Page 20 of Deeply Examined

That alone makes me chuckle. With a smirk, I slowly trail my fingers over her bare shoulder. I savor the softness of her skin, relish the way she trembles under my touch. I lift a brow. “Would you have preferred the floor?”

She exhales shakily, like she’s trying to find the right words, but I already see the way her thighs press together. The way she bends toward me, just a little, her body betraying her thoughts. Whatever protest she might form has already slipped away.

Slowly, I lean closer. Her eyes dilate with what looks like a mixture of apprehension and desire. I let my lips hover next to her ear, my breath heating her already flushed skin and I hear the tiniest intake of breath.

She’s waiting.

Wanting.

“Pretty girl,” I say in my gentlest voice. “Move to the center of the bed so I can tie you up.”

Jessica

My breathing picks up when he says that. It’s not just the words, but how he says them, slow and seductive.

I do as he asks, scooting on my behind to where he wants me. The mattress gives slightly under me. It’s perfect. Not too soft and not too hard. I lay on top of the comforter.

My heart stutters as Dr. West crawls in after me. He looks dangerous like this, on his hands and knees. The muscles of his forearms bunch and relax as he prowls closer.

Warm hands tug my shirt off over my head and release my bra. When he pulls down my pants and sees the lacy, black, crotchless underwear I picked out with Monica, he runs his hand over it with approval.

“This is nice.” His fingers trace the swirling pattern of the fabric.

“I got it for you,” I admit, my breathing already speeding up from his touch.

He rewards me with one of his closed-lip half-smiles. “Did you now?”

I nod vigorously.

A thrill runs through me when he says, “Then I think we should leave it on.”

Once all my clothing, except for the panties, have been removed, he ties each wrist and ankle to a different post on the bed.

I can’t move at all. My limbs are pulled taut, and my joints strain. It occurs to me that in this position Dr. West could hurt me if he wanted to. I’m helpless to stop him. I should be afraid right now—most people would be—but somehow, I’m not. Maybe because he’s a doctor or maybe because he’s never hurt me so far, I trust him to keep me safe.

Dr. West pulls the curtains closed all around us and sits back on his heels. He lets his eyes roam over my mostly naked body. “You’re beautiful like this. Spread out. Ready to be used.”

I shiver with anticipation, already aching for him.

With one hand he pulls off his shirt, revealing the most perfect torso and abs I’ve ever seen. Each muscle is sharply defined as if he were sculpted rather than born. He must spend a lot of time in the gym to look like that. Much to my disappointment, he doesn’t take off his pants.

Instead, he positions himself down low on the bed, between my spread legs. “I’ve been wanting to taste you for a long, long time,” he says, which is strange since I just met him, but I don’t have long to ponder that mystery because his tongue is on me, a slow lick that makes my toes curl.

I moan when he suctions onto me. He draws my clit into his mouth, then releases it, then repeats the motion several more times. My chest heaves at the intensity of it. It’s almost too much, but I can’t pull away. Not tied up like I am. Dr. West pulls back and blows breath-warmed air over my pussy, making it clench. He nuzzles it almost tenderly and says, “You’re delicious, Ms. Jones.”

He sets to fucking me with his tongue, thrusting it into my entrance while his hand strokes my swollen clit. It’s wet and warm and feels so good that within minutes my suspended legs tremble as an orgasm slowly builds in my center.

Just when I think I can’t hold on any longer, he stops and sits up. He unzips his pants and pulls out his cock. I gasp at the sight of it, so big and rigid with serpentine veins that run its length. From his back pocket a condom appears. With practiced movements he rolls it on. I almost stop him, wishing I could feel him bare inside me, but don’t.

The truth is that I don’t know him, even though it feels like I do. Even though there’s something familiar about him, almost comforting. No. It’s better to use protection. Given how quickly he did the knots that bind me to the bed, I can safely assume I’m not the first woman he’s done this with.

Once he’s sheathed, his hand comes back to me, fingers slowly stroking. “Are you ready?”

I nod.

“What’s the safe word?”

“Cupcake.”