Chapter Four #2
Her fingers scale down my neck and to my shoulders, kneading my muscles until the pressure melts to desire. All the blood that was pounding in my head moments ago rushes south and fills my cock, leaving my head blissfully calm for the first time since I opened my eyes this morning.
“We can keep the exercises light today in case the headache comes back, but I don’t think it will.”
I open my eyes and turn around to look at her. “Is that so?”
“My grandpa’s technique is foolproof. You should feel better for the next couple of hours or days, but it won’t heal you. To treat it, you need to take care of the underlying cause.”
I read the question in her eyes, but I’m not about to open up about what’s caused the migraine.
It already haunts me when I’m alone; there is no need to relive it around company.
Her hand is still on my temple, her thumb moving in slow circles.
She hasn’t pulled away. She hasn’t moved at all, actually—the room has gone quiet around us, and her breathing has turned shallow in a way I don’t think she realizes.
“Ashley.” My voice comes out lower than I mean it to.
Her thumb stops. She doesn’t lift her hand.
“Yes?”
“You’re not breathing.”
A small, startled laugh—and then she does breathe, a quick uneven inhale that ends in a hitch when she meets my eyes. The pink that rises up her neck is the same shade I saw on her face six days ago in the workout room. The same gleam in her eyes I haven’t been able to scrub out of my head since.
She’s not pulling her hand away. She’s not stepping back. She’s standing there with her fingers still pressed to my temple and her pulse jumping in her throat, and what I read on her face is the same thing I’ve been carrying around for a week.
She wants me.
I reach out and grasp her hand before she can move away, tugging her, and it takes little effort to send her tumbling over the couch and onto my lap.
She yelps, her eyes wide with surprise, and it occurs to us at the same time that this is the first time I’m touching her—the first time my hands have been on her with no professional excuse between us.
I’ve kept my hands to myself from the moment she walked through my doors a week ago, letting her do all the touching.
“The headache is gone,” I say, taking her right hand and bringing it to my lips. “Your magic fingers worked better than any painkiller could. Maybe there’s a way I could repay you.”
“Matt, what are you doing?”
I don’t know. What I do know is that I’m not letting her go. Not today.
I wrap my left hand around her waist and roll her to her back.
“Your arm,” she cries out, grabbing my bicep and pulling it from underneath her. “Jesus, are you insane? Do you want to undo all the work we’ve done this past week?”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. You have to be careful, Matt, or you’ll wake up tomorrow with your arm sore.”
She’s right, and I know it. Every number in her notebook is proof she’s right. I’m not going to undo a week of her work because I lost my head for ten minutes.
Which is its own problem. Because if her therapy is working, then she stays. And if she stays, I’m in trouble in a way no surgery is going to fix.
She doesn’t know that part. She just knows I’m being reckless with the shoulder she’s been rebuilding for me, and the protectiveness in her voice—for me, when I’m the one twice her size and three times her weight—does something to my chest I don’t have the bandwidth to examine.
She wants me. And right now, with the headache gone and her body soft against mine and her hands still on my arm trying to protect me from myself, I don’t have the discipline left to refuse her. Not when I want her too so badly I ache with it.
I slide my palm under her top and over her stomach, watching those pretty eyes light up with more than just surprise. I feel her shiver against me.
“Matt,” she whimpers, covering her hand with mine. “What are you doing?”
“This,” I rasp, moving my hand up her soft skin and to her bra, brushing a finger over a beaded nipple.
I watch her face. Watch the way her eyes dilate, the way her breath catches, the way she doesn’t move my hand away—she covers it with her own, not to stop it, but to stay in contact with it. Her body answers before her mouth does.
“T-this is unprofessional.”
It’s not rejection. Her hand is still over mine. She hasn’t moved.
“You make all your patients feel this good?” The thought of her hands on any other man’s shoulders, her thumbs at any other man’s temple, sends something dark and territorial through me. Mine. The voice in my head is getting louder every day.
“I didn’t train for this,” she whimpers, arching into my touch when I pinch her nipple between my knuckles and tug gently. “Matt—”
I move my lips to the side and kiss the line of her jaw, trailing my lips upward. “Some things you learn on the job, little rabbit.”
“And you’re going to teach me?”
“Damn right I am.” Her breath hitches when I push up and brush her lips against mine. Soft, teasing. I move back when she leans up, chuckling at her frustrated whine. “And here’s your first lesson.”
I take her lips in a rough kiss, pouring out the need I’ve kept bottled up from the moment I saw her standing outside my door.
Hell, for years it seems. She gasps against my lips, and her hands come up, sliding over my jaw and locking behind my nape.
Whatever reservations she had until this moment seem to melt away as she finally gives in to the heat that’s been burning between us.
A moan kindles in my chest as I push in to deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue in her mouth, seeking hers, groaning at the taste of her.
More intoxicating than I could’ve ever dreamed up.
She’s perfect, so fucking gorgeous—moaning as our tongues tangle.
I lose myself in the taste of her, the kiss quickly turning wet and needy.
With a growl, I push closer and pin my throbbing cock between her thighs. I don’t remember wanting anything or anyone as much as I want her. Fucking hell, the way she responds to the kiss, arching into my touch, pulling me harder against her as she surrenders to me. It’s all so goddamned sexy.
Her hands scale my shoulders and drop to my waist, gripping tightly as I rock against her, her thighs parting wider for me.
Christ, it would take so little to simply tug her loose pants down, yank down her panties, shove down my sweats, and slam home.
I can almost imagine her tightness wrapped around me, the pleasure I could bring us both, but… I can’t.
Even with how long it’s been for me since I last touched a woman, I still know when someone has never been touched or kissed before. So precious. So innocent. The shy and awkward hand job she gave me clued me in on this, but the kiss confirmed it.
It doesn’t make any fucking sense. How someone as gorgeous as Ashley Cork could be a virgin.
And whatever sick part of me revels in the fact that no other man has touched her, that’s the part I’ll wrestle with later.
Right now, she’s mine to learn—every gasp, every shiver, every place she wants to be touched. Not to corrupt. To memorize.
And it seems, she doesn’t know either, as she mewls and writhes under me, rocking up to meet my thrusts in that eager, curious, innocent way of hers.
“Matt,” she whimpers when I pull away, and Christ, she’s a sight to behold with her drowsy eyes and lips swollen from the kiss.
Fuck, I want her. I want her so fucking much it takes everything in me to grasp control.
And when those green eyes lock on mine, silently pleading for release, that control wavers.
“So beautiful,” I rasp, sliding my hand down to her hips and slowly dragging her pants down her legs.
“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen. And I’ve been all around the world.
” I brush my lips over her jaw, nudging her back to kiss her throat as my hand grasps the waistband of her panties.
I nip at the sensitive skin behind her ear as I tug down her panties and strip them off.
My hand is back between her thighs, caressing and squeezing her as I lose myself in the soft scent of her. “You smell so good, baby.”
“I do?”
“Yes, and you feel so fucking good too,” I rasp into her skin as I drag my thumb through the center of her pussy, groaning when I find her wet, practically dripping with need.
My cock throbs painfully in my sweats, jutting with need to be inside her.
“Fuck,” I growl, dragging my thumb through her sex and rubbing against the sensitive bud which sends her hips rising off the couch with a cry.
“Oh God,” she pants, gripping my shoulders as I stroke her swollen clit, rubbing the pad of my thumb over it and increasing the pressure. Faster and rougher. “Matt… Oh God!”
I use my free hand to shove her top up before dipping my face to her chest. Her body jolts hard when my mouth finds her nipple, sucking hard at the rosy peak as I stroke the slick folds between her thighs.
She writhes and sobs, dragging her hands over my shoulders as she seeks to anchor herself to me. I close my eyes and lose myself in the taste of her, rolling my tongue around a nipple until she’s panting, her body trembling.
She shatters, shaking as she comes. Her thighs try to close around my hand with no success.
I nudge my thigh between hers, keeping them open as I stroke her through the shudders, dragging out the orgasm until she’s sobbing.
And it’s my name on her lips. Her soft body pushes up against mine until whatever control I had snaps.
“Again,” I growl, moving down the couch to settle between her legs as I replace my thumb with my tongue.
Her back arches off the couch with a sob, fingers digging into the cushion as I run my tongue through her folds, chasing the sweet taste of her arousal.
And it’s intoxicating. My head swims as her flavor explodes on my tongue, and everything in me begs for more.
“W-what…oh God, what are you doing?” she cries when I clutch her ass in my hands and pull her closer to me, licking and kissing at her parted flesh. Hungry for her. She smells and tastes so fucking good, like peaches, sweet and tangy, and it goes straight to my cock.
I’m a man out of control, and I find that I don’t care. Her pleasure—I seek it, chase it. I crave it. The noises she makes only send me pushing deeper.
Mine.
“Matt,” she sobs, canting her hips when I lap at her clit. She grips my hair and tugs hard, lifting her pulsing flesh to my mouth and rolling her hips as she chases her release. She’s not going to last long. I can tell in the way her breath catches. The way her thighs tremble around my shoulders.
Mine.
The voice in my head is stronger this time, calling for me to claim a woman fate has no business letting me have.
I don’t deserve her or her pleasure, but I seek it anyway.
I drag my tongue over her quivering flesh and pray that she gives in to me.
Only me. Her pleasure is mine. Only I am allowed to touch her this way.
I close my lips hard around her clit, possessive thoughts swirling in my mind as I suck at the swollen flesh, setting her off.
She comes with a scream, tugging hard at my hair as she bucks on the couch.
I keep my hungry mouth on her, drawing at her sensitive bud even as I watch her from between her legs, head tossed back and tits flushed as beautiful spasms roll through her.
Mine.
Louder and louder the voice gets. Firm too.
I watch her come apart until she’s heaving and shaking.
Only then do I pull back, my thoughts dark and possessive as they take her in.
She’s stunning, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I keep my eyes trained on her as I shove down my sweats, freeing my hard cock. I’m not going to last long, I can tell.
Those pretty eyes open and slowly dip to the erection in my grip before moving back to my eyes.
“Can I?” she asks shyly, and all I can do is nod.
I let out a groan when she takes me in her hand, blushing fiercely as she strokes my cock, those eyes locked on mine as they were the first day. “It’s so big.”
Goddamn it.
“Fuck,” I curse as I thrust into her grip, laying my hand over hers like I did the first day.
I close my eyes when I feel an orgasm rising fast, my breathing turning labored.
It takes three more strokes before I climax, unloading stripes of cum on her hand and thighs.
I grunt as my muscles strain and release with pleasure for the next several seconds as I paint her with my release.
Mine.
Those pretty green eyes drop to the mess between us, and slowly, I watch as reality slips back into place. When they lift back to mine, it’s horror I read in her eyes. She releases me and scrambles back on the couch, her lips opening and closing but only a whimper comes out.
“Ashley.”
She bats my hand away when I reach for her. She’s breathing hard, working herself into a panic attack even as she works to right her clothes. “No one can know,” she whispers, fixing her bra then tugging her top over it. “You can’t tell anyone we did that. Promise me. Please.”
“Ashley.”
She winces at the stickiness between her thighs but simply tugs her scrub pants on and stands up.
“I’ll lose my job if people find out I slept with a patient.
” She grips her hair then releases it, turning to me.
Her eyes plead. “Last time, I could pretend it didn’t mean anything.
I told myself it was a mistake. I crossed a line once, but swore it would never happen again.
But this—this wasn’t a mistake. This was me wanting to.
And the board doesn’t care about the difference, Matt.
They’d pull my license either way, but I’d know the difference. I’d know. Promise me, Matt.”
“No one will ever know.” My voice is rougher than I mean it to be. “Ashley—look at me. No one will know. Not from me. Not ever.”
And then my little rabbit runs out, leaving me breathing heavy and completely undone.