Page 39 of Dr. Fellow

A loud noise that sounds like a single “ha” comes out of my mouth.

The balls on this man . . .

“And what kind of benefits do I get from following that rule?” I ask, rolling my hips to tease him the way he’s teasing me.

Walker inhales sharply, eyes narrowing in challenge. “My cock, for one.”

“Hmmm,” I muse, repeating the movement. “You think that’s enough to make me listen?”

His fingers pause and dig into the crease of my hips. A bullet of arousal shoots through me, like he just pressed a pleasure-filled button on my body that I didn’t know existed until he discovered it.

“Based on how your needy pussy is grinding against me, I’d say you already know the answer to that question.”

I want to tell him that he’s right. That even though his erection is contained by his jeans, I can feel that it’s not even remotely average. But I just can’t help myself from continuing to tease him.

“Even if I admit that you have an impressive dick, which I’m not doing by the way, I still have concerns. I assume that you’ve only slept with, what, one woman in your life? There’s no way you even know how to use that thing.”

Walker’s near-black eyes don’t flicker with emotion—he just stares at me, silently blinking for far too long. The only hint that he even heard me is the ripple of his jaw, like he’s trying hard to hold himself back.

“You think I don’t know how to use my fat cock?” he growls, voice deep and gritty. “You think I don’t know exactly how to hit that spot deep inside your pussy that no man has ever quite reached? That I won’t give you everything you need, and more?”

The intensity in his gaze makes my pulse thunder in my ears, reminding me of his natural dominance that I’ve been callously testing the limits of.

I swallow harshly, trying to push down the inexplicable unease coursing through my veins. Not because I’m scared, but because I believe every word that just came out of his mouth.

He leans in again, panting gruff, shallow breaths in my ear as his grip tightens on my hips. “My cock is going to wreck you, little devil. It’s going to tear you apart, inch by fucking inch. And that pain? It’s going to feel so goddamn good that you’ll get on your knees and beg for more.”

His threat sends a sharp pang of lust directly to my low belly, and I have to take several steadying breaths to regain my composure. I pull back and search his hooded eyes, finding no indication that he’s joking.

“Are you going to make me?” I taunt, biting back a smirk because I just can’t help myself.

“No,” he snarls, not even the slightest bit amused. “That’s not how this is going to work. You’re going to give in because you want to, without any sort of fight or pushback. The dynamic in our friendship is very different from what’s about to happen, and I need to know that you’re okay with it.”

He’s right—there’s nothing vanilla about what’s been simmering between us. This isn’t two of the unlikeliest of friends getting naked and fucking, it’s way more. I knew at the engagement party that if Walker and I ever got to this point, it would be different from every other hookup I’ve had. That it would be a complete test of my limits and my boundaries. Which is why I don’t hesitate for a second before I respond to him.

“Yes, Sir.”

His eyes flare with either pride or lust, as he lifts me off his lap in a swift motion and plants me on my feet in front of him.

“Get your ass to your room,” he grunts, gaze snagging on my half-parted lips. “And while we’re in there, make sure you remember rule two.”

I don’t want to listen, but my body has other ideas because my feet begin moving on their own accord, padding across the worn hardwood floors. Halfway across the kitchen, I finally remember my backbone and pause, glancing back at him.

“What was rule two again?” I ask sweetly, knowing what I’m about to say will drive the final nail in my coffin. “The one that says you like a finger in your butt?”

Before I even have a chance to let loose a giggle, Walker stands and crosses the room in two long strides, crowding me against the kitchen island. Our size difference was less overwhelming when we were on the couch, but now that he’s towering over me, that slight unease creeps back into my brain. He could break me so easily if he wanted to, and despite what I might admit to everyone else, I would happily let him.

His hand gently tilts my chin up to look at him, his touch surprisingly tender despite the brutal pressure of his hips forcing my back into the butcher-block countertop. It’s like he’s telling me that he’s about to be rough with me, yet there’s nothing but security and trust between us.

“I wonder,” he muses, his thumb lightly brushing across my upturned lower lip, “if you’ll have this much fun when I fuck the fight out of this bratty little mouth. You think you’ll be smiling then? When I own those filthy lips and watch them wrap around my thick cock?”

The intensity in his tone sends another thrill through me, and I lean into his touch despite the depravity of his words. I had no idea he had this in him, but I guess the old saying is true—the quietest ones are always the kinkiest.

“Probably,” I challenge, though the word comes out much more like a question than I intend.

Walker’s smile is slow and deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey, and the way his gaze darkens makes a warm heat settle between my thighs. His hand shifts from my chin to the back of my neck, fingers curling into my hair possessively.

“Good.” He leans in, and his lips barely brush against mine, the contact so light it’s torturous. “Because that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

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