Page 89 of Dr. Fellow

“Did I tell you to stop?” he growls.

I try to mutter the words “No, Sir” around the gag, but that only causes more drool to pour from my lower lip. My legs right themselves, sliding beneath me to return my body to a crawling position.

“Let’s do another lap around the room. This time, you only stop when I tell you to.”

My chin dips in acknowledgment before I turn my head and focus on the floor in front of me. I’m half expecting him to swat me with the crop, but the delicious sting never comes, so I lurch forward at a quicker pace now that I’ve adjusted to the tension of the rope.

When I’m halfway around the room, I stop to shift the gag with my tongue so the spit pooling in the back of my throat can escape through the corner of my mouth. As if he was waiting for me to fail, Walker immediately pulls on his makeshift leash to reorient my head and the tension of the hook. I grunt in frustration as I start to move again, earning me a harsh swat to my exposed ass.

“Got something to say?” he taunts, voice grating like sandpaper through the air.

I don’t reply, remaining focused on my end goal as I begin to move again. Walker kisses my skin with the occasional light swat of the crop, like he only just remembered that he was carrying the toy. A torrent of arousal slides down my thighs despite the overwhelming exhaustion overtaking my body. My jaw aches, my legs ache, my pussy aches, and yet somehow I still need more.

Once the requested full circle of the room is complete, I hesitate because he’s not telling me to stop like he said he would. I slow my crawl, attempting to crane my neck and glance back at him.

“I think you have one more lap in you,” he comments, amusement in his tone. “Keep going for me. The last one is always the best one.”

At this point, I’m starting to wonder if my husband has unlocked a new kink because this is a different level of humiliation, even for him.

I attempt to pick up my pace, determined to get through this as quickly as possible, but the rope pulls tighter each time I try, forcing me to crawl . . . well . . . at a crawl.

When I make it to the first corner, the immediate need to come ripples through me, jerking me to a stop. I clench my thighs together to avoid my impending orgasm as I try to figure out where the urge is coming from. It feels like my body is vibrating from the inside out, a steady hiss of pleasure rolling through my entire lower half.

A hard smack lands on my ass, reorienting me to the situation. “Keep going.”

I don’t move, whipping my head in Walker’s direction as another sting kisses the skin of my other cheek.

“I must have forgotten to tell you that the hook vibrates.”

He looks like he’s enjoying himself at my expense, and if I wasn’t gagged, I would break protocol to stick my tongue out at him.

“Keep going,” he repeats, tone dropping lower. “Oh, and little devil? There will be consequences if you come without permission.”

I grit my teeth around the rubber dildo so hard I’m sure they’ll leave puncture marks, summoning the strength to move my body forward. Each second that passes sends me higher into ecstasy, and I focus everything I have on staving off my release.

As soon as I round the final corner and think I’m in the clear, the vibrations intensify—because of course they do—creating an intense pressure in my pussy. I can’t help the moan of pleasure that escapes my lips, giving away the fact that despite the humiliation, I’m enjoying the hell out of this.

“Atta girl,” Walker coos when I finally reach his desk. “You did so well. You can stop now.”

He pulls me to my feet, peering down at me with nothing but satisfaction in his eyes. The pad of his thumb brushes the drool from my chin, gently rubbing it down my neck like he’s painting me. I lean into him, forgetting my impending orgasm as he pulls me into his arms.

“You think you can take a little more?” he murmurs against my hair, pressing his erection into my belly. “Because all I can think about is fucking you on this desk. Making you come on my cock while your ass clenches around that metal hook.”

I nod into his chest because I might be full in other ways, but my pussy has been aching for him all night.

Walker helps me onto the desk, positioning me on my hands and knees again. His palm presses into my upper back, guiding me into a modified child’s pose. The clamps rub against the wooden desktop, intensifying the sensation in my nipples as I settle into place.

“Look at my wife,” he drawls to himself, trailing his fingers down my spine and over the sensitive areas he marked with the crop. “Dripping wet for my cock after taking my torment so well. How the hell did I get so lucky?”

My heart claws at my chest, more from emotion than arousal as he squeezes the crease of my ass and slips his fingers into me. I’ve asked myself that exact question multiple times this week because the truth is that I feel the same way—only we don’t need luck because what Walker and I have could beat all of the odds.

Chapter 35

Walker

Morning light streams through a crack in my blackout curtains, illuminating Morgan’s face as she shifts in my arms and mutters something unintelligible. I have no idea if she knows this, but she talks in her sleep. I’ve been listening to her mumble complete nonsense for the past few minutes, and it makes me wonder what she’s dreaming about because the words “limoncello” and “pool boy” just came out of her mouth in close succession.

My arm went numb beneath her head a while ago, but I can’t bring myself to move it—she just looks so angelic and peaceful. And after everything I put her through last night, she deserves all of the rest that she needs.

---