Page 71 of Dr. Roz Harrington
Sam’s breath caught.
“Come to the bed,” Roz said. “Lie down.”
Sam climbed onto the bed and lay back against the pillows, legs slightly parted, hands resting on her stomach. She didn’t fidget. She didn’t ask. She waited.
Roz undressed slowly, folding each piece of clothing slowly, not to tease, but to be present. She saw Sam watching her, breath shallow, thighs tensing just slightly beneath the robe’s hem.
When she was fully nude, Roz climbed onto the bed, straddling Sam’s thighs, hands braced on either side of her.
She leaned down, their noses brushing against each other. “Tonight, I want you to forget everything outside this room. You don’t need to be anything except mine.”
Sam nodded. “I want that.”
“I know.” Roz kissed her again, deeper now. More hunger. More heat. “I’m going to take care of everything.”
“Please.”
Roz sat back on her heels, letting her fingers trace the tie at Sam’s waist. “You’ve been a good girl lately. Haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve worked hard. Kept your head down. Bit your tongue.”
Sam nodded, breath catching.
Roz untied the robe slowly, letting the silk fall open, revealing Sam’s bare body in deliberate increments—the curve of her breasts, the soft valley of her stomach, the flush rising up her throat.
“You deserve to be spoiled,” Roz said. “Don’t you?”
Sam’s voice was barely audible. “Yes.”
Roz kissed the ribbon at her throat. “Then let me.”
She shifted lower, pressing kisses to Sam’s chest, her sternum, the side of her breast, the sensitive skin just beneath it. She moved slowly, like unwrapping something precious, before finally taking one nipple into her mouth.
Sam gasped.
Roz sucked lightly, then swirled her tongue, her hand sliding to the other breast to pinch and roll until both nipples were peaked and aching.
“You’re so responsive,” Roz murmured, lifting her head. “Already needy for me?”
Sam nodded.
Roz kissed her again, this time lower—her ribs, her navel, her hips. She slipped off the robe completely and gently spread Sam’s legs.
Sam was already wet. Already open.
Roz didn’t comment. She didn’t need to.
Instead, she lowered her mouth and kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other. She pressed her cheek against Sam’s skin, her fingers stroking along her folds, soft and exploratory.
“You’re such a good girl,” she whispered. “Always so ready for me.”
Sam whimpered.
Roz licked her once, long and slow, then again, each pass of her tongue precise, steady, controlled. She sucked lightly at her clit, using just the tip of her tongue to circle, to tease, to torment.
Sam lifted her hips, and Roz placed a firm hand on her stomach, holding her in place.
