Page 7 of Stalked By the Doctor

He moves the stethoscope across my chest, lingering over my breasts. A soft groan escapes him, and heat pools between my thighs.

Finally, he straightens, clearing his throat. "Your heart and lungs sound strong and healthy." His gaze rakes over me, simmering with desire. "You seem to be in peak physical and mental condition. However, I should perform a...more thorough examination, to be safe."

My lips part on a gasp as understanding hits me. "Yes, Dr. Jameson. Please examine me...completely."

A predatory smile curves his mouth. "Lie back on the bed and remove the rest of your clothes. This will be a very hands-on examination."

Shivering in anticipation, I lie back and strip off my pants and panties. I watch through hooded eyes as he undresses, desire burning hotter with every inch of skin he reveals.

He looms over me, gloriously naked, eyes glowing with hunger. "What a perfect specimen you are," he purrs. "This examination will be most...pleasurable."

He lowers himself onto me, and I moan as our bodies align in delicious friction. At last, my salvation is at hand.

I arch into him as he thrusts inside me, stretching and filling me. Our cries of pleasure mingle and echo off the walls.

With each drive of his hips, the ache in my core intensifies. The friction borders on pain, but I crave more. Harder, faster, deeper.

He obliges, pinning my wrists above my head and snapping his hips against me. I'm drowning in sensation, losing myself in the rhythm of our joining.

Nothing exists but this moment, this pleasure, this connection.

Dr. Jameson groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. "So perfect, so tight. You're mine, all mine."

His words trigger a rush of heat and I shatter around him, back arching in ecstasy. He finds his own release with a shout, spilling inside me.

We lie together, limbs entwined, breathing hard. I curl into his side, basking in the afterglow.

I awaken with a gasp, my body slick with sweat and my core throbbing. I slide my hand between my legs and groan at the wetness I find there.

Guilt and shame flood me. The things I dream about Dr. Jameson are wrong. I'm his patient.

But still, I can't help but think of the handsome doctor. His kind eyes, the way I wish he would do the things to me I dream about.

I toss and turn all night, wrestling with my conflicting emotions.

And then I drift off to sleep again...

Dr. Jameson arrives for my appointment. I meet his gaze steadily, ignoring the rush of heat at seeing him again. "We can't do this anymore. I think it's best if you transfer me to another doctor."

His eyes flash with anger and something darker. "I won't allow it."

I swallow hard, unnerved by his tone. "I'm your patient, not your possession. You have no right to tell me what I can and can't do regarding my own care."

He stalks toward me, and I back up instinctively. He crowds me against the wall, hands braced on either side of my head, and leans in until our noses nearly touch. "You belong to me now, Britney. I won't give you up so easily."

Panic rises in my chest at his words, yet there's also a thrill at the thought that he wants to possess, that I drive him to such madness. I try to push him away, but he doesn't budge. "Let me go! I never want to see you again."

"You don't get to make that choice." His eyes are smoldering. "You're mine, and I always get what's mine."

He claims my mouth in a bruising kiss, and I renew my struggles, terror and desire flooding my senses. But he's too strong, and I'm helpless in his grip. As darkness overtakes me, his sinister promise echoes in my mind.

I belong to him now.

I come to with a gasp, disoriented and confused. It takes me a moment to realize I'm in my apartment, safe in my own bed.

Just a nightmare. Well, can I call it a nightmare if I half liked it? But what the hell is wrong with me that I even like the thought of Dr. Jameson giving me no choice? The memory of Dr. Jameson's possessive grip and chilling words still haunt me and make my sex damp. I press my thighs together to try to ease the ache that blossoms there.

When Dr. Jameson arrives for my appointment later, I have to focus on breathing steadily so he doesn't pick up on the erratic beating of my heart. I stare at a spot on the wall, avoiding his gaze, afraid he'll see right through me.

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