Page 40 of Burned By the Broken Doctor

Suddenly, she pulls the car over onto the side of the road, the tires crunching on the gravel shoulder. My heart skips a beat, unsure of what’s coming next. She turns in her seat, her face inches from mine.

“You deserve this for being supportive,” she adds, her voice barely a whisper. Before I can react, she leans in, her lips meeting mine in a soft, unexpected kiss.

It isn’t like the fiery explosion in the alleyway. The kiss sends a wave of heat crashing through me. Her lips are soft, warm, and taste faintly of the cherry lip balm she always wears.

She grabs my shirt and pulls me closer, sliding her tongue into my mouth. The kisses deepen, gaining urgency with time, and she starts to pull off my clothes.

I lift my arms as she pulls my shirt from the pants. Her hands immediately dive under my shirt to run over my ribs and abs, circling my navel and then traveling down my hips, tickling the trail of hair that leads lower. Then she grips the hard shape of me bulging beneath my pants.

“Fuck, Emma.” I groan into our kiss.

“Yes, Liam. Tell me,” she whispers against my lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” I groan.

She breaks the kiss and stares deep into my eyes, smiling. “Then you can have me, Liam.”

Her mouth descends on mine again, and she bites my lower lip. The mix of pain and pleasure spurs me on. I feel my cock start to throb as my hand travels under her dress, gripping her panties.

“Rip them,” she whispers into my ear. “I don’t want you holding back, Liam.”

I obey her, my hands shaking as I tear the panties off her. The sound of the fabric ripping across her skin heightens the tension. Emma unbuckles her seat belt and climbs over. She shoves me against the seat and straddles my lap. She doesn’t take her eyes off mine as she hurriedly unbuttons my shirt, and then her head disappears against my shirt as she nibbles my nipples, biting them softly, then she blows a hot breeze on them before lapping them with her tongue.

“Fucking hell, Emma.” I throw my head back and growl toward the car roof.

“Yes, Liam. I want you to fuck me.”

There’s an uncontrollable lust storming between us now. My mind shuts down every sense except for the one that feels her pleasure and is desperate to give it back. I grab her head and slam my lips back on hers, feeling her breasts press against my bare chest and her naked lap gliding across mine. With frantic hands, she unbuckles my belt, whipping it free of the loops and tossing it somewhere. We both pull at my pants, managing to drag them down my legs.

“The condom,” I gasp. “I always have one in my wallet, just in case.”

“Good boy,” she growls.

She rummages through my fallen pant pockets and finally comes out with the protection. Slowly, she slips it over me.

She has a crazy smile of satisfaction on her lips as she settles over the tip of my cock. I watch her eyes widen and then close tightly as she impales herself on me.

“Oh my God, Liam.” She growls, “You feel so fucking perfect.”

I know exactly what she’s talking about because the sensation of being inside her is mind-blowing. She lifts her hips gently and then begins to ride me.

The feeling of her wet heat sheathing me again and again makes me feel like I’m about to run mad any minute now. I grab her breasts through her sundress, squeezing as hard as I can. That seems to even ignite her further. She moves quicker, bouncing as she engorges herself on my cock.

Without thinking about it, I pull down an arm of her dress and quickly pull down a bra cup, burying my face in her breasts and taking the nipple into my mouth. I suck hard and nibble. She screams.

“I’m gonna come, Liam. I’m coming.”

I place my free hand on the other breast, sucking deeper, biting harder. She explodes into orgasm right over me, her inside clenching me hard, squeezing my own orgasm out of me. I close my eyes as the waves ride over me, gritting my teeth.

At the end, we collapse in each other’s arms, gasping for breath in the heated steam of the car interior.

12

EMMA

I’m sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by design plans and color swatches, a pencil tucked behind my ear.

My colored pencils scratch rhythmically across the paper, their cheerful hues a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within me. Ethan, sprawled on the floor in the far corner of the living room, is engrossed in his latest cartoon obsession. His occasional giggles are the only sound that breaks the silence, a silence that echoes my own conflicted state.

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