Page 40 of Stat: Love In Scrubs
Iwanted her to feel me—my hands working so deep she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even remember her own name. Yara’s low sounds slipped through the steam, her body loosening under my touch, and it almost pulled me under with her.
But this wasn’t about me. It was about the way she let her head fall back, trusting me without a second thought. The way she breathed heavier when my hands slowed down, like she needed proof I wasn’t just rushing to get off. She didn’t have to tell me what she wanted. Her body said it clearly enough.
Water slicked across her skin, warm and heavy. I washed her slow, steady, not because I had to but because I wanted her to know—this wasn’t a quick fuck in a bathroom. This was me seeing her.
I dropped to one knee and lifted her leg onto my shoulder. The spray pounded against my back, but I barely noticed. All Isaw was her watching me, like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to run or dare me to keep going.
I kissed above her knee, soft at first. She sucked in a breath, sharp enough to make my cock twitch. My hand slid higher before I even thought about it. I already knew this body, the way it gave her away every time she tried to stay quiet.
When I pressed my mouth where she was hottest, her moan hit me like a punch. I slowed down, forcing myself to, because she deserved more than me rushing. She deserved to feel every second of it.
I let her leg down and pulled her against me, water rolling between us. I kissed her—unhurried, rougher than soft, the kind of kiss that promised I wasn’t going anywhere.
We rinsed each other off, tension building thicker than the steam. Out of the shower, I wrapped her in a towel before drying myself quickly. Then she let hers drop, slow, deliberate.
My jaw flexed. My hand gripped my cock and stroked, slow and tight, while I watched her tease her breasts. I wasn’t in a rush. Not with her. Not this time. I planned to make sure she remembered every damn second.
She stood there bold as hell, not hiding a thing, her eyes locked on me like she wanted to see just how far I’d take it. My fist tightened around my dick, slow strokes that had her lips parting, her chest rising faster with every pull of my hand. I could’ve taken her right there—hell, I wanted to—but patience was its own kind of power. I was a Que; discipline ran in my blood. And right now, discipline meant dragging this out until she couldn’t stand another second without me.
“Lay back,” I told her, my voice low, the kind of command that came from deep in my chest.
She did, slipping onto the sheets with that towel long forgotten, her legs parting like she’d been waiting for this all night. I climbed over her slowly, letting the weight of my bodysettle against hers. My hands traced her skin, deliberate, doctor-sure, as if I was cataloging every spot that made her shiver, every place that made her breathe my name like a prayer.
I kissed her stomach, her hip, the soft inside of her thigh. Every inch of her was mine to learn, to savor, and I wasn’t about to rush through the lesson. When I finally slid lower, my tongue finding her slick heat, the sound she made damn near broke me. I adjusted, angled, pressed deeper—every move measured, but every reaction from her wild. She tried to lift off the bed, but I held her down, a growl rumbling from my chest.
“Relax, baby,” I murmured against her. “I got you. I know exactly what you need.”
Her legs tightened around my shoulders, her hips rolling against my mouth like she was trying to chase the release I kept pulling just out of reach. I could’ve let her fall apart right then, but I wanted her trembling, on edge, begging without words. When I finally pulled back, her whimper cut straight through me. Her body glistened, chest rising and falling, eyes hazy as she tried to focus on me.
I kissed my way back up her body, slow and deliberate, until my weight pressed her into the mattress. My dick slid between her folds, teasing, not entering yet. Her nails dug into my back, a silent plea. I smirked against her lips, biting the corner of her mouth before I spoke.
“You ready, Baby? ’Cause once I’m in, I’m not letting you go.”
She nodded, but that wasn’t enough. I needed to hear it.
“Say it.” My voice came rough, commanding.
When she whispered her yes, I eased forward, pushing inch by inch until I was buried to the hilt. Her gasp hit my throat like fire, her body gripping me so tight it damn near pulled my soul out of me.
For a moment, I didn’t move. I just held her there, my forehead pressed to hers, letting her feel every bit of me, lettingmyself feel the way her body opened around mine. It wasn’t about the stroke yet; it was about giving her time, giving her me. When her hands slid up my arms and her hips lifted in invitation, I finally pulled back and drove in again, slow, controlled, the kind of rhythm that said I knew exactly how to work her body.
Each thrust was measured, angled just right, her moans confirming what I already knew—how to push her toward the edge, how to keep her there until she shattered. I wanted to hear her lose herself, to know that when I finally let go, it would be together. I slowly pulled out of her sweet heat, then grabbed her ankle, flipping her over onto her stomach.
Yara immediately got into position. I reached out and slapped her ass. The way her pussy glistened from the back made my dick harder. I leaned forward, biting her ass cheek, causing her to yelp, then moan. I instantly latched onto her clit. Sucking and nipping on her bud until her legs shook.
“You’re shaking, but you’re still opening for me. That’s why you’re mine.”
I placed my right foot on the mattress beside her. Then lined my dick up with her entrance. I leaned to take one more lick between her folds. The taste of her was beyond addictive, but the feeling I got when her pussy strangled my dick was something I would kill over.
I gripped her hip with one hand and my dick with the other. I slid my dick between her folds a few times before sliding so deep into her I didn’t know where she started, and I began. I reached forward, wrapping my hand around the front of her neck, and the other around her waist to pull her back against my chest.
“Say you’re mine, Yara. Say it while I’m inside you,” I groaned against her ear.
Her moans came out choppy as she tried to catch her breath between my deep strokes. I slowed up my strokes so I could hear her declaration clearly.
“I’m yours—just don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.” She begged.
“Mine. And I’ll remind you every chance I get, until no part of you questions it.”
