Chapter 21 Margeaux
MARGEAUX
My insides turn to mush when he calls me ‘beautiful.’ I like that he so easily hands over the reins and is comfortable with me controlling the situation.
It tells me that he’s following my lead, rather than dictating what he thinks I should do.
And at this moment, I need all the control.
I need to dictate what does and doesn’t happen.
Right now, I need Doctor Jon naked with soapy water all over his body, with his strong hands all over mine.
I do my best sexy strut to the single bathroom in my apartment.
It’s not much. It’s a typical mass-produced bathroom with all white tile, a white shower-bath combination, a white toilet, and a white sink and vanity.
One of the everyday nuisances of being a woman blessed with height is how low the sink is.
I also struggle to find showers that I can fit under or have room to move around without feeling claustrophobic.
My bathroom has a decent-sized shower, but my sink is about half a foot lower than I’d like it to be.
Keeping my back to him, I strip my shirt off, it’s still sweaty from training. I get a little self-conscious because I know I don’t smell great, but I’ve started this and I’m committed to seeing this through. I need this. I need him.
“No back tattoos? That’s surprising,” he says, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed. I literally beat the shit out of this guy five minutes ago, and now, he’s watching me undress for a shower. What is he even doing here?
I look at him over my shoulder and get a good look at him. He’s in a simple pair of pants and a black sweater. He’s such a prep.
“Yea, I have ideas for a back piece. Just need to decide on it, and then pick the right artist,” I tell him over my shoulder.
“What kind of design are you thinking?” he asks. I’m doing my best to conceal my smile. I’m really glad he’s here. Not just because I’m freaked out over my creepy stalker. Jon helps me feel more calm. I don’t know how he has this effect on me. We barely know each other.
Making well-thought out decisions isn’t exactly my forte. When it comes to Jon, it doesn’t seem like a bad decision. Are we completely, one hundred percent wrong for each other? Absolutely. Do I still want him? Fuck yes.
I turn the shower on, closing the dark blue shower curtain to trap in the steam and heat. “A sand timer,” I say, remembering he asked me a question.
“A sand timer?”
“Yea. A broken sand timer. Where the glass is broken at the bottom and the sand is leaking out.”
“What’s the symbolism behind that for you?”
“That time escapes us, and we can’t get it back. It’s better to live in the moment and live your life the way you want it. No regrets.”
“You don’t have any regrets?” he asks.
I gasp, feeling like the wind got knocked out of me.
“Just one.” I shiver, refusing to think about that night right now. “You?”
“Plenty,” he chuckles to himself. “Too many.”
I give him a second, in case he wants to talk about one of those regrets.
“So, a broken sand timer. A reminder to live in the moment,” he says.
“Mmmhm.”
I lean back against the too-small sink in my leggings and sports bra. Jon is still leaning against the doorway. Steam is filling this small bathroom. It’s getting hot.
“Hm. Interesting perspective. Is that why you like to be impulsive? Reckless?” He arches a thick, brown brow at me.
“I’m not reckless. I just don’t spend as much time weighing the pros and cons of a situation. Life should be fun. I don’t want to look back at my life in twenty-five, thirty years, and wish I’d lived more.”
“Is that what we’re doing right now? Making a not-so-calculated decision? Living life. Having fun.”
“Are you not having fun, Doc?” I smile at him. I glance at his crotch, and I can see his dick firming up beneath his pants.
“I never said that. I guess I’m just making a lot of reckless decisions since meeting you.”
Between his heated gaze, his busted lip, and all this fucking steam, I need to cool off somehow.
I shimmy my leggings down my legs. Taking leggings off sweaty and sticky legs is not a sexy look.
And, of course, they get fucking stuck around my ankles.
I yank them off, making the fabric snap from the tension.
Jon gives a small laugh at my expense. I brush it off and give him an expression that says, I meant to do that.
“Like what?” I ask, playing dumb. Sweat is dripping down his temples and getting lost in the neckline of that preppy sweater he’s wearing so well.
The sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, showing his lean forearms. I never noticed the separation of the muscles in his lower arm, and the veins pulsing on the back of his hands.
He finally pushes off the doorway and takes a step into the bathroom.
“Like, getting me to make out with you in a gym locker room.”
“Hm. You didn’t seem to hate that, until someone almost caught us.”
He winces at that comment. “I was scared.” He pauses and wipes his sweaty forehead.
“Let’s add that to my list of regrets.” He admits, looking away from me.
I hold my breath, thinking he’s about to say he regretted us kissing.
“I regret running from you, Margeaux. I wish I could say I ran because I didn’t want some other guy to see you in that way.
That I didn’t want anyone else to hear your little moans when I touched you.
Cause you get so sensitive when I kiss you. You know that, Beautiful?”
“And now? You still scared?” I ask.
“Terrified,” he admits.
My thin black panties– effectively drenched.
“What else, Doc?” I swallow a nervous gulp, loving his possessive dirty talk.
“The truth is, Beautiful, the moment I saw you that first night at the bar, I was a goner for you. There’s just something about you. I can’t look away. And I instinctively hate any other man who looks at you. Who tries to touch you.”
This man has me unraveling.
“You saying I’m yours or something, Doc?” I do my best to sound bratty and tease him like I don’t already know the answer to this question.
“I don’t know if you’re mine. But I can say with absolute honesty and certainty, that I am so fucking yours, Margeaux.”
I’m not sure who moves first but his arms are around my waist and mine are around his neck.
The kiss is deep and powerful. Jon may not be a big guy, but he’s strong where it matters.
His hands dance up and down my back, not caring that I’m dripping with sweat.
I tug the neck of his boring, yet sexy, sweater.
I toss it to the side and take in his lean torso that’s peppered in dark hair.
I can’t help but run my fingers through it, appreciating how rough and manly his chest feels.
His lips are back on me, and he lightly tugs my bottom lip.
“Mnnnh. Fuck,” I moan.
He kisses my neck, and my knees melt for him. Am I about to let Doctor Jon fuck me in my too-small bathroom? “Face the mirror, beautiful.”
Oh, hell the fuck yes. Nice to meet you, Dirty Doc.
He slides his hands up to the hem of my sports bra and I cringe thinking of how sweaty it must feel, but he doesn’t bat an eyelash.
He shoves the restrictive fabric upwards, and I lift my arms. It’s cute that the tips of his fingers don’t reach my hands when they’re stretched overhead.
I shimmy my bra the rest of the way and hear it smack against the tile floor.
“Now these,” he says as he hooks his fingers into my panties. I flex my hip and lift my right leg, and he slides the thin cotton off one ankle and then the next.
His eyes drink up every inch of me and I’m feeling a sudden rush of shyness.
“You’re so beautiful.” He traces his fingers up my thigh, keeping his touch light as he continues over my navel, and finally up to my tits where he barely grazes my pierced nipples. I arch into him, my low back pressing against the porcelain pedestal sink.
He moves his hands to my hips and puts opposing pressure on them. I spin around and see him looking over my shoulder at our reflection in the mirror. He grabs both my tits and gently massages them, pinching my nipples between his fingers.
“I could play with these all day,” he rasps, applying more pressure to my nipples and I feel myself dripping between my thighs.
I bend over the sink, pushing my ass against his crotch, which is still covered in corduroy. Fucking corduroy!
“Doc, you have one minute to lose those pants and show me that thick dick, or I’m kicking you out and taking a very cold and lonely shower.”
“So impatient,” he teases, giving my right ass cheek a playful swat.
I hear him quickly unbuckling and unzipping his pants. At least he isn’t trying to test me. I’m dead serious that I need this guy so badly.
“Condom?” he asks. His fingers glide between my thighs and he finds my clit, giving it soft pressure in circular motions.
“Oooh. Mmmm. I’m on the pill,” I moan wishing his finger would move a little faster.
“Still…”
“You saying I’m a dirty girl, Doc?” I meet his eyes in the mirror. He keeps playing with my clit, getting me even wetter.
“Margeaux,” he says sternly and my pussy clenches at the rough tremble of his voice.
“Mmm…Fine.” I open the mirror cabinet in front of me and fumble around looking for the box of condoms. I find it and toss it over my shoulder to him. “Unopened. See, not so naughty, Doc.”
“You’re plenty naughty. Don’t try to guilt me into feeling bad for wanting to keep you safe.”
I bite my bottom lip, feeling a weird mixture of feelings. Embarrassed for suggesting he fuck me without a condom, and appreciation for the warm sentiment behind his words. He wants to keep me safe.
I hear the sounds of the wrapper tearing and I get this rush of anxiousness. I’m about to have sex with this good-natured, life-saving doctor.
“Ready?” he asks, pressing the tip of his thick cock against my slick entrance. Fuck. I’m not a virgin, but something about being with Jon feels…special.
“So ready. Please, Doc.”
He eases the head of his dick inside. “Fuuuuck. So thick,” I moan, gripping the edge of the sink as his fat cock slides into my pussy, stretching me.
“So tight. Fuck!”
He’s all the way inside me and I am being thoroughly and perfectly stretched. Doctor Jon has the fattest dick I’ve ever seen. He pulls out, keeping only the tip in and we time our movements perfectly. He thrusts, I grind, and our hips clap together with a firm smack.
“Mmmm…Yes. Your ass is amazing, Beautiful. I could stare at it all day.” His hands massage into the thick muscles of my ass.
“Look up. Watch me. Look at how beautiful you are right now.” He gives my hair a gentle tug, angling my head up and I see him.
I wipe the fog away from the steamy shower and we connect.
His dark hair is a mess of waves. His short stubble gives him this edgy and wild look. His lean muscles are flexing with every thrust and movement he makes. He keeps talking, mumbling sexy little compliments the entire time that have me nearing the edge of my orgasm.
“So beautiful.”
Thrust.
“So perfect.”
Thrust.
“Fuck, Margeaux. You feel so good. Your pussy feels so fucking good.”
“Jon! Ummph.” I bite my lips, not wanting to be loud.
He thrusts harder and my pussy welcomes the rough stretch of his hard and thick cock.
“Let me hear you, Margeaux. Tell me how it feels,” he groans. His dark, brown eyes look into mine in the mirror.
“Fuck. You look so good fucking me, Jon. You’re so thick!” I yell as the head of his cock perfectly connects with my G-spot. “Yes! Just like that! Ooohhh. There. There. Right there!”
“Yes! That’s it, Beautiful. Fuck I feel you. Your pussy’s tightening around me. So fucking pretty. So perfect. Come for me, Margeaux.”
As if I could ignore his command. I’ve trained my body to be strong and indestructible. And this short, too-nice, dirty talking doctor is bringing me to my knees. He moves his hands strategically, one hand going to my clit again, the other to my nipple and he has me lit up from every nerve ending.
“Jon! I’m coming! I’m coming!” I scream into the mirror. Our eyes never leave each other’s, and it has my squirming even more as my body lets go and surrenders to this man who is my opposite in every way.
“Yes! So beautifully perfect! I’m all yours, baby. I’m all yours!” he yells at our reflections as his dick throbs, pulsing inside my well-fucked pussy.
Jon slowly pulls out of me, and I let my body go lax, sinking down to the tiled floor.
He kisses the tattoo on my right shoulder, gently scratching my skin with his day-old stubble.
He leans over me and reaches for the small trash bin, throwing away the tied-off condom filled with his cum.
I lick my lips and pout as I watch it disappear in the bin.
I’m fucking envious of latex. My pussy throbs with gentle pulses, confirming my feelings. Next time, I want every drop of jon inside of me.