Page 44 of Dr. Fellow

“Right.” His jaw clenches as his expression becomes more difficult to read. “Well regardless, I didn’t want to do anything that would push you away. There, uh, aren’t many people I like being around. And your annoying ass is one of the few.”

“My ass is incredible,” I counter with wink, trying to lighten the mood. “You should know that. You smacked it hard enough tonight.”

His lips twitch before returning to a firm line as his eyes rake across my body. “Did you like it when I did that?”

I feel myself shifting beneath his disarming gaze. “Yeah. The whole thing was hot.”

It felt like I could turn my brain off and listen to his commands, which isn’t something I tend to do in any other aspect of my life. I have a strong personality, often naturally overtaking social and professional situations to become the loudest person in the room. Nobody has ever been able to tame that part of me, nor have they really tried. And that wasn’t something I thought I might want until I met Walker.

“Good to know,” he says, dragging his eyes back to mine. “I did too.”

I bite the inside of my cheek as if it will stop the blush I can feel painting my face. “So why did you stop?”

It felt like both of us were enjoying ourselves, but Walker used his safeword before we could even get to the good stuff. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t confused and left feeling like I did something wrong.

His eyes soften. “Because I couldn’t snap out of the frustration I was feeling, and it wouldn’t have been good for either one of us to keep going. I knew that we needed to have a genuine talk about this.”

His tattooed arm wraps around me, pulling me in close to his chest. For some reason I look down into my wine glass, unable to hold his searing gaze as he continues, “That’s why safewords exist, Morgan. To give us both power in the experience. It frustrated me that you weren’t taking it seriously, and honestly, it scared me a little. While I think I can read you pretty damn well, I don’t feel entirely confident proceeding if we’re not on the same page, especially because I’ve never done this before.”

“Really? You haven’t?” I ask, staring at the vein bulging in his forearm as it rests in my lap.

“Not formally, at least,” he admits. “Not like what we just did.”

I feel my nose wrinkle. It surprises me that Walker hasn’t explored this type of dynamic before. I mean, neither have I, but he was just . . . so good at it. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and not something that we were forcing at all.

“So why do you want to try it now? Does something about me just scream submissive? It’s because I’m short, right?”

He lets out an exasperated laugh and shakes his head.

“It’s not because you’re short. Though logistically we might have to modify some things,” he says, his voice warm with amusement. “It’s more about the energy you give off. You’re strong, assertive, and you don’t back down. That’s incredibly attractive, and in a way, it actually does give off submissive to me—not because it’s comfortable for you, but because it’s uncomfortable and you have to make the active choice to submit.”

He sets his glass down on the nightstand. “But to answer your question about why I wanted to try this with you, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you made me read that kinky book, and it made me think about what I like. Maybe it’s something I’ve always wanted to try but never had the right person to explore with. The only way that I can describe it is that the dynamic between us just felt right.”

“It felt right to me too.” I squirm out of his arms to also place my glass down. “But I also kind of want to hookup normally too, if that’s okay. I kept hoping you would kiss me tonight, but that never happened.”

In answer, he leans in and dusts his lips against mine. It’s wildly different from our first kiss—softer and more attentive, as if he’s trying to show me that he can give me both. The strokes of his tongue against my lips are slow and silky, like he’s asking permission before pushing forward. I part my mouth in invitation, moaning as he dives deeper.

Before I can flick my tongue to meet his, he pulls back. His hooded eyes lock on my lips like he’s trying to hold himself back. “Had to right that wrong before we kept talking.”

My heart throbs hard in my chest, desperate for more.

“Thank you, Sir.” I emphasize the term, hoping that it will entice him to keep going.

He laughs. “Let’s keep that to when we’re in the mood for something more formal,” he says, leaning back against the pillow and pulling me with him.

I pout my lower lip, reaching out to trace the sculpted muscles of his forearm. “What? You don’t like it, Sir?”

I know I’m taunting him, but I don’t know if he would give in otherwise. He seems to always tense when I use that word though, like it triggers a Pavlovian response within him, so it’s worth a shot.

Walker swallows harshly as his attention drops to my touch. “Are you trying to brat right now because you want me to keep kissing you?”

Damn. Sometimes I really think he can read my mind.

“Is it working?” I ask, focusing on tracing the lines of his design with my fingers. Even though it’s generic looking, it really is beautiful—not too dark or overpowering on his olive skin. I know that I don’t know anything about tattoos, but this one looks like it was done by a true artist.

“You might be more convincing if you moved that hand to my cock.”

My eyes drop to the duvet covering the lower half of his body as I trail my fingers down his forearm. I pull back the feathery fabric, exposing the fitted boxer briefs that bunch on his upper thighs. Thin dark hair peppers his skin, and I run my fingers through it before I settle my hand between his legs.

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