The Bind

21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Colter

I make it three more days before the thread holding me back from claiming Annaliese snaps.

I’ve felt the bands surrounding my chest grow tighter with each interaction. Every time her face lights up as I enter the room, the band twists a little more.

It’s so damn tight that I woke up this morning barely able to breathe after dreaming about her all night long, wondering how I’m going to survive like this.

The first string started to fray the moment I saw her this morning. She waltzed into my office with her coffee mug in hand, hair still damp from her shower, with her coconut scent radiating across my desk and infiltrating my senses. Once I was nearly dizzy from the smell, she pursed her lips and blew the steam from her mug, and I wished her lips would do that to my cock.

Snap.

I managed to hold it together when we were in the OR. But I soon caught myself watching the expressions on her face instead of her hands working on our patient. I’ve studied her so much that I don’t need to see her full face to know what she’s thinking. Her mask allows me to see her eyes, which is all I need.

She squints, just a little, when she’s concentrating. The skin on the inner corner of her eye crinkles a bit and I know that she’s pursed her lips together, moving them from side to side as she ponders her next step.

Her face is relaxed when she’s in the zone and listening to the god-awful 80s heartthrob playlist I’ve now allowed to play. Every once in a while she will tap her head to the side along with the beat, and I know she’s mouthing the words behind the mask.

But my favorite is when she senses my gaze on her and her eyes flick up to mine. Round, dark chocolate, and so deep I have to catch my breath. They’re wide and still for a second until her cheeks rise and I know there is a full-fledged smile under her mask. She catches me every time and I don’t care.

Snap.

I’m hanging by one spindly, barren fiber by the end of the day when Richard stops me. I’ve just finished consulting with another attending for a big case next week, ready to march back to my office and suffer through another excruciating meeting with Annaliese about her research project when Richard catches me walking by.

He calls my name, and I find myself rolling my eyes as I stop in place, spinning on a heel to turn back to his office.

I’ve strayed from our routine this last month or so. Once I let my feelings for Annaliese dictate my every thought, I no longer have the desire to meet with her dad each morning to leisurely sip coffee in his office. I no longer follow up to see how his day is going in between cases, or to catch a drink after work with him.

I am utterly, and entirely, consumed by his daughter instead.

The guilt that follows that thought eats away at me somewhat, but the knowledge that he doesn’t deserve to have her love and respect counteracts some of that guilt.

“Richard,” I greet, crossing the threshold and standing in front of his desk with my hands on my hips. “I’m kind of in a rush, what can I do for you?”

He steeples his hands together and rests his chin on his pointer finger as he stares at me, silently. I leave my hands on my hips, giving him the same unapproving look back as we face off.

He leans back in his chair, a hand coming forward to gesture at the seat in front of his desk. Even though the tension has blanketed our relationship, he is still my superior, and a man I once respected. So I exhale roughly and close the door behind me before taking a seat at his desk. “What’s going on?”

“I just wanted an update on how my daughter is handling herself.”

“She’s doing great.” I don’t even pause to try to lie to him. She is doing great. Better than great. She’s further along than most second-year residents are, and it’s exciting to watch. Even if I wasn’t spellbound by her as a woman, it’d be impossible not to love watching her work in the OR. Her passion doesn’t falter against the exhaustion that comes with eighty-hour workweeks or wild on-call shifts. Her beautiful brain is always working, thinking, dissecting the research she’s reading, and soaking in every experience laid out for her.

Richard’s expression shows how displeased he is, and I groan, leaning back as I run a hand through my hair. “I know you don’t want her to leave in a few months, I get that.” He has no idea how much I truly get that, especially now. “But put yourself in my shoes. You want her to be a successful doctor, yes? There isn’t a way to encourage someone to continue through their residency while simultaneously getting them to hate what they do. If you want her to move back to the States and work closer to you, then why don’t you, I don’t know…” I shrug, “get to know her. Take her out to dinner and learn about what she’s been up to since she was a teenager. Ask her what she likes, Richard. Maybe reconsider your stance on her becoming a surgeon.”

He cocks a brow. “You’re speaking like someone who knows my daughter on a more… personal level. One that wouldn’t be appropriate for an attending to be on. Especially one much, much older than her.”

The tiny hairs on the back of my neck rise with his words, but I school my expression. “I’m speaking as a trusted attending who has seen a lot of residents move through this hospital. I’m speaking as your trusted friend , who is telling you that you should be proud of your daughter.” I’m speaking as someone who has fallen head over heels for a woman who is completely out of my league.

It’s Richard’s turn to sigh. He pulls his glasses from his face and tosses them on the desk in front of him. With both hands he vigorously rubs up and down his face. “I have to make difficult decisions every day of my life, Dr. Andrews. In my personal life, when I have a patient on the operating table, and as Chief. I have to make decisions that others may not like, but they’re decisions that allow me to obtain my desired outcome.”

“And what is your desired outcome when it comes to your daughter?”

He pauses to think for a moment, pulling his glasses from the desk and reaching his free hand out to open a side drawer. He takes out a silk cloth and rubs the fabric over the lens of his glasses in slow, circular movements. He watches his hands as he lets the awkwardness ride out between us.

When he’s satisfied with his polish, he tosses the cloth back into his drawer and slams it shut. “My desired outcome is my daughter living stateside, and not being a surgeon. I’ve worked my whole life to build my career and reputation into what it is today; I won’t have her mistakes soiling my hard work.”

I stare at him in disbelief. How someone can be so bullheaded, so arrogant, that they refuse to believe when another compliments his daughter is something I’ll never grow to understand.

The sexist comments he has made over the years about women, about his ex-wife and alimony checks, and remarks behind the backs of his inappropriately younger girlfriends I thought were all made as jokes. Jokes in poor taste, but jokes.

But now I see it. The most alluring woman I have ever known was raised by a man who led her to believe she didn’t have what it takes, because in his own cruel mind, he actually believes that.

I stand abruptly, ready to excuse myself when Richard calls out after me.

“Don’t let our history impede your judgement with Annaliese.”

Snap.

The final, spindly string that had held me back breaks. My chest expands, and I’m able to take my first full breath.

I’m thankful he can’t see my face because it’d show him that he’s a joke. That I did let my history with him impede my judgement with her. I pushed her away, hurt her, both physically and emotionally, wasted months between us when I should have known better, all in Richard’s name.

I spin on a heel, keeping my expression neutral as I look him in the eye. “I promise you, Richard. I’m ready to do exactly what needs to be done.”

He takes my words as I expected and a slimy smirk moves across his face. I nod, excusing myself as I leave his office.

I shut his door behind me, moving swiftly down the hall to my own office. Staff roaming the halls are a blur as my mind is focused on one thing, and one thing only.

She’s right where I expected her to be, perched in her chair with her legs crossed. Still wearing her scrubs from our last case and bouncing her knee erratically as she reads through the papers in her hand. She turns at the sound of my door shutting, smiling since she knows it’s me, but that smile turns to confusion when she sees the look on my face.

“Colt, what’s wrong?”

Snap.

I click the lock shut behind me, and in two strides I’m next to her. I pull the papers from her hands and toss them on the desk. She gives me a puzzled look, reaching over to grab her papers again.

“Seriously, what’s wrong? What are you doing?” Her worried eyes search my face, but they won’t find anything.

I tug the documents from her hand again and toss them on the desk next to us, not caring when most of them scatter to the floor. When she lifts herself from the chair to gather them, I grip her hips, forcing our bodies together. My hands slide around her hips to land on her ass, and she gasps, bottom lip popping open. She likely plans to question if I’ve lost my damn mind, but when I use my hold on her ass to lift her up, she lets out another small gasp.

Her legs wrap around my waist and she crosses her ankles as I spin us around until her back is pressed firmly against the wall.

Her hands come up to grip my face, thumbs pressing against my cheek bones. “Colt, what… what are you doing?” She is as breathless as I feel, her chest rising and falling with rapid movements.

“I’m doing what I should have been doing for the last four months, Annaliese.”

I’m about to crash my mouth to hers, to finally give in to the gut-wrenching desire I’ve tried to stifle, when she stops me.

Her hands grip my face tighter, pulling me back just a hair so she can look directly into my eyes.

Our position has her a head taller than me, and with her gaze peering down at me, it’s all I can do to stare back at her, allowing myself to get lost in those dark orbs.

“Colt,” she says, darting her tongue out to lick her lips. “If you’re going to kiss me, you better fucking mean it.”

Her comment is a last-ditch effort for both of us. To let me know that if we kiss and cross that line, it changes everything. She’s giving me a chance to think about what I want. She’s asking about me , just like she always does.

I press my forehead to hers, doing my due diligence and allowing myself to think for a moment, but it doesn’t take more than a fraction of a second to know what my answer is. It’s her. It will always be her. I let a slow smile spread across my face as I lick my lips, one hand coming around to squeeze the back of her neck as I look up and soak in those chocolate eyes I’ve come to admire so much.

With a slow curl of my lip, I smile, pull her close, and crash our lips together.

A painful, guttural groan escapes me the moment I taste her. It’s more than I expected, better than I could have ever anticipated. We both inhale sharply at the contact and the burst of energy that’s released between us. She lets out tiny whimpers every time I grind against her, her body melting into mine as I press her firmly against the wall.

I pull back, just a hair, just enough to catch the expression on her face. Her lips are parted, hooded eyes drunk with lust, and I’m sure it’s the same feeling she sees reflected in mine. I find her lips again, kissing her until we’re breathless before moving my tongue along her slender neck, sweeping down her skin where I find her pulse, pausing over its heavy thump. I’m probably moving too fast, too ravenous, but my body is desperate for her. Desperate to make up for all of the months I’ve spent wanting, but not being able to touch.

“Colter,” she groans as she tightens her legs around my waist. She rolls her hips at the same time I grind against her, and we both release a slew of curses.

“Fuck,” I groan into her neck before looking up to meet her eyes.

She smirks in response, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and rolling her hips against mine once more. My dick is painfully hard, ready to burst through my scrub pants. If I thought I’d snapped before, then I was mistaken, because something bursts inside my core. Something feral, almost cave-man, awakens in me and I spin us around, fumbling toward my desk to lay her down. I shove everything to the side; my laptop falls to the floor, my chair is kicked back and bangs against the wall, but I don’t remove my eyes from her body.

I lay her down on the bed of research papers and hover over her while I will myself to slow the pace and savor some part of this moment between us even though my body is screaming otherwise. I want her so badly my vision blurs, but I won’t fuck her in my office.

The first time I take her it’ll be in my home with the playground of a California King bed underneath us. I want to take my time to figure out what makes her scream, and I want her to be able to scream when there isn’t an entire shift of surgical staff outside of the room, including her dad.

I kiss her face, her neck, moving my body down hers until I reach the space where her scrub top meets her pants. Gathering the hem of her top in my fists, I lift it up, exposing her tan, toned stomach.

Her stomach dips with every brush of my lips, and I taste every inch of her I can find. My mouth explores her body, moving up to her chest to push her shirt up and over her bra, pulling one of her peaked nipples into my mouth. She whimpers under my touch, her hands raking through my hair to pull me closer.

“Colter,” she whines, pulling my face up to kiss me.

I murmur against her mouth, bracketing my arms on each side of her head to hold my weight, rocking my cock against her core.

“I want you,” she whispers, and I smile into her next kiss.

“You have me, baby. I'm yours. Tell me what you need.” I'll do whatever she asks of me. Any fucking thing she needs, she can have it.

“I need you to fuck me.”

My movements startle, lips forming into a smile against her skin. “I plan to fuck you, baby, believe me,” I promise, rising so I can latch onto the side of her neck. She squirms against the contact, simultaneously wiggling away while pushing herself further into my lips. “But I can’t, not here.” I say it to both her and myself, but I know if she begged, I’d eventually cave and fuck her so hard we’d splinter my desk.

“Actually,” she breathes, gripping my face to pull it to hers. “You can, I promise. I’ll walk you through it if you’re scared.”

I rise onto my forearms just in time to catch the smirk she tries to hide. “Are you always going to find a way to sass me?”

She nods slowly, her bottom lip tucked tightly between her teeth.

The ragged haze around us settles, and I take in the sight of her. Her face is flushed, the beautiful red blush crawling down to her heaving chest. I bring a finger up and trace the outline of my teeth marks against her neck. She’s so beautiful it hurts, and now she’s mine.

“Touch me, Colt,” she says, so softly I barely hear her.

Fuck. I exhale a rash breath, lowering my body to lay against her chest. If my girl wants me to touch her, taste her, then I'll do just that. I'll bury my face between those sweet legs until she screams my name.

I brush my lips against hers as my hands roam down her body and legs until I slip her shoes off. My fingers then curl around the waistband of her scrubs, and with my face buried in her neck, I slide them off, leaving her naked from the waist down with the exception of a nude, lace thong.

I flop into my chair, leaning back to admire the view in front of me. She’s lying with her back on my desk, the position putting her perfect pussy at face level, and I take my time staring at her, wanting to etch this view into memory.

Annaliese props herself up on her palms, legs still spread as she sits up. She must notice where my eyes are fixated, because my little vixen gives me a knowing smile as she spreads her legs wider. Her heels are propped on the corners of my desk, and the movement leaves barely any fabric covering her pussy.

Through the strained nude fabric I can see how wet she is for me, and I scoot my chair in, reaching a hand out to palm her core.

Her head falls back as my fingertips circle slowly over her clit through the damp cloth. Her hips rock forward, searching for more, nearly begging me, and I won’t leave my girl hanging.

“Tsk, tsk,” I tease, pulling my hand back.

“I need…” she whines, but her whines are stifled when I slide my pointer finger under the side of her panties, brushing the back of my knuckle against her bare cunt.

“What do you need, baby?” Tell me, I beg to her . I’ll give you anything you need. “Do you need me to touch you? Something just to take the edge off?”

“More than that,” she grunts, her hips beginning to rock against my hand.

“How badly do you need it?” I love hearing her moans, knowing that these last few months she has been dying for me as much as I have been living for her. I want to know that she thinks about this, too. That she’s spent just as many restless nights thinking what it’d be like if I were to fuck her.

“I just … I need …” she grits out with her bottom lip falling open. She reaches for me, but I lean just out of reach.

“You need me to do what? Kiss you? Lick this pretty pussy?”

“Let me ride you.”

Alright. Not what I was expecting at all, but when the words roll off her tongue my cock twitches, and I loosen the tie on my scrub pants to give it some space.

“You can’t wait to sit on this dick, can you baby?” I muse, leaning forward to tug on her underwear. When the fabric is taut, I release it, and she squeals when it slaps her wet skin.

“Shhhh, we wouldn’t want anyone wondering what we’re up to, now would we?” I keep my voice low and slow, trying not to laugh as she lies back down, her hand scrubbing over her face.

“You’re killing me,” she whispers from under her palm. “I’m going to die from being turned on so much and you have the audacity to laugh at my pain. You truly are an asshole.”

I chuckle at that and stand up to lean over her body. I drop myself on her so we are chest to chest and capture her mouth in a slow kiss, taking my time to swirl my tongue into her mouth. But when she rakes her fingers through my hair and tugs me toward her, rocking her hips up to grind against me, I lose all control.

“Taste me, Colter. Please.”

Please . That one word from her is all it takes. My hands find her hips and I curl my fingertips under the sides of her thong as I slide it down her long legs. I get one leg out before her full cunt is on display for me and I forget about the other leg. I let her thong hang from her ankle.

It’d be so easy to fuck her right here, right on my desk with the world outside. She's at the perfect height that I could slide right inside her and the temptation is almost more than I can take.

But I heave in a breath, forcing myself to have some restraint. I take my seat at my desk, and move my chair forward to curl my hands under her ass. She rolls her hips up to meet me, and I bring a finger up to swipe through her center, finding her soaked.

“Jeez, baby, is this all for me?”

She whimpers in response, inching herself lower on the desk and closer to me. And with a slow, leisurely swipe, I lick from her center to the top of her clit, pausing to swirl my tongue once I reach my favorite part.

She bucks when I reach her clit while bringing her hand up to slap over her mouth.

I grin, knowing that I have her at my mercy. Getting to touch, taste, and explore this body while she’s fighting to keep herself from screaming carbonates my blood.

I continue my slow torture, licking and sucking her perfect pussy, swirling my tongue against her skin like I did her mouth. When I take two fingers and slide them into her, she releases the hottest moan I have ever heard.

“Baby,” I grunt as I pump my fingers in the same rhythm as my tongue. My free hand squeezes her ass, and I wish for a moment I had her on her knees, sitting on my face so I could have both hands free to roam over her perfect body.

Instead, I take my free hand and bring it to the waistband of my scrubs, pulling the fabric down to free my dick from my pants and briefs. It bobs free, precum already seeping from the tip. I meant to give it a few strokes just to release the pressure, but with my fingers in her tight little heat and my tongue tasting her, each stroke feels better than the first.

“Colt,” she chokes out, hips bucking against my hand. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

“You’re going to come, baby,” I tell her. “You’re going to make a mess of me, and I fucking love it.” It’s fitting that she makes a mess all over my hand. My desk. My face. It’s only fair since she’s already made a mess of my head and my heart that she makes a mess out of everything else. It’ll be something to remember her by once she leaves.

I’ve never had this feeling before. Where pleasuring a woman turns me on so much that I’m pretty sure I’m going to come without being touched in return. With each firm stroke of my cock, and each groan that echoes from my office walls as I bury my face in her, that familiar feeling emerges. My balls tighten up as her breaths quicken, and when I adjust my hand to stick a third finger in, I curl them just right and she detonates.

She slaps a hand back over her mouth, hips rocking up and down, ankles crossing over my shoulders as she squeezes around my fingers, and before I know it I’m spilling all over my hand, fisting myself as I cum on the carpet underneath my desk.

I fight through my own orgasm as I continue to work her through hers, wanting to feel every last twitch her body has to offer.

She eventually relaxes, legs still trembling, but when I pull my fingers out, she sits up on her hands, her gorgeous face flushed with satisfaction. She looks at my cock, the cum dripping over my hand, and back to my face.

I smirk in satisfaction, bringing the fingers that were just inside of her to my mouth for a taste, loving how her mouth drops open in shock. Tucking my cock back in my pants, I reach for her hips to slide her off the desk and into my lap. She falls into me easily, body spent from her orgasm, and she straddles me, her head coming to rest on my shoulder.

“That was insane.”

“That was insane,” I echo, wrapping my arms around her to pull her closer to me.

“Is it weird if I’m sad you came already? I’ve had fantasies of hiding under your desk so I can suck your cock. Your massive cock, by the way. No wonder you walk around with that big dick energy.”

“Jeez woman.” I pull her back by the shoulders to see the devilish smirk on her face. “You aren’t the innocent girl you make yourself out to be, are you?”

She kisses me once, then twice, then again as her arms wrap around me. Within seconds she’s grinding herself on me, and I feel my cock hardening at the feel of her, still without her underwear on.

“It’s what you do to me; I can’t help myself.”

Me either.

She reaches a hand down to stroke me, but I stop her. The pouty, disappointed look she gives me has me laughing, and I move my hands up to cradle her face. “Not here, baby. I’m not fucking you for the first time in my office. You’re coming back to my place, and I’m putting you in my bed, and I’m going to fuck you all night long, in every position we can think of. I want to hear you scream so loud the neighbors want to call the cops, and tomorrow, I want to hear you whine about how sore you are between those perfect legs.”

She grins, her exquisite smile on display for me as she leans into another kiss before standing. She reaches down for her panties, and I watch as she steps into them, shimmying the fabric up her legs, and then follows with her scrubs. I almost change my mind in that moment as my hands twitch, ready to bend her over my desk and take her right now, but she reaches a hand out for mine, pulling me up to stand.

“Take me home, Colter.”