Shards of pleasure shot through her. Sank into her core. Her pussy grew wetter, constricting in pre-emptive pulses as Erik played with her clit, and she closed her eyes. Her knees trembled, weakened by pleasure and euphoric delight. How the hell was she going to stay standing up if it already felt this—
A hot tongue slid over her pussy lips, and she cried out.
“That’s my girl,” Erik approved. “Don’t hold anything back.”
He licked her again, holding her foot on his shoulder as he moved his other hand to squeeze her arse.
Holy crap, it’s so good. So freaking good.
“You taste like heaven, Bebe,” he murmured against her pussy. “Ambrosia. I’m addicted to you already. I’m going to need to taste you every damn day.”
He licked her over and over, bringing her to the brink of orgasm more than once, and then moving his mouth away to nibble on her hip bone, her belly, until she begged him to go back to her pussy.
He teased her like that, lashing his tongue over her clit until she was about to come, and then branded her hip, her waist, with fierce love bites as he waited until she’d ebbed back from eruption, telling her with murmured words how obsessed he was with her.
And then he returned to her clit again.
Over and over.
“Holy…h-holy…” Drowning in such intense pleasure, she could barely see straight. “C-c—”
Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he slowly drew closer and sank two fingers into her folds. “Christ, you’re so tight!”
Pride flooded her at his exclamation.
“Tight and beautiful and mine,” he said, just before he sucked her clit completely into his mouth. And bit.
*
“Oh God!” Bebe cried out, her hips bucking forward as she grabbed a fistful of his hair.
Hot, mind-blowing pleasure ripped through Erik.
He sucked and bit her clit again, sinking his fingers deeper into her entry. Her inner muscles gripped him, wet and hot and exquisite. Every thrust and wriggle he made with his fingers, her moans grew louder. And with every loud moan, he sucked more on her clit, lashing it with his tongue.
She bucked again and again, both hands in his hair, her foot pressed harder on his shoulder. No complaint there; he fecking loved how wildly she responded. Trembling, her juices flowing from her, at once both sweet and salty. The taste of it on his tongue flooded his cock with hungry blood, turning it ramrod hard. Christ, he wanted to bury it inside her sweet sex, all the way to his balls. And he would.
Not yet though. Not until he’d made her come on his face, his tongue, his hand, out here on the porch.
He flicked his tongue faster over her clit, twisting his wrist until he stroked her G-spot. Her bucks turned wild. So did her moans.
“Oh God, Erik! Oh God…”
The way she groaned his name—Erik—the fact she called him that and not Doctor turned him on so much, he was on fire.
He continued to lap at her clit, to worship her pussy with his fingers. She tugged and pulled at his hair, her moans turning to panting gasps.
Close. She was so close. He could taste it. Hear it. Feel it.
She was going to come soon, and he could do one of two things: let her, or make her wait.
Let her come on his tongue, or build her to a feverish pinnacle of desire and need. Allow her release, or push her to the brink of insanity with pleasure and denied release.
Was she ready for the latter? Would she forgive him if he did that?
“E-Erik…I’m going to…”
Her moan dissolved into a whimper as he slid his mouth from her clit and withdrew his fingers from her pussy. They came away drenched with her juices. Settling back on his haunches, he looked up at her and licked his fingers.
“Wh-what?” Eyes glazed with pleasure, breasts heaving, she frowned down at him. “I didn’t…I haven’t—”
“I know.” Slowly rising to his feet, he traced his fingertips along her bottom lip.
Breaths shallow, she frowned at him again. And yet, a glint danced in her eye, a hint of mischief. He’d always suspected there was a side to Bebe she kept hidden from everyone at the hospital. He’d seen it glinting in her eyes sometimes, seen hints of it in the twist of her lips when a doctor was being a pretentious git around her. A wild side. He’d imagined more than once what it would be like to see that wild side. That side of herself she tried to constrain. He didn’t want her to control herself, and the glint dancing in her eye now told him she was having trouble doing just that.
Good.
“Taste yourself,” he said, lowering his gaze to her mouth.
“Like this?” she whispered, before sliding her tongue over her lip.
Hell yeah, like that. “You taste like nectar.”
Her breasts heaved again and she swayed towards him.
Chuckling, he stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder and shook his head.
She lifted an eyebrow, a challenge in her eyes. “Is there something wrong?”
Christ, she was incredible.
As an answer, he kissed her. Crushed her lips with his and fed her taste back to her with his tongue. She groaned and tangled her hands in the hair at the back of his head. For a second, he allowed it, and then he grabbed her arse and spun her, slamming her to the wall outside, next to the open door.
He didn’t stop kissing her, he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. Instead, he snagged her wrists and pinned them to the wall above her head, grinding his erection—still trapped in his pants—against her lower stomach.
When she started to tremble, he slid his palms down her arms, cupping a full breast with one and gripping her hip with the other. “You want to come, don’t you,” he said against the side of her throat.
She nodded, her groan vibrating against his lips. “Hell yeah.”
In response, he pinned her wrists above her head again with one firm fist and sank two fingers into her pussy.
Pleasure etched her face and she arched into his hand, eyes fluttering closed, lips parting.
“I said I wanted you to come on my face.” He stroked his fingertips against her G-spot. “But I think I want you to come on my hand first.”
“I’d heard,” she arched again, a tiny smile playing with the corner of her lips even as she rolled her head against the wall, “about how bossy you were.”
He grew still for a moment. “During sex?” How? He’d never been like this with anyone else. She brought out something in him he still couldn’t fathom.
Her smile curled wider and she shook her head. “No, just at work. The only things I’ve known about you and sex were from my own fantasies.”
She’d fantasized about sex with him? A wall of concentrated lust and joy crashed through him. “Am I living up to the fantasies?”
Opening her eyes, she smiled at him. “You have no idea.”
Her throaty confession ignited an inferno inside him. As did the way she contracted her pussy muscles around his fingers.
He chuckled, then increased the speed of his fingers stroking inside her. “Good. Do you have a problem with me being bossy? While I’m fucking you?”
Please don’t let it be a problem.
A shaky laugh fell from her. “Depends. Do you—”
He pinched her clit a little, and she gasped, the sound turning to a tormented groan.
“No fair…”
He chuckled again and nibbled at her bottom lip. “Do I…?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him, that mischievous smile playing with her lips again. “Do you plan on being this bossy all the time?”
“When it comes to giving you pleasure…” He teased her clit again, and she let out the most intoxicating sound of delight he’d ever heard. “Maybe.”
A heavy breath fell from her lips and she rolled her hips, taking his fingers deeper. “Hmm. I think I could live with it. Tell me, do you put the toilet seat down?”
He laughed outright. Couldn’t help himself.
Being with her, talking with her, joking with her…it was incredible. “If it means I can have you whenever I want,” he whispered, gently pressing his forehead to hers, “I’ll put the toilet seat down.”
“Then in that case,” she squeezed his fingers with her pussy and wrapped one leg around his hip, “boss away.”
Once again, he laughed. This woman would be the end of him. He kissed her, slowly at first, savouring the way her lips and tongue moved against his, with his.
She pulled his hips closer to hers, squeezing his scissoring fingers again.
He tightened his grip on her wrists, not because she was fighting against his hold, but because if he didn’t, he’d rip open his fly and embed himself inside her. Her tightness, her heat, called to him, and his cock was only too eager to answer.
Instead, he kept her arms above her head and branded his way down the side of her throat, leaving his mark on her skin with his mouth as he worked her clit and G-spot over and over.
A late afternoon Northerly blew down from the hills, cooling his flushed skin, a rational reminder he was taking her, claiming her outside. The rush of their public location sent fresh blood to his groin. Who knew he would get off on the possibility of being watched with Bebe?
But then, if she hadn’t left his office two nights ago, he probably would have taken her there, where anyone from the hospital could have walked in.
Christ, what had she done to him?
Who the fuck cares?
He should. This was his career. Her career. He should care about—
“Erik…” she moaned, rolling her hips again. “Erik…I’m about to…”
She opened her eyes and met his gaze, and he drowned in the pleasure burning in their blue depths. She’d come to him. He’d given her so many chances to leave, and she hadn’t. And now…
“Come for me, babe,” he ordered. “Please.”
Please.
His heart thumped fast at the word. He’d never said it during sex before. Christ, he hardly said it at all.
“Please,” he repeated, a heartbeat before Bebe’s inner muscles contracted with tight pulses and his fingers, palm and wrist grew wet with her release.
“Oh God,” she cried out, as her orgasm squeezed his fingers. “Oh God, yes!”
So unabashed. So uninhibited and unapologetic that she was coming. It almost pushed Erik over the edge. Grinding his teeth, fighting off his own release, he fucked her with his fingers until the pulses of her climax began to slow.
She moaned, and yet at the same time, a shaky laugh danced in the sound.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, unable to stop his own smile. Huh, who would have thought the sound of a woman laughing while he made her come would also turn him on so much?
With a little shake of her head, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “I just realized how correct everyone at Central Perth is when they say you’re phenomenal with your hands.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Wait until you truly experience what I can do with my tongue.”
And before she could reply, he dropped to his knees in front of her and stroked his tongue over her clit.
Cum coated her flesh, and he lapped at it, greedy for the taste. He cleaned her folds with his mouth, loving the way she moaned and groaned his name as he did. Her hands found their way to his hair again, and once again, she tugged fistfuls of it with each swipe of his tongue. Pleasure and pain mingled in his scalp, detonating an urgency in him he struggled to ignore.
Hell, he’d never been so engorged or so ready.
He parted her folds a little with his thumbs, exposing her clit more to his mouth, and sucked the tiny nub past his lips, making her tug on his hair again. Ribbons of need and lust unfurled through him. He’d never had a sexual partner turn him on so much with her responses.
And he wanted to give her more.
So much more.
He lapped and flicked at her clit over and over.
“That’s it, Erik.” She pulled at his hair again. “Keep going. Keep going!”
Who was the bossy one now? Talk about an intense rush. He grinned against her sex and then closed his teeth around her clit in a playful nip.
“God yes!” she cried out, and then moaned as he licked her pussy again and again.
It pushed her over the edge. She bucked, slamming her hips forward as her second orgasm flowed from her.
So sweet. So…so…her. He couldn’t get enough. He was addicted already. He’d never get enough of her.
Christ, he was a prisoner now.
How the hell did he feel about that?
As the last of her release slicked his tongue, he settled back on his haunches and gazed up at her.
“Holy fuzzbucket.” She slumped back against the wall, one hand pressed to her eyes, the other on her stomach. The picture of beautiful, sated pleasure. Yeah, he was addicted to that already as well. Did she realise it? That she had such power over him now?
Did he dare give her more? The moment he sank his length into her, there would be no going back. Did he surrender completely to her?
“Bebe…” He whispered her name, and she looked down at him.
“Erik,” she whispered back, feathering her fingertips over the lines of his jaw. She smiled, and he knew the answer.
Reaching up, he closed his fingers around her wrists, removed her hands from his face, and straightened to his feet. “Come inside with me?”
Of course he was going to surrender to her.
Chapter 5
So okay. Okay, we are doing this.
A hot flush rushed through Bebe and she let out a shaky chuckle. They’d been doing it outside, although it was mainly Erik that had been doing it, doing her, as such. When it came down to it, she’d done little but pull his hair and come all over his face and hand. Not that she was complaining. What kind of idiot would complain about the hottest guy in the world giving her the best orgasms of her life?
She wasn’t an idiot.
She was, however, a novice nurse who knew deep down in her reckless, enamoured bones that what was happening between them would end in tears. For all the reasons she’d tried to talk herself out of going there in the first place, plus the fact Erik really had given her the best orgasms of her life.
It had been goddamn near impossible not to become hung up on Dr. Erik Murphy when he was merely a sexy-as-sin, insanely successful surgeon who’d featured way too often in her sexual fantasies. Now that she knew his phenomenal performance in her fantasies wasn’t even close to his performance in real life…
None of this stopped her from following him into his home.
Again, she wasn’t an idiot. And yes, this would end in tears. But she’d lick her wounded pride later.
For now…
Two steps into his living room, he tugged her to his body and captured her lips with his.
She melted into him, the kiss turning her into a puddle of pleasure. Her fingers crawled their way into his hair again. Huh, who knew she had a hair-pulling kink? What if Erik didn’t like it?
She pulled away from the kiss and trailed her hands out of his hair and down to his chest. “Sorry.” Crap, heat filled her cheeks. Talk about the worst time to get embarrassed. “I don’t mean to keep pulling—”
“When you pull my hair, Bebe,” he said, touching a finger to her bottom lip, “I almost fecking come.”
A wide smile split her face. So much for decorum. Huh. Who was she kidding? Any hope of decorum had gone out the window when she’d undressed on his front porch. “In that case—”
Before she could tangle her fingers in his hair again, his mobile phone rang.
They both startled. Bebe giggled, something about his impatient scowl as he crossed to where his phone sat on a coffee table in the middle of his massive living room telling her exactly what he thought of the interruption.
Trying not to listen in on his conversation, she moved her attention to a framed photo of him and two other men—one older, one younger, b
oth with broad shoulders and dark hair—on the wall. His brothers? The ones he’d mentioned earlier in the morning when she’d been talking to the young patient with all the brothers and sisters?
Whoever they were, even though they bore a resemblance to each other, neither of them had Erik’s lips.
She’d once sat and listened to Glen and a few of the other nurses rate the surgeons at Central Perth based on their lips. Everyone had agreed Erik’s were a ten. Defined, almost sculpted, close to being almost too pink, his lips were made to be kissed. They’d all agreed. One of the nurses—damn it, what was her name—had spent an inordinate amount of time describing what it might actually feel like to be kissed by him.
A soft chuckle slipped from Bebe. If only she could tell the other woman she hadn’t even come close to how incredible it was.
But there was no way she could. Even if she wanted to brag to the world Erik Murphy was the best kisser she’d ever had, she wouldn’t say a word. It was going to be hard though, especially if whatshername started raving on about what it would be feel again.
“Christ,” she heard Erik say right behind her. “I lost track of time. Sorry, Whittaker. I’ll be there.”
Whittaker? Dr. Brogan Whittaker? Chair of Surgery?
A warm hand smoothed up her arm, and she jumped again, turning to look at him.
His mobile phone was still pressed to his ear and his scowl had morphed into an expression she couldn’t read. Worry? Agitation? He was famous for being quick to irritate around the hospital. If you didn’t make the grade for Dr. Murphy, your professional life became a living hell.
Or was it regret in his face? Regret about them? Did the Chair of Surgery already know?
Her stomach churned and she stepped backwards, straightened her bra and buttoned her dress the best she could. A few were missing, but thankfully none that would let her dress gape open.
What were the chances Dr. Whittaker would let her stay on at Central Perth if she’d slept with one of his surgeons? Although, technically they hadn’t really done that. Would semantics save her job? Was it against the hospital code of conduct for nurses to have sexual relations with doctors and surgeons on staff?
Pinning It Down Page 6
