Chapter 41 Raven
RAVEN
“You’re sure they won’t say anything to anyone?” I ask as Foster ushers me into the waiting room of a tiny doctor’s office.
The outside of the building was nondescript, but the inside is anything but.
Golden bamboo floors spread out across the waiting room with colorful, plush rugs placed across the middle.
Instead of the uncomfortable chairs you’d normally see in a doctor's office, there are myriad soft chairs and stools. The lighting is low and fresh green plants dot the space. It’s obvious this practice has a heavily omega-based clientele.
Ana and Harriett tried to insist I was well enough to continue with my schedule even after I told them several times I was sick.
Foster ended up stepping in and insisting.
He and Ana had a bit of a showdown, but my alpha is more dominant so Coach backed down eventually.
Not without griping at me and mumbling something about me being weak, though.
I know Foster heard her, but he didn’t react, just led us away from the whole situation.
“I made them sign an NDA in addition to typical doctor-patient confidentiality,” Foster assures me.
“How’d you know to do that?” I shift in the chair, unable to get comfortable. Everything has felt sore since leaving the guys an hour ago, but it feels like it’s getting worse.
“My mom’s a lawyer,” Foster answers. Yet another tidbit of insight into the burly bodyguard.
The woman at the front desk gives us a stack of forms to fill out and tells us they’ll call us back soon in broken English.
This isn’t the kind of place tourists come to, so the forms are all in Italian, and Foster has to help me fill them out.
It gets a little embarrassing when I have to tell him the date of my last period and heat cycle, but he stays as professional as ever.
“Raven Novak,” a woman in white scrubs calls with a heavy accent.
She leads us into a little room and says something in rapid Italian. Foster replies in the foreign language, smooth, but much slower. Then she leaves.
“What did she say?” I ask. My joints throb as I climb onto the table. I lay down on my back, too tired to sit up. A low cramp twists my insides, and I reflexively pull my knees into my chest before I realize I’m wearing a skirt.
Foster curses, and I try to straighten my legs back out, but another shot of pain has me curling into an even tighter ball, the movement accompanied by a desperate whimper.
Foster immediately responds, moving to the foot of the bed. He rests his warm hands reassuringly on my bent knees. My skirt’s fallen all the way to my waist, exposing everything. But I can’t bring myself to care. With his hands on me, I feel better. Warmer, but better.
Foster glances down, staring between my legs at the inevitable wet patch on my panties. “She said the doctor stepped out for a house call and isn’t back yet. She thought we’d be more comfortable waiting in here.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable again.
” The fluorescent lights are too bright.
And nothing smells right in here. It doesn’t smell like anything at all.
There’s no spicy chai or sweet butterscotch.
The fresh sting of snow is missing as well as the nutty sweetness of pistachios, cherries, and white chocolate.
“That’s just the bonding sickness talking,” Foster says, his palms moving up and down my shins.
“No… it’s… ahhh.” Another cramp tangles my insides. Empty. So empty. Sweat beads on my brow, and my most sensitive areas pulse and flutter. My scent detonates, heavy and strong and unmistakable.
Foster’s eyes widen, his nostrils flaring as he picks up the scent of my arousal. “Are you having a heat spike?”
I nod, certain that’s what’s happening, though this one has come on so much faster than last time. I don’t feel as lost to the sensations though. My head is clear, but I’m not sure how much longer that will last.
“Help me, alpha,” I whine, squirming against Foster’s hold.
The sterile room feels all wrong, but something about that makes my blood pump a little faster.
The authority Foster always exudes feels even stronger right now.
His alpha dominance rolls over me like a drug, like the medicine I need.
An idea pops into my head, and I add, “Please, doctor.”
Foster falters for a moment, then presses more of his weight into my legs. I silently beg him to play along. Something about role playing makes this feel safer. Like maybe for a moment we can give into whatever this is between us, if we aren’t ourselves, if we pretend.
I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’ll do.
“Mmm, should I give you a thorough examination, omega?” He leans over me with a cocky smirk.
“Not thorough,” I glance at the unlocked door, “fast.”
Foster growls, tugging my panties to the side and sliding one finger straight into my heat without any preamble. There’s no resistance, and it’s not nearly enough.
“Such a needy patient, aren’t you? Such a bad girl getting so wet for your doctor.
” He curls his finger and rubs in a way that has me biting my cheek to keep from screaming.
“Hmm, just as I suspected. The patient responds perfectly to stimulation.” Keeping his finger deep, he taps it repeatedly against my upper wall.
It’s almost too much. I gasp, wiggling. “Stop squirming, Miss Novak. I won’t be able to diagnose you if I can’t properly test you.
” He inserts a second finger, followed immediately by a third.
I’m stretched so full, but it’s still not enough. I try to rip off my shirt, but Foster pins my hands above my head, using his body weight to keep my bent legs trapped against my belly while he fingers me roughly. Finally.
“Y-yes,” I moan.
He pulls his fingers all the way out, rubbing circles over my clit before sinking back in to give the same attention inside.
He alternates with perfect speed and consistent pressure, driving me higher and higher until I can barely focus on the dirty words pouring from his mouth, still in character, no longer my bodyguard, but now something even more taboo.
“Stay still, Miss Novak, or I’ll be forced to tie you down so I can finish my treatment,” Foster growls.
My pussy clenches around his fingers and a burst of slick leaks out of me. A wicked smile tips up my alpha’s lips. “Oh, principessa, did you like that idea? Do you want me to find my ropes, bind you up, make pretty patterns across this pale skin?”
The only thing I can manage is a moan and some semblance of a nod.
“Mmm, you’d look so pretty on your knees, arms bound behind you as I fuck your pretty mouth.
Or maybe I’ll bind your thighs so they’re spread open for me to devour.
You wouldn’t be able to do anything as I make you come over and over and over… ”
Foster’s thumb brushes over my clit as his three fingers aggressively rub my g-spot.
“Y-yes,” I gasp. “I want that.”
Foster nips my earlobe. “Next time. Maybe during your heat?”
“Ye—”
He shoves his fingers in my mouth, cutting me off, his strokes on my clit growing feverish.
I can’t hold back anymore. The orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave, fast and brutal.
Something sounds in the hall, and Foster’s fingers are ripped from my mouth and my pussy at the same time.
I let out a whine, but he’s already trying to right my clothing and sit me up.
I’ve barely pulled myself together before the door opens and an older woman enters. Short grey hair frames her temples, and wrinkles dance around her eyes as she gives us a smile that’s knowing and kind.
“Ah, someone is close to her heat.” She speaks heavily accented English, but with a slow cadence that makes her easy to understand. Her eyes dip down to my chart, and she frowns. “Did you stop taking your suppressants?”
“No. That’s why I’m here. This shouldn’t be happening, right?
” I glance at Foster and immediately look away.
His hair is disheveled from where I gripped it.
His cheeks are rosy. And there’s a tent in his pants that makes a fresh wave of slick drench my already wet panties.
We haven’t had a chance to talk about what just happened.
Should we? Was he just playing a role to help me take the edge off? Or was that something more?
The doctor ignores the new intensity of my scent and sets down the clipboard. “Well, let’s take a look at you.”
She starts by listening to my heart, then takes my temperature and checks my pupils.
“Could meeting her scent matches be why the meds failed?” Foster asks.
The doctor looks up with the stethoscope still in her ear. “You?”
Foster bites his lips, not confirming or denying.
“Um, three other alphas,” I answer, a little sheepish to be discussing this with a stranger.
“Hmm, it’s been known to happen with the older drugs, but meds these days are much stronger.
” She picks up my chart and studies it again, as if she’s reminding herself which medication I’m taking.
“Ah, well, this drug in particular was tested against scent matches. It was a small study, mind you, but subjects were put in a room with their scent matches and none went into heat or even had a spike. Now, they were all already bonded, so…” She slides back across the room on her wheeled stool so she’s right in front of me.
“I’m more concerned that something is wrong with your medication”
She gives us a look I can’t interpret, but Foster seems to understand what she’s alluding to. “Someone tampered with her meds? How?” He stands from his seat, aggression radiating off him.
“Who would want to do that?” I ask at the same time.
The doctor looks from him to me, then gives me a motherly pat on my knee. “I can’t say for certain without looking further into it. Do you have your pills with you?”
“Um, no, they’re back in my room.”
“Well, there’s only one manufacturer of this particular drug, so if they are legitimate, they’ll have an imprint on one side that says 405-O.
” She pulls up a photo on her tablet of what it looks like, showing us a round white pill with the imprint she mentioned.
“It could also be that you were introduced to something that counteracted the effects of the medication.”
“Like what?” Foster gruffs out as he comes to the side of the bed where I’m sitting and takes my hand. I squeeze it in an attempt to calm him down. It’s not the doctor’s fault.
“Here are a number of drug contradictions, but to my knowledge nothing natural that she might run into on her own.” There’s that look again.
“You’re saying she might have been drugged?”
“It’s a possibility.” The doctor watches Foster warily, like he may explode at any second.
“But who? Why?” I ask, still hung up on that question. “What would they gain from that?”
Foster and I share a look, and it’s clear his thoughts are racing just as fast as mine are, swirling around and crashing like rapids as we each try to guess who—or what—really happened.
None of the options are particularly great.
A shiver runs down my spine when I consider the facts I do know.
Someone deliberately tried to harm me, and we don’t know if they’ll try again.