Chapter 17 #2
The combined sensations were too much. Dr. Carter cried out my name, the sound guttural and raw, her body arching violently off the sofa.
Fuck, hearing her say my name like that, now that was my favourite way to hear it.
She came almost immediately, a deep, shuddering, full-body orgasm that squeezed my fingers and left her trembling and breathless beneath me.
I felt the involuntary pulses against my hand, and the wave of power that washed over me was absolute.
Forty minutes.
I wasn't about to waste the minutes she'd so carelessly given me. The sushi wasn't there yet, and I was far from finished.
I pulled my fingers out, the sound slick and loud in the quiet room, ignoring the low, questioning moan Dr. Carter emitted. Her body was spent, but her eyes were already wide with curiosity and a rekindling heat.
I slid further down her body, settling myself comfortably between her legs.
I was fucking desperate to taste her properly, and the remnants of her fresh release were the perfect appetiser.
I immediately began licking her clit, starting with gentle, slow strokes to build her up again.
The taste was intoxicating—salty, sweet, and undeniably her.
I licked up her release, cleaning her eagerly, savouring the intimacy and the power of knowing I could bring her back to the edge so quickly.
I wanted more fucking sounds, more reactions, and another shuddering arch of her body beneath my mouth.
The clock was ticking, and I intended to use every fucking second.
I lost myself completely. The warmth of her skin, the musk of her arousal, the pure taste—it was consuming. The intensity of focusing only on her pleasure felt like a wild, reckless freedom. I pressed my mouth harder against her, my tongue working with a demanding rhythm.
Dr. Carter’s hand dropped, her fingers lacing into my hair, the gesture possessive, but she was clearly confused.
"Alex..." she whispered, her voice rough, a hint of protest in the sound. "We have dinner coming. This wasn't the..."
I didn't let her finish. I knew what she meant—this level of sustained, focused effort wasn't the deal for a quick 'reward' session. But I was intoxicated by the taste of her, by the power I had over her body.
I pulled back just enough to speak, my voice muffled and fierce against her damp skin.
"It is the deal," I insisted, not breaking the rhythm of my tongue entirely.
"If I'm going to prove how good I can be, I'm not going to waste any time I've been given.
" I plunged back in, driving her attention back to the pleasure, silencing any further objections with immediate, overwhelming sensation.
My relentless focus paid off. I kept up the pace, maintaining a fierce, driving rhythm that refused to let her sink into spent relaxation. The sounds spilling from Dr. Carter tightened into high, sharp gasps, her hand tangling into my hair and clenching into a fist.
Fuck, I loved that.
Then, with a sudden, beautiful surge, her body tensed completely. She cried out—a sharp, muffled sound of pure shock and release—her hips lifting violently toward my mouth.
I brought her to a second orgasm, just as deep and shuddering as the first, and as the wave of pleasure overtook her, a groan of pure satisfaction rumbled in my chest. The rush of her release coated my tongue, hot and slick, and I greedily swallowed it, savouring the final, triumphant taste of her complete surrender.
The sheer power of bringing her over the edge twice in quick succession left me trembling, high on adrenaline and the knowledge of what I had just accomplished.
I fucking did that; Dr. Carter was naked and trembling underneath me. Fuck, it felt so good.
I took my time, carefully licking her clean, a final, possessive act. The taste was sharp and intoxicating, and I lingered for a moment, enjoying the warmth and the stillness that followed her climax.
Above me, Dr. Carter’s rapid breathing began to settle, smoothing out into long, deep exhales. She lifted her hand from my hair, then lowered it again, running her fingers gently through the strands.
"You are a very good girl, Alex," she murmured, the praise low and sincere, the command now softer than the demand had been. It was like music to my ears.
When I was finally done, I moved up her body, gently pulling her discarded trousers and underwear back over her legs. Her body was heavy and relaxed beneath my touch, completely pliant. I gathered the silk top.
She watched me as I worked, a slow, appreciative smirk spreading across her face at my tenderness.
She made no move to put her bra back on, clearly intending to stay bare underneath the top.
I pulled the silk carefully over her chest and began methodically doing up the small buttons, taking extra care around the engorged, sensitive peaks of her nipples.
God, she looked fucking amazing. I couldn't believe that had just happened.
As the final button clicked into place, Dr. Carter reached up, hooking her hands around my neck, and pulled me in for a deep, hungry kiss.
She groaned into the contact, a sound of absolute contentment and lingering heat.
It was a clear, silent thank you, a reward that tasted infinitely better than any takeout.
The kiss lasted, deep and languid, until the sharp buzz of the hallway intercom broke the stillness.
Dr. Carter pulled back, her eyes gleaming with reluctant annoyance. "The sushi is here," she murmured, her voice husky.
She pressed her forehead against mine, taking a moment to regain her composure.
The soft, unbuttoned silk of her top shifted slightly, exposing a dark, hard nipple.
Catching my tracking gaze, she rolled her eyes playfully, gave me a light push back, and finished fastening her top as she stood.
Tussling her hair, she flashed me a quick wink before smoothly leaving the room to retrieve our food.
I licked my lips, staring up at the ceiling.
Fuck. She tasted so goddamn good, and the sounds she made...
I wished I had a recording. Just thinking about it made me throb.
I forced myself to sit up and took a large, desperate gulp of the white wine.
The crisp, cold vintage mixing with the lingering taste of her on my tongue was overwhelming.
I heard the front door close, followed by her moving into the kitchen before returning to the lounge. She placed a massive tray of food on the coffee table—she must have ordered practically everything on the menu.
When she sat back down, she seemed perfectly composed, though a faint flush still lingered on her cheeks. She took a sip of her wine and gently ran her fingers through my hair, her green eyes soft and relaxed. I did that.
She smiled as she set her glass down. Unable to help myself, I leaned over and stole a quick kiss as she reached for the TV remote. She chuckled into the contact and raised an eyebrow at me afterward—a silent challenge that said, You're being a bit soft, darling. And, fuck, I was.
She found Scream and loaded the film as we began eating.
"Are you sure you want to watch this while we eat?" I chuckled.
"I think I’ll be able to handle it," she said, popping a sushi roll into her mouth with defiant elegance.
Those sharp, insistent tingles rushed back beneath my skin. I actually liked her. Like, I fucking really liked her. Turning my head, I concentrated entirely on filling myself with sashimi, desperately trying to pretend I wasn’t having actual, terrifying feelings. Because, fuck, I didn't do that.