Page 20 of Stalked By the Doctor

He leads me through the front entrance, his hand resting on the small of my back, warmth seeping through the thin fabric of my blouse. "What do you think?"

I swallow hard, blinking at the sharp angles and reflective surfaces surrounding me. It's impressive. Meticulous. "It's very modern."

"Only the best for my patients." His eyes shine, lingering on my face. "I want them to know they're in capable hands."

My classes start next week, a new chapter waiting to unfold. But right now, all I can think about are Paul's hands—strong, confident hands that know exactly what they're doing. Hands that have touched every inch of my body, teasing and tormenting until I'm begging for release.

Paul crowds me against the reception desk, his breath hot against my ear. "I have an hour before my next patient arrives. Plenty of time to continue your...treatment."

Heat pools between my legs, my traitorous body responding to his proximity. I know I should refuse, keep our relationship professional, but the desire is too much. It always is with him. "I'm not sure that's appropriate." My protest lacks conviction.

A low chuckle. "When have we ever cared about appropriate?" His fingers skim the edge of my skirt, inching higher. "You're the one who wanted a more...hands-on approach to your therapy."

"Paul..." His name comes out as a moan as he finds the apex of my thighs. I love these games we play.

"That's Dr. Jameson to you." His eyes gleam with wicked intent. "Now, shall we begin your session? I think it's time to explore some new techniques."

Sharp desire spikes through me, melting away any lingering doubts. My addiction to this man will be my undoing, but I can't bring myself to care. Not when being with him feels so damn good.

I meet his smoldering gaze, a flush creeping into my cheeks. But my voice comes out steady, laced with challenge. "Do your worst, Doctor."

A wolfish grin. "With pleasure."

Then his mouth crashes into mine, and I surrender myself to his skillful hands once more.

Our passion burns white-hot, fueled by our ever-raging desire for one another that only seems to burn brighter every day. Paul's hands roam my body, setting my nerves aflame. I arch into him, craving the delicious friction of skin on skin.

"I need you," he murmurs against my throat, his lips and teeth scraping over my pulse point.

A groan escapes me as he grinds his hips into mine. "Then take me."

The blunt command spurs him into action. Clothing is shed in a flurry of movement, tossed haphazardly onto the floor.

Paul lifts me onto the counter, the granite cool against my heated skin. I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him close. Our lips meet in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue.

With a low, primal growl that resonates deep within him, he slides into me. The sudden, fulfilling intrusion of him steals my breath away, leaving me gasping for more. His masculine scent fills my senses, mingling intoxicatingly with the musky aroma of our shared desire. I cling to him, my nails digging into the firmness of his back, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation that courses through me like electric current.

His body is chiseled; hard in all the right places and softer where it counts. His movements are powerful yet gentle, every action marked by a control that drives me wild with anticipation. My fingers explore, tracing the roadmap of muscles under his skin. His touch is hot against my skin, as though his very essence sparks with searing heat.

Our bodies intertwine. His mouths finds my neck, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine as he explores every inch of me. Our eyes lock, and in them I see a mirror of my own desire reflected back at me.

My body responds with equal fervor, fitting perfectly against him like two pieces of a lust-filled puzzle. Each arching movement hits a spot deep inside me that makes my toes curl in exquisite pleasure.

We're beyond words now. Only gasps and groans fill the room as we succumb to our primal urges, giving and taking in equal measure. Nothing else matters but this moment, this timeless dance of passion and desire that eclipses everything else.

He sets a punishing pace, his thrusts deep and hard. I meet each one, craving the exquisite pleasure-pain that sparks through my veins. The world narrows to this moment, this connection between us. Nothing else matters but the slide of skin, the meeting of bodies, the rhythmic beat of our hearts keeping time.

"Shit," he growls against my skin, pulling me closer to him as though we could somehow melt into one another. The feel of him buried deep inside me sends delicious shockwaves coursing through my veins as we reach that dizzying pinnacle—together.

And then Paul shifts, hitting a new angle that sends stars exploding behind my eyelids. A scream rises in my throat as my release crashes over me, wave after wave of ecstasy stealing my senses.

Through the haze of my climax, I'm dimly aware of Paul following after me, his hoarse shout echoing in my ears. We collapse against each other, a tangle of sated limbs and racing pulses.

In the aftermath, a bone-deep contentment suffuses me. Here, in Paul's arms, I've found my sanctuary. Here, I'm home.

We lie there for a long moment, catching our breath. Paul brushes a kiss against my temple, his hands tracing lazy circles on my back.

I nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his scent. "I love you." The words slip out without conscious thought, a simple truth.

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