by Madison Faye
He slides his hand up to cup my tits, sliding one finger over my sensitive nipple. I moan deeply, arching my back and pushing my ass back to take as much of his big dick as I can.
“Just like that,” he groans, his cock throbbing inside my pussy. Both of his hands move to my breasts, cupping them and teasing my nipples as he starts to fuck me like that, both of us kneeling on the bed.
“I can feel your sticky, sweet pussy dripping down my cock, angel. I can feel it dripping down my balls.” He growls, sliding a hand down to where we meet and teasing my clit as he starts to fuck me a little harder. I cry out, pushing back to meet his thrusts as his fingers tease my clit. He slides his hand back up, but this time, he brings it to his lips.
Jackson groans as he sucks my juices from his fingers.
“Fuck do you taste like candy, angel,” he growls, sliding his fingers back down. He does it again — teasing my little clit merciless as he fucks me, before bringing them up and licking them clean as I go to pieces around him.
“I know you’re close, love,” he purrs in my ear, his arms wrapping around my body and holding me so tight against his muscled chest as he starts to drive into me harder and faster. “I know you can feel how big you make my cock, and I know you can feel how heavy and swollen my balls are. Fuck, angel, I’ve been dying to give you more of my cum since this morning. I’ve been dying to fill this tight little cunt up with every fucking drop while you come so good for me.”
Our bodies crash together again and again, my clit dragging on his thick shaft with every thrust. His hands cup my breasts again, teasing my nipples as his lips and his teeth leave marks down my neck.
And I’m lost. My whole body starts to tremble — more and more out of control until I can feel the whole wave start to crash over me.
“Fuck that big fat cock, angel,” he hisses in my ear. “Pump that pussy back and take it all.”
I scream in pleasure, thrusting my ass back to take his thrusts as he gives them, feeling every inch of him drive inside.
“Now make that pussy come, sweetness. Make that tight little pussy come for me so I can feel your sweet girl-cum drip down my balls. And then I’m going to give you every drop of mine, and I want this pretty little pussy to swallow every drop.”
He drives in balls deep, his muscled body coiling and rippling at my back. His hands cup my full breasts, and when his fingers roll over my nipples and his teeth rake across my earlobe, I scream.
The orgasm explodes through me, hitting me like a storm. I cry out, my whole body tensing and clenching up tight around him as I go screaming over the edge. Jackson growls in my ear, driving his cock as deep as he can before I feel his cum blast inside of me. Pump after pump of his hot cum spurts deep inside of me, splashing against my womb until I can feel it leak out and trickle down my thighs.
Slowly, he gathers me in his arms and rolls us over, pulling my back against his chest as we lay on our sides once again. I grin, panting and snuggling back into him as he trails kisses over my shoulders.
“I love you, Ada,” he purrs into my ear, his masculine growls rumbling through me.
“I love you too,” I whisper back, turning my head to kiss him softly.
“You, uh,” I grin. “You do know I’m already pregnant though, right?” My grin widens as I see his own smile creep across his chiseled, handsome jaw. “I mean, if you were trying to knock me up, I think it’s safe to say mission accomplished, like, five months ago.”
“Smart ass,” he chuckles, pulling me close and kissing the back of my beck. “Besides, I’m just practicing.”
I arch a brow, turing to smile at him.
“For?”
My husband grins hungrily at me, and when I feel his still-hard cock throb against my ass, my pulse quickens.
“For next time, angel.”
* * *
The End.
Doctor O-Maker
Doctor O-Maker
No O? Come and meet your cure.
He’s gorgeous, dominant, panty-meltingly hot, and looks at me like he wants to tear my clothes off and fulfill every single filthy fantasy I’ve ever had.
The only problem? He’s my doctor. Oops.
I’m seeing him to fix “my problem” – my big “no O” problem. Yeah, you see, I’ve never had one – no grand finale, no big bang, no happy ending.
Never.
Doctor Aiden Owenson – “Doctor O” – is supposedly the man who can help, but I’ve got my reservations.
That is, until he puts his hands on me. Until he looks at me like he wants to devour me. Until he tells me I’m his, and his alone.
I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to fall for your doctor.
I’m pretty sure your doctor isn’t supposed to examine you in his bed, across his desk, and while you’re screaming his name.
I’m pretty sure we’re breaking every rule, and I’m pretty sure I don’t care.
Doctor O is supposed to show me the O. Now the only problem is, I never want him to stop.
* * *
Warning: side effects may include fever, elevated heart rate, sweating, and chronic page-turning far past your bed time. Steaming hot insta-love, an over-the-top dominant alpha hero, and fantasy run completely amok. But something tells me, you know exactly what this dirty little book is about ;).
Safe, no cheating, and a HEA guaranteed.
Chapter One
Aiden
The night before:
The girl came out of nowhere, and instantly I was hooked. Instantly, my blood ran like fire in my veins.
Instantly, my head turned like it hadn’t in, well, ever.
I’d seen her the second she’d stepped into the elegant, low-lit bar to the side of the restaurant. Luciano’s was an exclusive fucking place, and she was dressed for it.
Fuck was she dressed for it.
The little black dress fit her like a second skin, clinging to every single luscious curve, teasing high across her creamy thighs. Her long blonde hair fell like waves over her bare shoulders and the thin straps of the dress, and red, pouty lips looked so fucking tempting that my cock throbbed between my thighs.
I’d just eaten dinner, but instantly, I was fucking starving.
I was young, successful, and I worked out. I was a very well paid doctor, and was single. I know, I should have been bedding women every night. And if you watch too many tv dramas about doctors, you might believe that.
But the truth was, I chased my job, not pussy. I knew women looked at me, I wasn’t fucking blind. But I didn’t have the time for that. Hell, I didn’t have the interest, even in the casual.
But that night, everything changed.
She slunk towards an empty seat of the bar, but I was up and moving towards her in an instant. I’d seen what I liked, and I knew what I wanted. Like I said, I didn’t have time for women, but I knew in an instant I’d make all the damn time in the world for her.
I’d moved towards her with purpose, my eyes locked on her and my jaw tight. She turned, and when she saw me and saw the heat in my gaze, she’d stopped, her cheeks going red. I strode right towards her, pushing aside another woman who stepped up to me with a look that said she wanted to make small talk, pushing aside the waiter — hell, I’d have pushed aside the world for her.
And then I was standing right in front of her, doing everything in my power not to just wrap my arms around her, pull her close, and kiss her with everything I had.
“Hi,” she’d breathed, her pulse beating fast in the hollow of her neck as her big, hazel eyes dragged over me. Our gazes locked, and when her soft tongue darted out to wet those pouty lips, I could feel my pulse jump and my muscles clench.
“Are you here alone?”
She’d blushed deeper, stammering to say something before she’d just nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.”
She gasped quietly when I said it, and when I moved even closer to her, until we were almost touching, she didn’t move back.
…S
he moved into me.
Then I did growl, and when my hand slid to her waist, I could hear her breath catch quietly.
“What’s your name?” I’d breathed, my hand sliding over her waist as we moved together. She looked deep into my eyes, hers blinking and heavy with lust.
“Does it matter?” she said quietly.
“It will.”
“But not right now.”
“Not right now,” I’d growled, wrapping her in my arms. I’d never moved that fast. I’d never been completely thunderstruck by a woman, and certainly not in a matter of seconds. She tilted her head up, her gorgeous eyes piercing into my dark ones, and her sweet, pouty, tempting lips parting just enough to make me want to claim them.
“Let me buy you a—”
And then she’d kissed me.
She threw her arms around my neck, she’d pulled me down, and she’d crushed those perfect, soft lips of hers to mine. She’d kissed me, and my entire world turned upside down.
I groaned as I pulled her against me, not giving a single shit that we were in a bar, even if it was dark. My hand slid around her waist, yanking her body tight to mine as I kissed her hard enough to bruise. She moaned into my mouth — a hungry and sweet, sultry, yet innocent sound that got my cock swelling up rock hard in seconds.
My hands tightened on her, our bodies grinding together as our lips sealed and our tongues danced. I could feel her legs spreading ever so slightly around my thigh, and when I felt the raw heat between her legs, I’d fucking lost my mind.
Like I said, I’d never moved that fast. Hell, I’d barely had any interest in women in years, because of my work. But that night, I was willing to move heaven and hell to be with her. That night, the only thing that mattered in the entire universe, was her.
And then, in the blink of an eyes, it’d all come crashing down. She’d pulled away, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed, and lips swollen from my kiss. She’d looked up at me, she’d shaken her head and mumbled something that sounded like “sorry.”
…And then she was gone — running out of the bar and out the front door to Luciano’s before I could stop her. I’d followed, of course. But outside, all I’d found was yellow cabs, rain, and a sea of anonymous strangers.
She’d waltzed into my world, shaken it to the very core, and then left me reeling, in the blink of an eye.
But, I’d gotten a taste of perfection. And I didn’t care how long it’d take, but I’d find her again. I knew it.
And when I did, I’d never let her slip away from me again.
Chapter Two
Natalie
“Doctor Owenson will be with you in a minute.”
The doctor’s personal assistant smiled a vague, practiced smile before she turned and stepped out of the exam room. I chewed on my lip, the crinkly paper of the exam table ruffling under my butt as I shifted. I kicked my legs, my heels tapping the side of the table as I picked at my nails.
Okay, I was nervous.
I furrowed my brow, still twisting my fingers together as I glanced around the small, white, sterile room. The exam room was off of Doctor Owenson’s main office — this gorgeous, elegantly decorated mix of modern and old, with the big windows overlooking Manhattan. The office was beautiful, and warm. But the exam room off it it was, well, an exam room.
I sighed heavily to myself. This whole thing was stupid. And I wanted to roll my eyes and ask myself why the hell I was even there. But then, I knew why I was there.
Because of my problem.
My issue.
Whatever. I was twenty-four, I had a killer apartment, and I had a job with Haut Fashion Magazine that I was — frankly — kicking ass at. I mean, I was the youngest junior editor they’d ever had, and I wasn’t even done rising through the ranks. No, it hadn’t been handed to me or anything like that. I worked my ass off. I’d put in the time.
And why did I do those things? Well, because I had zero distractions. And by distractions, I mean men. No, I wasn’t repulsive, or socially weird or anything like that. I worked out, I ate right, I dressed well. I had a killer shoe collection.
But attracting men wasn’t my problem. It was what happened after that. It was the looming, inevitable conversation that’d happen sooner than later, and the inevitable giving up on their part.
Maybe I’d have done okay in another era. The fifties, maybe. I mean, Don Draper never cared about making a girl come, right? But men in today’s world, they cared. Which is a good thing, don’t get me wrong. But, they cared a lot — like, it’s a blow to them if you don’t, which is why women fake it all the time.
That’d been me. For years, I faked it.
Every. Single. Time.
The problem — well, besides the fact that I was faking my orgasms — was that it wasn’t just with my boyfriends.
…It was with myself too.
That’s why I was waiting in Doctor Owenson’s office that day. Because I was twenty-four, successful, single, doing great in life, and I’d never had an orgasm.
And I do mean never.
Not with a man, not by myself, nada.
I’d stopped dating because of it. My first boyfriend had left when I finally admitted the truth, that he’d never, you know, pulled my trigger. He just flat out left after two years of dating. Great. There were two serious boyfriends in college, and one not so serious one after. Decent, good looking, nice guys. But, yeah, same thing.
No “O.”
And it was getting ridiculous. I mean, I tried — hell, I’d tried everything. I had a drawer full of the latest and greatest sex toys in my apartment to prove it — all of them used multiple times, on every setting, to zero effect.
It was Savannah, my best friend and an art director at Haut Fashion who’d finally gotten it out of me, after we’d had one too many tequilas after work. She asked why I was so tense, I’d brushed it off, and she’d jokingly said I needed to get laid and blow off some steam.
“Nothing a good orgasm can’t fix,” she’d said.
And then I’d started bawling, and the whole thing had come out.
She soothed and comforted me, because she’s a great friend. But the more I told her, the more serious she got.
“Wait you mean never?”
“Yes, I mean never.”
“Ever?”
The next day, she’d come over and sat me down, and talked to me about the doctor her sister-in-law had gone to.
“Oh, after my brother and Patricia’s first kid?” She’d shook her head sternly. “No way. She just couldn’t anymore. The baby like, moved things around down there.”
“Um, oversharing?”
She’d laughed. “Look, I’m telling you because this doctor she saw is a miracle worker. Three sessions and she was right back on the horse.”
Savannah made a face. “Ew. Actually, pretend I never said that.”
“C’mon, Van—”
“I’m serious! Go see him. You have to. He’s in the city.”
“I’m not seeing a…” My face had blushed. “An orgasm doctor.”
She laughed again. “He’s not an orgasm doctor, he’s a fucking gynecologist. But...” she giggled.
“What?”
“Well, Patricia did start calling him ‘Doctor O.’ I mean, he’s a women’s sexual health doctor, and his name starts with O.”
I rolled my eyes.
“He’s also fucking gorgeous, if that helps.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Oh, please, it does.” My friend had sighed, taking my hands. “Look, while you think about it, have you ever thought about, I dunno, just going out and getting lucky?”
“Uh, yeah? Many times.”
“Ever acted on it?”
I’d frowned. “Nah, I’m not into that whole random thing. It’s not for me.”
“Well, it might be for you. Maybe the thrill of a stranger just you know, fucking you will do it.”
“Can we not talk about this anymore?”
“No, we can’t not tal
k about this,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Nat, you’re my best friend and I can’t let this keep happening to you. Or, you know, not happening as the case may be. C’mon! Dress up, go out someplace fancy, and get your groove on, girl!”
…And the damnedest thing was, I did.
I got dressed up.
I went out.
I picked an insanely expensive place. Not a club or a dive or a sports bar. A fancy three-star Michelin restaurant. I stepped in, dressed to the freaking nines, and stepped into the bar area to get a drink to calm my nerves.
And he’d just come out of nowhere — my stranger. Gorgeous, sexy as hell, and this commanding and magnetic presence around him.
…And he’d taken my breath away.
He’d looked right into me, making my heart stop with those eyes and that strong jaw. He’d whispered those things in my ear, he’d sent a shiver down my back that no man had ever done.
And then, like a crazy person, I’d just kissed him, and the fireworks had gone off. They’d gone off hard — more than anything had ever made me feel. He’d kissed me right back, and I’d melted into him. And I was so wet. Like, dripping down my legs wet. I’d wanted him more than I’d ever wanted any man ever.
But then, of course, my stupid head had decided to butt in, and I’d freaked. I’d freaked that I was kissing a fucking stranger in some bar I didn’t belong in, and how much that wasn’t me.
And so I’d left.
I’d jumped away from him, turned, and fled out the front door.
…You know, like a crazy person.
At home that night, I’d tried to recreate it that feeling he’d sent through my body. I’d stripped down, slid my fingers between my legs and rolled my clit under them. I’d closed my eyes so hard, and I’d tried to sink into the pleasure of it all as my fingers had slid over my wet, aching pussy. I’d tried desperately to imagine his face, and those kisses as I eased a finger inside, and then a toy.
