Page 13 of Naughty Desires

Gripping his shaft as tight as I dare, I wrap my mouth around his cock so my lips meet my fist. Tipping my head back to meet his gaze, I move my mouth and hand in a rhythmic motion.

“Where did you learn that?” His voice sharpens the tiniest bit, and I release him to answer.

“Books.”

“Books?” His frown deepens. “What books?”

“All sorts of books. I wanted to be ready when this day came. I’ve been hot for you forever, Dr. Taylor.” I go down on him hard and fast, savouring the thickness of his cock as it slides in and out of my mouth. My blood rushes downward, making me throb and ache beneath the flimsy thong. Although I’m tempted to put my hand between my legs, stroke myself until I’m slick and ready to come, I slide my hands around his hips to cup his bare ass beneath the lab coat. Possessive. Needy. Mine.

Chris groans and his fingers tighten around my head. His need for control asserts itself, and he holds me still, rocking his hips rhythmically to fuck my mouth with slow, easy strokes.

I love it. I love that after all this time, he still wants what I can give. He wants me.

His body jerks from the force of his climax, his hold on my hair a painful pleasure as he spills down my throat. I swallow and suck, lick him clean, the salty taste of him so erotic I ache for release.

“Look at me.” His voice is thick, heavy with desire.

I look up. Pleasure is etched across his face, smoothing away the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and the furrows in his brow.

“Your face is flushed, Nurse Taylor.”

I put a hand to my cheek, feel the heat that suffuses my body. “Exertion, sir?”

“I think you might be ill.” He tilts my head back with a thick finger under my chin. “Your pupils are dilated.”

“It’s the light.”

“Hmmm.” He presses a hand to my forehead. “I think you might have a fever.”

A smile spreads across my face, and I grab the scrubs. “Maybe I’m too hot to handle.”

“Not for me.” He takes the scrubs and pulls them on, tying them loosely around his waist. With firm hands on my shoulders, he urges me to my feet. “I think I’d better examine you properly. We can’t have you attending to patients if you’re sick.”

He’s into it now. I can see the change in the set of his shoulders, the tense line of his jaw, the spread of his legs, and the firm, unyielding stare.

Come back to me. Even if only for a night.

“That’s probably a good idea,” I say, fiddling with the stethoscope. “Would you like to start by listening to my heart?”

He scowls. “Who is the doctor here?”

“You are.”

“That’s right.” Without warning, he scoops me up in his strong arms. “And doctors examine their patients in an examination room. Lucky for you, there is one free upstairs.”

“I forgot to ask,” I say as he carries me through the room. “What kind of doctor are you?”

His sensuous mouth curls into aslow, predatorysmile. “I’ll let you guess.”

---