Page 43 of Doctor One Night

The tension is building, a tight coil winding tighter and tighter in the pit of my stomach. I’m close, so close, and from the look on Hunter’s face, so is he. He locks his eyes on mine, and the intensity threatens to swallow me whole.

“Hunter,” I moan, my voice barely above a whisper, but he hears me.

“Let go, Frankie,” he rasps, his voice laced with a need that mirrors my own.

And I do. I let go of everything—my fears, my doubts, my reservations—and surrender to the waves of pleasure that crash over me. “Fuck me, Hunter,” I cry out, my body convulsing around his as my orgasm tears through me, leaving me breathless and shaking.

A moment later, Hunter follows me over the edge, his body going rigid before he collapses on top of me, both of us spent and gasping for air. His heart is pounding in sync with mine, a testament to the power of what just happened between us, connecting us.

We stay like that for several minutes, neither of us wanting to break the spell. But as our breathing begins to slow and the reality of our situation starts to sink in, I know that things between us have irrevocably changed. There’s no going back to the way things were—not after this.

When we finally break apart, gasping for air, he rests his forehead against mine, and for a moment, we just breathe each other in. The world outside the lab ceases to exist; it’s just us, caught in this moment.

“Frankie,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, with need.

“Come with me,” I whisper back, the words spilling out before I can second-guess them. “Come back to my house.”

He doesn’t hesitate. I pull my dress down and smooth it over my thighs. We gather our things in a blur. Neither of us speaks as we head out of the lab, the cool night air hitting us as we step outside.

The car waiting by the curb seems to materialize out of nowhere, and before I know it, we’re inside, the silence between us charged with all the things we’re not saying and the endorphins still in overdrive.

I reach for his hand, needing the contact, and to be grounded in this whirlwind. He squeezes back, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a way that is both comforting and jarring. I’m not thinking about what this means, or even how we will deal with tomorrow. All I can think about is getting him in my bed for round two.

SIXTEEN

Hunter

Frankie's House

11:44 pm

I push open the door to Frankie's house, the cool air a welcome sensation to cool the fire that is raging inside me. We're a tangle of limbs before the door even closes behind us, our urgency cutting through the quiet of her home.

Her lips are on mine, fierce and demanding, as I back her into the den. We're all hands and mouths, desperate for the taste of each other's skin. I tug at her dress, unzipping the long zipper that trails down her back. The fabric pools at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a lace thong and heels. The sight of her nearly undoes me. She’s a vision of curves and softness, her green eyes dark with desire.

I lift her onto the edge of a nearby table, spreading her legs wide to accommodate me. My fingers find her center, already slick with need, and I stroke her, watching her arch and gasp beneath my touch. “Hunter,” she moans, the sound of my name on her lips spurring me on.

I free myself from my pants, the ache in my cock demanding release. With one swift motion, I'm inside her, filling her completely. She cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders as I start to move. Each thrust proclaims and acknowledges that no one can never fully satiate the hunger I now have but her.

Her walls clench around me, the rhythm of our bodies syncopated and frenzied. “You feel so damn good,” I growl, capturing her mouth in a deep, searing kiss. She responds by wrapping her legs tighter around my waist, pulling me deeper, harder, until the line between where I end and she begins blurs into oblivion.

We're both teetering on the edge, our breaths ragged and mingling. I know her orgasm is building, the way her body tenses and quivers beneath mine. “Come for me, Frankie,” I whisper, and she does, her climax crashing over her in waves that I experience with her, like shocks of electricity throughout my entire body.

Her release triggers my own, and I follow her over the edge, my vision white-hot with pleasure as I empty myself into her. For a moment, we're frozen in time, our bodies locked together in the aftermath of our passion.

Breathless, I scoop her into my arms, carrying her to the bedroom. We collapse onto the bed, a mess of tangled limbs and heated skin. I trail kisses along her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, reveling in the way she squirms and moans beneath me.

“Again,” she demands, her eyes shining with a mix of mischief and raw need. “I want to have you inside me again.”

Who am I to deny such a request?

I roll her onto her stomach, pulling her hips back toward me. She looks over her shoulder, her gaze smoldering as I position myself at her entrance once more. This time, our lovemaking is slow and deliberate, each thrust a promise, each exhale a vow.

“God, Frankie,” I murmur, my hands exploring every inch of her. “You're fucking incredible.”

She pushes back against me, meeting my thrusts with equal fervor. “You fuck me so good, Hunter,” she pants. “Don't ever stop.”

We lie tangled together in the sheets, our breathing still heavy, the remnants of our intensity lingering in the air.

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