Pink: Hot 'n Sexy for a cure: The Books for Boobies 2015 Anthology
Page 18
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MOUTH 2 MOUTH
SURRENDER
Lisa Eugene
I watched nurses scurry like terrified rats from a drowning boat, and I didn’t have to ask why. The look of panic coloring their faces could only be caused by the imminent presence of Dr. Brad Markson, Washington Memorial Hospital’s most prized physician and world-renowned cardiothoracic surgeon. He was by all accounts, God’s gift to the human race. The man was a walking thunderstorm, instinctively dangerous, yet naturally beautiful.
My feet froze as I watched the doctors, a gaggle of residents, and medical students clad in white lab coats move down the hall toward the nurses’ station. They followed behind Dr. Markson like ducks in a row. He towered over the flock, clearly in charge.
I never grew tired of seeing him. He was gorgeous, with waves of dark hair and intense blue eyes. When those eyes latched onto you, pinning you with his full attention, it was so unnerving that you could forget to breathe.
“Who’s in trouble today?” Kim, one of the nurses, whispered nervously in my ear.
On some fucked-up level, I hoped it was me.
I could hear her work down a bumpy swallow but couldn’t take my eyes off the man gliding toward us as though he couldn’t be bothered with actual steps.
He stopped a few feet away, his minions crowding behind him. I adjusted my gaze to his face. He was tall, well over six feet, with shoulders so broad he alone filled my visual field. There was a hard body beneath the white lab coat, and his clothes seemed to sigh with every movement. Blue eyes met mine with unapologetic scrutiny. Heart beating through my chest, I looked away, afraid he’d see what was in my eyes, or worse, discern my very unprofessional thoughts.
“Who the hell's in charge here?” he barked to no one in particular. “Who’s the nurse assigned to Mr. Sanders in room two?”
“Ah... ah… it’s...” Kim stammered beside me. She was the nurse in question, and I understood her reluctance to admit to it. She was new, only on the ward for a month and not used to dealing with doctors and their unpredictable tantrums. I watched fear march across her face and worried that she might pass out from panic.
Stepping forward, I asked, “Is there a problem, Dr. Markson?”
His brow furrowed, features showing surprise that I spoke up. I usually stayed clear of him on the unit, mostly watched and savored from afar. Adjusting the stethoscope around his neck, he skewered me with a sharp gaze. My body heated by degrees, like cool stone under a hot sun.
“Mr. Sanders was due downstairs for his nuclear stress test over a half hour ago! I’ve got a team of cardiologists on standby! What the hell's going on here?”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Markson. We called for an escort a while ago, but they’re backed up.”
He tilted his head and regarded me as though I’d said something absurd. “That’s not my problem, Nurse…” he drawled, obviously trying to pull my name from his brain.
“Bennett. My name is Chloe Bennett,” I supplied, knowing full well that he was only messing with me.
Locking our gazes, he said, “I need him prepped, with a working IV of normal saline KVO, and I need him downstairs now!”
His words issued from a delectably full mouth that my attention kept returning to, but annoyed by his imperious attitude and stern demands, I had a mind to tell him to push the patient downstairs himself. The man was brilliant, could restart a lifeless heart with his miraculous hands, but his social skills were deplorably lacking. I understood his frustration, but the hospital was understaffed, and I’d not allow him to intimidate the nurses.
“Like I said, Dr. Markson, escort is backed up.” My gaze shifted to the group of drones idling behind him. “Perhaps you can have one of the medical students or residents escort Mr. Sanders.”
Beside me, Kim gasped, no doubt expecting him to fry me to a crisp with a breath of flames.
His eyes never wavered, anger brewing in their eternal depths. His lips firmed to a hard line. He wasn’t used to being challenged. No one dared to tell him what to do. I bit my lip, wondering what the hell I was thinking by provoking one of the most powerful men in the hospital. Yet I squared my shoulders and stood my ground.
“I—I can take him down,” Kim volunteered next to me, obviously sensing the storm coming. “Molly just came back from break. I'm sure she can cover my patients while I’m gone.”
I agreed with a tight nod, not happy that she’d acquiesced so easily. It wasn’t our job to transport patients, but everyone was used to nurses picking up the slack, patching the cracks in other departments. As nurses, we rarely got the acknowledgement we deserved, but we did what was required, our primary concern always the patient’s welfare. In this case, though, Dr. Markson had a bevy of lackeys. Any one of them could’ve easily done this task.
Spearing me with a long look, he turned away, but not before I saw satisfaction dance in his eyes. I sighed and shook my head. This was why I stayed away. Despite the fact that I wanted to rip his clothes off and have my way with him, I wasn’t one to blindly take orders or cower in his presence. We would butt heads time and time again.
Deciding to put the irritating incident out of my mind, I headed to the locker room behind the nurses’ station. It was early morning, only an hour before my shift ended. The ward was quiet, a sleepy musical of hums and beeps from diligent monitors.
Anticipating the mad rush at shift change, I decided to collect my belongings from my locker. In the back room, I stopped at the small sink to wash my hands. Squinting at the girl in the mirror, I saw her long dark hair with wispy bangs, limp after a long twelve-hour shift. Green eyes smudged with fatigue stared back at me.
In a dim corner of my mind, the sound of the door opening and closing registered. The person entering the room didn’t capture my attention until I saw the large image behind me reflected in the mirror. Too tired to mount the appropriate level of shock from seeing Dr. Markson in the room, I simply stared, dumbfounded at the arrogant smirk tilting up the corner of his lips.
He stepped forward, purposely pinning me against the cold sink with his body. He was so close that my senses absorbed all of him at once. Passionate hands had chiseled his features, not overly concerned with beauty, but with the intensity of each line and sureness of each slope. In the end, fusing a gorgeous canvas of compelling imperfections. He was big, possessing everything in abundance that made him deliciously male.
I understood why he was called a “thunderstorm”. The emotions he roared to life were turbulent. Wild. Out of control. The heat of his body scalded my back and rushed a flood of moisture between my legs. Strong fingers gripped my hips, tugging me back as he pressed tight into me. The unexpected feel of his hard cock bumping my ass had a gasp flying my my lips. He held my gaze and smiled, devilishly slow, making his point.
Flicking my hair aside, his lips trailed a sizzling path down my neck. I rolled my eyes, still annoyed with him, but my head tilted to offer him better access.
“Must you always get everything you want, Brad?”
He smiled against my skin, his breath warm and familiar. “I’m not getting what I want right now. Right now, I want to fuck you. Hard—for your insubordination.”
“You know damn well that you could’ve easily had one of your residents take Mr. Sanders down!” I whispered hotly.
Another swivel of his hips pressed his rigid shaft firmly against me. He was considerably harder now. I could tell even through the layers of clothing between us. Trying to stay focused, I pursed my lips.
“Or any of your damn minions.”
“Yes, I could’ve.”
He lifted his head, catching my gaze in the mirror again as his hand trailed along the waistband of my white nursing skirt.
“But that’s not their job.�
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My irritation spiked. “And I suppose it’s the nurses’ resp…”
With one quick plunge, he slid his hand into my skirt, keeping his palm flat against my belly. My gaze quickly shifted to the door that had been left ajar, showing a thin slither of the outside world. The steady rhythm of cardiac monitors beeped reassuringly.
“Brad! Someone could walk in!”
He nibbled my earlobe, seemingly unconcerned about anything other than tormenting me.
“How did you get rid of your minions?” I asked breathlessly.
“I told them I had to go play doctor with the beautiful Nurse Bennett.”
“Brad!” With a huff, I tried to jerk away, but it was futile. He held me tighter, keeping his hand in my skirt.
“I’m just kidding!” He flashed me a grin, the action transforming his usually stern features. His blue eyes softened. “Well, not about the beautiful part.”
I didn’t know whether I should give him the look I usually reserved for babies and kittens, or the one I leveled on dirty old men. Mischief swirled in his eyes, mingling with the desire simmering there. That was the Brad I loved, the one who melted my heart. There was a sexy, playful man under his cold, professional shell.
“I don’t know why you insist on keeping our relationship a secret,” he complained, not for the first time.
“Because, if people found out, it would complicate things. Because I—”
At that moment, his hand traveled lower, sliding into my panties, past my bare mound to circle a finger around my clit. I jolted as pleasure speared through my pussy, sharp and intense.
“Because…?” he asked against my ear, his finger sliding slowly through my slick folds, his cock digging into my ass.
Huh? What was I saying? “Uh… because—”
Shamelessly, I widened my stance, giving him better access. He took full advantage, groaning low and whipping his thumb over my engorged bead. I trembled in his arms, my breath panting raggedly.
“God, you’re fucking soaked!” he hissed, sucking the skin of my neck with a hot, open mouth.
My lids fluttered closed as he rubbed and spread my arousal up and down my slit, coating my lips. I groaned and watched him through the mirror. The intensity on his face was one hell of a turn-on. He was a perfectionist, obsessed with mastering every task. Sometimes that worked to my advantage.
I was only vaguely aware of where we where and what we were doing. The pleasure shivering through me and the skill of Brad’s deviously capable fingers were all that seemed to matter. A digit slowly circled my entrance, teasing the hot flesh. I shuddered then froze, waiting… waiting… a maddening ache in my pussy.
“You need to be fucked, Chloe,” he whispered, swirling the digit just inside my opening again and again.
I choked out a sound. I should tell him to stop. This was too much, too intense, too risky. My nipples throbbed. The tips of my fingers and toes buzzed expectantly. I was very close to flying apart.
My eyes rolled back in my head when he shoved two fingers deep inside me.
“Brad! Oh—”
One hand clapped roughly over my mouth, caging my head firmly against his upper chest. He glided in and out of my slippery depths, rotated, and massaged the spot he knew drove me crazy. I couldn’t catch my breath, could barely hold myself upright. Ecstasy swept through me, pinpoints of pleasure stinging my skin and wringing my muscles tight.
The walls of my pussy clamped down hard, squeezing his fingers as they pumped in and out of my soaking flesh. A tingle started, the exquisite pleasure spreading like slow molasses through my sex. Focused on one thing alone, I humped his fingers wildly, desperate to reach that peak where I could finally topple over.
“You want to come?” Brad growled harshly into my ear.
My eyes flew open, meeting his in the mirror. The vice grip he had on my head prevented me from speaking or nodding, but I knew he saw the raw lust in my watery eyes.
He gritted his teeth and fucked me furiously with his fingers, building unimaginable pressure in my cunt. A long, tortured moan was muffled by the firm press of his palm. My orgasm approached like an out of control locomotive… reckless… dangerous. My body tensed, hard.
Then the bastard pulled out and took a step back. My eyes flew open in shock. I turned, panting, a tirade on my lips. Brad’s eyes were glazed, the blue darker than a midnight sky, his body stiff with need.
“Wha—”
He placed two moist fingers to my lips, the expression on his handsome face silencing me. Giving me a knowing look, he dragged his fingers along my lips, my fluids and my scent clinging to them.
“One for you,” he whispered, offering a glistening digit.
I opened my mouth as he slid a finger inside. Holding his gaze, I greedily sucked it dry. His eyelids drifted shut and a curse rode out on his next breath. I couldn’t help my smile, glad I wasn’t the only one in agony.
“And one for me,” he said softly as he glided his other finger between his luscious lips, licking it with relish. The sight of his busy tongue rocked a tremor through me. I glared at him when I’d regained his full attention, accusation in my eyes.
He chuckled, leaning forward to kiss me, slowly tangling our tongues. “I love you, Chlo.”
Straightening, he gave me a perfectly executed smile, knowing that those words had landed deep inside me, thawing my irritation. “And,” his brow rose fractionally, “I know what you need.”
I watched in awe as he deftly opened his lab coat and then the button of his slacks. Heart racing, I glanced at the door again, mentally calculating the odds. It would take Kim a while to return, and the other nurses were all busy on the floor.
Movement snagged my gaze and I looked down. Brad’s slacks were gaped open. He fisted his cock, whipping the engorged length up and down with lightning speed. He was a big man, long and thick. Smooth skin stretched thin over a fat mushroom head and wide, veiny shaft. Clear precum drizzled from the slit, clung and rolled down his fist. He captured and used the moisture to glide his strokes, and the sight sent flutters shuddering through my wet sex.
The look on his face was wild, feral, his pupils so dilated the blue almost disappeared.
“Brad…”
I’d barely gotten his name out before he grabbed me and spun me around, trapping me hard between the sink and his body. The porcelain edge dug into my abdomen, and I struggled to take a normal breath. His long fingers squeezed my ass roughly, then rucked up my skirt, exposing my cotton covered ass. There was the harsh tug of fabric, followed by the sound of cloth ripping. Cool air swirled around my sensitive folds, adding to my agonizing need.
“Christ, Brad!” I whispered, suddenly terrified of getting caught.
His fingers explored my puffy lips, dipping into my crease. Mewling, I pushed back, unable to help myself. Single-minded, I was overwhelmed with need for this man and for what I knew he could give me.
The head of his cock slid back and forth through my folds, a maddening tease. His juices mixed with mine, creating a moist, slippery heat. Tingles started deep in my pussy again. A war waged inside, desire and fear funneling adrenaline into my veins.
Brad leaned close to my ear. His entire body enveloped me. I was heady with the feel of his hard chest against my back, his muscular thighs bracing my legs, and his strong arms crowding me. There was always comfort in the cozy shelter of his body.
“You want me to fuck you, Chlo? You want my cock?” he growled, bumping my clit with the wide head of his shaft.
“God, yes!” I choked.
He inhaled sharply. “Then beg me for it, baby.”
“Oh… God!”
“Beg me to fill your hot cunt,” he whispered, his breath sawing roughly against my neck.
I wanted to curse him, rail at him, but I knew he would only torture me further, make me wait. I was already hanging off a precarious edge, insanely aroused.
“Beg me, Chlo,” he urged, and I could tell his restraint was shaky.
Dropping my head forward, I moaned, “Brad, please…”
He slammed into me. Hard. One deep, delicious stroke that had me gripping the sink until my knuckles turned white. A storm started in the distance, quickly gaining momentum until I was consumed by it. Unfathomable pleasure raced up and down my spine, clenched my pussy, and gushed fluid around his rapidly driving cock.
My body shook, muscles locking and releasing over and over again. He kept fucking me, stifling my moans as I had one of the most intense orgasms of my life, weeping as it tumbled violently through my body.
Then he reared up, gripped my hips, and started a vicious pounding. His balls spanked my swollen pussy, ricocheting more delight through my flesh. I watched in the mirror. His face was all sharp angles and deep concentration, blue eyes almost black.
The sound of flesh slapping was loud in the room, and fleetingly, I grew concerned. Biting my lip, I trapped my screams in my throat, but wanted to give voice to this amazing pleasure. My pussy convulsed around him, a savage grip that never wanted to let go.
“Fuuuck! Fuck! So fucking tight!” he hissed.
He pulled my hips back, forcing himself deeper as he fucked me hard, banging me against the sink as he pulled all the way out then shoved back in. I knew tomorrow I’d have bruises on my belly and thighs, but nothing existed outside of this exquisite moment. Snaking a hand between our bodies, I fondled where we were joined, pictured the drag of his hard cock in and out of my cunt.
Knowing what he liked, I stroked his balls. The puckered flesh was drawn tight, filled with cum. A deep groan crawled out of his belly and his rhythm faltered. I cradled the orbs in my palm and squeezed hard, watching him grit his teeth as bliss changed the landscape of his face.
“Oh shit! I’m fucking coming!” he chanted into my neck. “Fucking coming! Squeeze my motherfucking balls! Oh fuck, yeah! Fuck, fuuuck!”