as he stares at me. He licks his lips. Quick. Unconscious. He’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be.
“You’re being manipulative,” he says, but there’s no force behind it.
“I’m being honest,” I counter. “For the first time in my life.”
A muscle in his jaw tightens. A war is raging behind those gold-flecked eyes. I can see it. The doctor versus the man. And I think I’ve lost. I think he’s going to stick to his guns and send me away with a bottle of Ambien and a handshake.
Then he takes a step toward me. Just one.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Reid.”
“I think I do.”
“Do you?” He takes another step, closing the distance.
When he’s standing right next to the table, I can feel the heat coming off him.
Smell the clean, soapy scent of his skin.
His hands go to that white coat again, opening it, tugging at the waistband of his scrubs.
“One last look. And then we’re done here. Understood?”
“Mmhm.” But I’m not nodding. I’m too transfixed.
The fabric dips lower. Past the dark hair. Past the V. And there it is again. Bigger than before. Angrier. Fully hard now, undeniably. It bobs as he moves, heavy, thick, and the sight of it makes my own dick ache in response.
A soft sound escapes my lips. “Fuck, doc.”
My hand reaches out. I can’t stop myself. My body has a will of its own. I want to touch it. Feel the heat, the weight, the soft skin stretched tight over the hard core of it. I want to know what it tastes like.
Before I can make contact, he grabs my wrist. His grip is iron.
“I said look.” His voice cuts through me. “Not touch.”
I stare at him, wrist caught in his grasp, my dick throbbing in the open air. “You’re hard as fuck,” I say, breathing fast. “Look at me. I’m a mess. All because of you.”
He lets go of my wrist. His gaze drops to my lap, then back to my face.
I try again, and this time he doesn’t stop me. My fingers brush the swollen head. Warm. Velvety. Slick with precum. He flinches. I wrap my hand around the shaft, and he gasps. I can feel it. That jump in his cock. The pulse beating against my palm.
“You can’t tell me you don’t feel this too,” I whisper, looking up at him. “There’s electricity between us, man. I’m buzzing from it. Aren’t you?”
He looks down at my hand on him. At the way my thumb is stroking the leaking slit. I’m watching his face so close I see the exact moment he gives in. The resignation. The surrender.
He lets out a shuddering breath. “I am,” he admits, his voice rough. “God, help me, I am. But?—”
I don’t let him finish. I lean in and take him into my mouth. I don’t even think about it. I just do it. Pure instinct.
I always thought it would be disgusting.
Another dude’s junk in my mouth. That’s the stuff we joke about in the locker room.
The ultimate insult. But the second my lips close around him, I know I was wrong.
It’s fucking amazing. The weight on my tongue, the salty-bitter taste of his skin, the clean, musky smell of him.
He lets out a choked sound and one of his hands flies to the back of my head, tangling in my hair.
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I’m just following the buzz.
Following instinct. I do what I’ve seen girls do to me, even though it had little effect.
What I always wished they’d do more of. I hollow my cheeks, sucking hard, and he bucks into my mouth with a groan.
I take him as deep as I can until he hits the back of my throat and I gag, tears springing to my eyes.
I have to stop to breathe. I pull off, gasping, a string of spit and precum connecting my lips to his flushed cock. I look up at him. His head is thrown back, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut. Totally lost in it.
That sight. Him surrendering to me. It sends a fresh wave of lust crashing through me.
I don’t hesitate. I go back for more. My hand grips the base, steadying him as I take him back into my mouth.
I explore him with my tongue, tracing the ridge of his head, running along the thick vein on the underside.
I can feel him getting harder. Growing impossibly thicker.
There’s no way this thing is fitting down my throat. But I can’t stop trying.
I relax my jaw. Take more of him. I want to feel him pulse against my tongue.
I want to hear that choked sound again. I want him to lose control completely.
His other hand comes to my shoulder, gripping tight, trying to stay upright.
And the thought that I’m the one doing this to him.
That I’m making this confident, in-control doctor come apart in my mouth. It’s a fucking rush.
My own dick is so hard it hurts. I’m leaking all over the gown and my stomach. But I don’t dare touch myself. I’d come instantly, and I’m too focused on him. On the taste, the feel, the sounds he’s making.
There’s a whole lot of slurping and gagging as I try to get as much of him down as I can. I want him fully inside me. To feel him in my throat. To swallow him whole. Those hairy balls pressed against my chin. But I’m too much of a novice. Or maybe he’s simply too big.
“Reid,” he groans, his hips starting to move. “Holy shit.”
I mumble encouragement around his dick. “Yeah” and “more,” but it’s all muffled gibberish.
He gets the message though, because he starts to thrust into my mouth.
Slowly at first. Testing my limits. And I let him.
I open my throat as best I can and let him use me.
Each thrust hits a little deeper, making me shudder.
And then it happens. He thrusts deep, and for a split second, I have all of him.
The whole length down my throat. I pay for it with a violent gag, eyes watering, nose running, but it’s worth it for the guttural moan that rips from his chest. His fingers dig into my scalp, holding me there for a beat, his whole body shaking.
He pulls back, letting me breathe. “You okay?” he rasps, actually looking concerned.
I nod, wiping my messy face with the back of my hand. “Fine,” I croak, my throat raw. “Don’t stop.”
I lean forward and take him back in. He lets out a sound that’s barely human, and his hips start moving again.
This is what it feels like. To truly let go. To not be thinking, not be in my head, not be worrying about whether I’m hard enough. My body is just responding. To him. To this. In a way it never has with anyone else.
I can feel him getting close. His balls are drawing up tight against my chin.
He’s thrusting erratically, losing control.
The head of his cock hitting that sensitive spot in my throat.
Over and over. His breath is coming in ragged pants.
And I want it. I want him to come in my mouth.
I want to swallow everything he gives me.
“Reid,” he gasps.
He tries to pull out. The gentlemanly thing to do. But I don’t let him. I grab his ass and pull him deeper into my throat, holding him there.
Do it.
I can already imagine it. How he’ll fill my mouth. A hot, thick flood pulsing down my throat. So much of it. I’ll try to swallow it all, chug it like Gatorade on the sidelines. I want it all over me.
But he doesn’t. He gives a few rough thrusts, grinding into my face, then pulls out. His dick springs free, angry and purple and slick with my spit.
“How do you do that?” I ask. “How do you hold back like that? I felt your balls tighten up, doc. You were right there.”
He smirks. “Control, Reid. It’s all about control.”
Fuck. This guy could teach me a thing or two. All that control. I have none right now. I feel like I could explode. If I touched myself, if Maren so much as breathed on the tip of my cock, I’d paint the ceiling white.
Since one touch would set me off, I turn and position myself on the exam table.
“What are you doing, Reid?” There’s a note of awe in his voice.
“There’s something else I want you to check out. Something that’s been bothering me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.” I shift on the table, paper tearing under my knees. “It aches a little, doc.”
I can hear him breathing behind me. Can feel those eyes on my back. On every exposed inch of me.
“Can you please take a proper look at my ass?”