Chapter 22 #2
me. To show me how good he’d feel when he was inside me.
My mouth fell open and a shaky moan came loose.
“You want it all?”
Chills erupted down the back of my neck.
“Yes,” I breathed. It was meant to be coy or provocative, but it came out pleading, because he felt so good.
I looked over my shoulder. Our eyes connected, the lines along his throat grew taut, and he pushed himself in with one swift
motion.
My breath hitched from the light sting from his roughness. But it lit a spark that fanned down my muscles. Overcome, I lay
flush against the desk. He waited a moment before his strokes started slow and deep.
“Fuck.” He groaned. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight.”
My skin pebbled. I rolled my forehead against the cool polished wood, letting the words and that tone wash over me.
“Austin,” I called, wanting more. More contact, more friction, more of him.
I wanted him so intensely that filling and stretching me wasn’t enough. He was stroking me slowly, sensuously. But I wanted him deeper and rougher. I wanted to feel everything I’d been imagining.
“Fuck, you look good.” His breathing went ragged. I looked back again and this time it nearly pushed me over the edge. He watched
where our bodies met intensely for a moment before looking up to me. “Taking every inch like I knew you would.”
His movements became rougher, his fingers pressed firmer against my skin. With each heavy thrust, he got deeper inside. The
hair tie holding my bun came loose and my curls cascaded down my back.
Pants and moans mingled together in an incomprehensible web of sounds and noises that fell out of my mouth. “Harder,” I begged.
With a fist full of my hair, he gave it to me. The sound, the tiny pricks of pain, the overwhelming pleasure all converged
and pushed me over the edge.
It rocked me, knocked me over like a giant wave at the beach. I was pulled under in a flash. Overcome from the pleasure bursting
from the inside out, my legs gave way, and my entire body slumped against the desk as my breath began to slow.
Moments later, Austin helped me to my feet, turned me around, and instead of the dominating version of him that I wasn’t used
to but was enjoying, I got the Austin I was expecting. He pulled me into a gentle kiss. Slow and passionate; laced with something addictive
because I didn’t want it to end.
His one arm stayed tight against me while the other moved up and down my back, a finger tracing my spine, as I caught my breath
against his muscular chest.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded against him, and even though I could keenly feel everything we just did when I moved, I rolled my hips against him. He was still hard. My heart raced.
“I’m not letting that stamina crack go.” His voice lifted from a whisper, and he grasped my chin. “Ready for more?”
I looked up, my teeth sank into my lower lip.
“It was a simple observation,” I said between breaths.
Challenge flared in his eyes. “On the bed. On your back.”
I walked gingerly to the bed, knowing I was going to be sore in the morning. My shaking legs barely held me up as I knelt
on the perfectly made bed waiting for him.
“Isa . . .” he warned, closing the distance between us. “I said on your back.”
I smiled, defiantly. If he wanted me like that, he’d have to do it himself.
He stood at the edge of the bed and pulled me into a searing kiss. This one was anything but sweet; it was hungry and domineering.
Teeth, hands, lips, every part of me buzzed with a need to touch every part of him.
I traced a finger down every rigid dip and rise of his washboard torso. A tortured groan rumbled up his throat when I got
to his navel.
He pulled away, a hair’s distance from my lips, his hands squeezed below the swell of my ass, his expression turned wicked.
Before I knew it, he dropped his hands lower to my legs, then pulled them forward and in one quick motion, and my back hit
the mattress.
It dipped as Austin hovered over me, pushing my legs further apart.
“Doesn’t take instruction well.” He ran the head of his dick along my wet pussy, pushing it in only to pull it back out.
“Oh . . .” I moaned softly. Sparks popped along my hips.
“It’s a shame . . .” He tsked, his hand moving down my body to between my thighs. His thumb found my aching clit and ran progressively firmer strokes
around it, torturing me slowly. “If you’d just do what you were told, I could get to the part you want.”
“Austin . . .” I panted. My fingers carded through his hair, forming a fist when he teased me.
He pushed a finger into me. My head tipped back, and my body bowed into him. A short whimper leaped out of me.
“Isa . . .” He moved the other hand down my thigh and encouraged my leg over his shoulder. “Who’s in charge here?”
My nails dug into his scalp, and I rolled my hips, aching to create some friction against his fingers. His breathing faltered.
“Isa,” he warned through a tight jaw.
At that point I’d have done anything to feel him stretching me again. I was lightheaded; the air was impossibly thick. “You.”
Without another word, he pulled his fingers from me, positioned himself at my entrance, and slid in to the hilt, slow and
purposeful, making sure I felt every single inch.
Electricity moved up my legs. He started slow, leaning down and pressing a few reassuring kisses along my neck before pulling
away. The movements picked up in tempo.
“Don’t ask for a break tonight.” His voice was tight and restrained like it was the only thing keeping him from going completely
undone.
“I don’t need one,” I taunted between powerful thrusts. My head arched into the pillow. “But good for you. It’s important to stay active as you get ol—”
He slammed into me, harder this time, with a satisfied groan. He chuckled—low and controlled—which nearly got lost under the
sound of the increasingly rough strokes.
He panted my name as I barreled to the edge again, so close this time, the room started to blur. The pleasure built, quick
and intense. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. My nerves tingled with waves of consuming heat. Then a second later, a cold
sweat broke over me.
Everything went hazy until his guttural groan filled my ears, pulling me back to the present. He got out of bed momentarily
before rejoining me with a deep kiss.
My hand ran along his neck until my fingertips combed back a lock of tawny brown hair. He pulled up to look at me, and I pushed
away some that had fallen over his forehead.
“Are you okay?” he whispered. He was so close that his blue eyes were almost gray at the edges.
I hummed in sated reassurance, relishing how good he felt.
How good all of this felt.
Our legs intertwined, we lay there, and the thin film of sweat began to evaporate. I nestled in his arms; I outstretched my
own and looked at the now burgundy-color pattern on my palm. “Look at that, no smears.”
“Good for us.” Austin’s chest rumbled with a chuckle. “Keeping our hands to ourselves for an entire evening,” he drawled sarcastically and pressed a kiss on my head.
It was intimate.
A different kind of intimate than what we’d just done.
The gesture rang clarity between my ears.
My heavy eyelids became lighter, and I fully realized we’d crossed a line we hadn’t actually talked about crossing. If this wedding had taught me anything, it was that knowing where you stood was important. Because
maybe if I’d known that with Blake, I wouldn’t have spun out the way I did when I heard about his engagement. I never wanted
to feel that safety yanked away from me again.
My body caught up with my mind. “We should probably talk about that, right?” I whispered against his chest.
I didn’t want this to stop because that was great. More than great. But I had a bare-bones kind of life right now. I couldn’t do a real relationship with everything
else going on, and in the future the fellowship would only make it harder.
Most men I’d encountered were intimidated by me. No matter how feminist they proclaimed to be, they’d hear the things I wanted—an
independent life, maybe without children—and scoff, assuming I’d “come around.” I didn’t neatly fit in the box they’d ascribed.
Surgery instead of a “family friendly” specialty like pediatrics or internal medicine. Fellowships and research instead of
“settling down.” A life lived in service to my own goals rather than in service of a family.
But if I made the boundaries clear early on, maybe I could avoid all that. I was having fun right now, a kind of fun I hadn’t
had in a long time. I didn’t want this to stop. I wanted to enjoy myself while it lasted. As long as we were clear with each
other, we could avoid those pitfalls. Right?
“Talking is the last thing I was thinking about.” His voice, gravelly and deep, scrambled everything. He dipped his head down, brushing his lips in a few sweeps against my lips and cheek.
A delightful static spindled around my spine, moving lower with each purposefully teasing brush.
“Oh?” I ran my teeth over my lower lip. “Is it because of the little crush you have on me?”
A smile touched his lips, and he shook his head. Then, not taking a second for me to process it, he rolled me onto my back.
“It’s a big one.”
My stomach did cartwheels, probably from the sudden change in position and the feeling of his muscular body pressed against
mine. But still, the words—direct and forthright—were a surprise. The willingness to put his intentions out there, vulnerable
to attack, was a choice.
“We’re having fun, so we might as well enjoy ourselves until the wedding is over.” I pushed my fingers through his hair. “Right?”
I was having trouble being as direct as he was. Because I liked him, but at the same time, I wasn’t in any position to be
putting my feelings first. I had a life and plans to get home to, and so did he.
He paused for a moment, brushing a loose curl out of my face. “Really committing to the bit, huh?”
“It could be fun,” I teased, running a finger up that unreasonably solid chest. “And we clearly play well together.”
He chuckled, low and rich. It warmed me.
“Sounds good to me, Doc.” He pressed a kiss against my lips.
Maybe this was exactly what I needed.