Page 81 of Dr. Fellow

I don’t fight when my fingers fist the fabric of his navy scrub top and tug him closer. I don’t fight when his lips curl into a self-satisfied smile as our mouths collide. I don’t fight when my brain magically forgets all of my core beliefs about long-term relationships, and how I promised I wouldn’t touch him until he agreed to my terms—I simply give in.

Our first—sober—kiss as husband and wife is explosive. It’s passionate. It’s the closest thing I’ve felt to wildfire. But most importantly, it’s a physical reminder of why I haven’t let go. Of why I’ve been avoiding this conversation. Of the one thing I’ve been afraid of but know now beyond a shadow of a doubt.

That Walker Chastain is my twin flame—he’s the other half of my soul. The one who has simultaneously ignited and tamed my furious blaze. He’s what I’ve been running from, but he’s also what I need more than air. We’ve always belonged to each other, and no matter how much I try to fight it, we always will.

So I guess Cass was right. Walker might look at me like I’m the sun, but it’s only because he knows I’m the one person who won’t blind him. And I think I finally understand why I don’t want to—because I think I might love him.

So that’s how I kiss him. I kiss him with everything I have, winding my fingers through his hair to pull him closer. Our tongues flick against each other, and I savor his taste as his large hands move beneath my thighs, squeezing my flesh aggressively as he lifts me off the desk.

I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us across the room while we feverishly claim each other. I whimper into his throat as my back slams against the wooden door of the call room, his hips pressing into me as he reaches down to lock us in.

I can feel the slick heat of my arousal surge through me as his hands possessively knead my ass, a groan of matching desire coming from his lips. He turns and crosses the small room to lower us to the twin bed, never once pulling back from our kiss.

My feet dig into his hips, and I arch my back to feel him as close as possible. I slide my fingers from his hair, over his harsh jawline, and down his sides to reach for the hem of his top, yanking it free from his waistband.

His hard cock teases my sex briefly, taunting me with nostalgic pleasure as he adjusts his body and pulls one arm free from beneath me. He sinks heavily against me, pressing his chest against mine so snugly that I can’t break even an inch of contact between our bodies.

“Remind me,” I rasp against his lips, raking my fingertips up his spine toward his broad shoulders.

Before I can explain what I mean, Walker’s chin dips in understanding, and he begins planting feverish kisses along my jaw. A sliver of pain pricks my skin, forcing a surprised yelp from my swollen lips, followed by a satisfied sigh as his steady tongue soothes the sting away. I throw my head back, nearly breathless as I give him the access that he needs to mark me, to claim me, to remind me, just like I asked.

A primal desire ignites deep within my soul, firing through my body until I feel the insatiable need to mark him too. My nails drag harshly across his back, clawing into his sweaty skin as my hips attempt to grind into him, desperate for more.

In answer, Walker’s fingers drag up my arm and settle on my exposed neck, digging gently into the curve of my jaw as his mouth moves to my earlobe.

“Remind you of what?” he growls into my ear, his hot breath caressing the flames of my desire as a shudder pulses through me at his delicious possession. “Remind you that you want to be collared?”

His strong fingers press into the exact spot where my pulse hammers in my throat, eliciting a greedy whimper from my lips.

“Remind you that you belong to me?”

His teeth sink into my earlobe, and my core clenches hard with the controlled pain, nails digging into his skin in response.

“There are so many things I’m dying to remind you of, little devil. So many ways I’m desperate to own you, but not until you admit that you want this. That you’re mine.”

He licks the length of my jaw, placing a rough kiss on my forehead before he sits back on his heels and releases me from his hold. His hooded eyes search my face, waiting for a response.

My chest heaves under the weight of his gaze.

“I want this,” I whisper, the lack of his physical touch suddenly feeling painful. “I’m yours.”

His jaw clenches, and I can tell he’s warring with himself on whether he should believe me.

I don’t blame him given my desperate pleas for freedom and the conversation we had only moments ago, but I’ll give him what I can—the truth.

“I want this, Walker,” I repeat, my tone earnest. “I need this. And I need you.”

I hope he knows how much the words mean to me. The last thing I ever wanted in life was to need a man—to need anyone. But somehow, I’ve come to need Walker. And finally admitting that is freeing.

He nods, reaching down to brush his thumb over my lower lip. “I need you too,” he says, dark eyes flickering with lust.

His thumb holds my lip down as his first two fingers sink into my mouth, pressing hard against my tongue. A wave of desire washes through me as I close my mouth around him, letting him take control. His fingertips practically slide to the back of my throat, and I feel my eyes go wide, trying hard not to gag when he holds them in place.

He leans in, pressing his forehead to mine as he stares at me like he’s peering directly into my soul. “I need you in more ways than you could ever know. In more ways than you will ever know. But right now, I need to fuck you like you’re the last thing that I need.”

A shudder of physical approval rips through me, and I reach up to squeeze his tattooed forearm once, hoping he remembers our nonverbal signal for yes.

His pupils flare in understanding and he sits back again, dipping his fingers into the waistband of my scrubs. I plant my heels on the bed, arching my hips into the air so he can pull the fabric over my ass, his touch much more gentle than I’m expecting.

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