Page 13 of Possessive Surgeon

I stand up and set her down in my place on the bed so that she can watch me remove my clothes. Her eyes grow wide when she sees me naked for the first time. She’s breathless from what I assume is a combination of fear and desire.

I gently push her down on the bed and hover over her, blowing on her neck and chest, causing goosebumps to rise all over her body. I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life to taste her beautiful tits, and I suck her pretty, pink nipples.

Her soft fingers explore my shoulders, across my biceps, and onto my chest as I continue to suckle her breasts and lick her neck. I push her legs apart and resume fondling her warm, wet center. She arches her back and sighs as I stroke the supple, pink flesh. My manhood throbs in anticipation as I prepare her for my entry.

She closes her eyes as I position myself against her.

“I want you to look at me, baby. Open your eyes,” I tell her.

Her eyes open and plead with me to give her release from the intense state of arousal that my fingers have placed her in, but it isn’t time for her to come. It’s time for her to feel me inside her. I press the tip against her little hole, and after some slight resistance, I slide inside her.

She’s super tight but wet enough to handle me so I slowly feed her the entire length of my cock. Her eyes widen when she feels the walls of her pussy stretch to accommodate me. I remain motionless for a moment, savoring this first encounter then fuck her in slow, steady strokes.

“You feel good on my shaft, baby. I’m gonna go a little harder,” I tell her but I don’t know if my words even register. I’ve been stroking her clit with my shaft on my outstroke, and she’s about to explode. Her muscles tighten around me as she cries out and any ideas that I had about giving her a gentle introduction fly right out the window. I thrust my cock inside her in hard, deep thrusts, and she writhes beneath me begging me for more

“Oh, god. It feels good,” she cries.

“Take it all, my good girl. Make daddy come.” I don’t know where that came from, but it felt right. She is my good little girl, and I want to be her daddy.

“Yes, daddy, yes,” her words shoot from my ears to my penis and I come with a force that makes every nerve ending in my shaft tingle with a sensitivity that walks the line between pleasure and pain.

“Was it good?” she asks me as I collapse on top of her tiny frame.

“It was the best, baby,” I pant.

I don’t want her to leave me but she has to report to the NICU in the morning, so once we recover, I follow her home. I don’t like the idea of her taking the drive alone at this time of night. Once she’s safely inside her house, I pull away and head back home. Taking her virginity did nothing to alleviate my need for her. If anything, it made it stronger.

I go home to begin my mandatory week of vacation, and the anger builds inside me once again. How can Presley justify punishing me for protecting his own daughter? After some long rage-fueled reflection, I decide that the altercation I had with David Smith probably had nothing to do with Presley’s imposed punishment.

He’s punishing me for wanting Skylar. He’s playing the overprotective father and putting my patients and my career in jeopardy in the process. This thought fuels the fire inside me. He can’t do anything to change the way that I feel about Skylar or how she feels about me. It may not be rational or logical but I know that I need her in my life, and I’ll do anything to keep her there.

9

A WEEK OF CHAOS

SKYLAR

Working in the NICU is stressful and doesn’t play to my strengths. All I’ve ever wanted to be was a surgeon and I feel like my talent is being wasted here. Worse, I miss being side by side with Scott every day, and the other interns are enjoying this opportunity to gossip about what might have happened to cause my move to this new assignment.

The news of Scott’s altercation with Doctor Smith traveled quickly, and they all snicker and whisper when they see me. This place is becoming a high school for adults, and I long for the safety and protection that I feel in Scott’s arms.

My father has asked me to meet him in the cafeteria for lunch today. We haven’t spoken very much since he sent Scott on sabbatical, and I wonder what kind of lunch this will be.

“Hi, dad,” I greet him and take a seat across from him at his table. He has a stack of files spread across the table and on the bench beside him. “Working through lunch?” I ask.

“Directing this facility takes a great deal of time. I can’t waste a moment or I’d never make it home,” he looks over the rim of his glasses and grins.

“If you’d rather be alone so you can work, I understand,” I say, looking at the mess on the table and wondering where he expected me to put my lunch.

“No, I was just catching up while I waited for you. I can put these away,” he closes the file that he was reviewing and places it in a neat stack with the rest then sets them on the bench with the others.

“How are you doing? We haven’t talked much lately,” I ask, trying to move the conversation along.

“I’m fine. The question is, how are you?”

“Well, I’m not exactly excited to be working in the NICU. It’s a very noble and necessary profession but one for pediatricians, not me,” I tell him.

“That’s unfortunate but necessary for now. As long as Doctor Statton comes back to work with a fresh attitude, you can transfer back to the surgery wing,” he assures me.

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