by Christa Wick
"How do I know you're not trying to drug me?"
His soft laugh sent a small shiver racing down her spine.
"Miss Marks, I've been drugging you for seven weeks. If I want to have my way with you, one squeeze between your legs and your capacity for resisting me disappears. Now drink up. You've lost far more fluid than this little bottle since you arrived."
She pushed the bottle away again. "You've made me vulnerable to any maniac—”
"No," he answered, his denial sharp. "There are certain triggers and complementary therapies based on your genetic markers. Your current vulnerability is limited—to me."
Daisy struggled in his arms until she could look into his eyes. "Why should I believe you?"
Another smile played at the corner of his mouth. The lips were flushed red, thicker than when he had first entered the exam room all ice and clinical interest only.
"You started lactating in the elevator. It was no coincidence that our paths intersected. Now drink."
Her mind suddenly numb, Daisy let Dr. Alt tip the bottle to her lips and hold it there until she had drained its entire contents.
“Why am I vulnerable to you?” she asked as he put the empty bottle aside.
“The answer to that, my delightful lady, is proprietary.”
His gaze raked over her from head to toe, lingering at her plump thighs, full hips and voluminous breasts. The scientist was gone and Alt was looking at her like she couldn’t remember any other man ever looking at her before.
Where most men saw fat, jiggly rolls, things that made them sneer and insult her outright, Alt saw something that ignited his lust.
Which made her body vibrate that much harder.
He jerked his head once from side-to-side, resetting his expression to something more neutral.
“Excuse me one moment.”
Through the door, she could hear his commanding voice speaking in German once more.
Returning, he picked up his tablet, somehow intact after its fall to the floor, and started tapping as he spoke. “Your clothes and bag are being brought from the locker room.”
Putting the tablet down, he began to wipe at her breasts with paper towels, his touch thoroughly detached and clinical. When he had her nearly dry, he met her gaze and a wry smile twisted his lips.
“You’re pouting, Miss Marks. Are you certain you're not even a little disappointed that I haven't attempted to ravish you yet?"
Fury flushing her body, Daisy pushed savagely at his hand. He withdrew from her breast, grazed his fingers over her stomach, across her mound then along one thigh, immobilizing her.
"I told you, Daisy, one squeeze. Don't tempt me again.”
Gasping at the threat, she tried to pull her legs up but their natural desire was to grow loose and compliant. A knock at the door saved her from embarrassing herself completely as her hips tried to lift upward.
“Excellent,” he said, returning from the hall with her things and a small pill cup.
Placing her clothes and bag at the foot of the exam table, he filled a second cup with water, took the capsule out of the smaller cup and broke it open, then poured less than half of the powder inside into the water.
He offered Daisy the cup, his nostrils flaring when she lifted a suspicious brow.
“It should alleviate the symptoms for fifteen or so minutes,” Alt explained. “Long enough for us to get someplace where we can negotiate your becoming a millionaire in private.”
Millionaire?
“Why can't I have the rest of the capsule?” she asked, her level of suspicion growing exponentially.
Alt grinned, the turn of his mouth falling just short of a leer as he answered. “Because I don't want you to.”
She looked at the cup of water with its fifteen-minute promise of normality. That would barely buy her enough time to speed dress and get to her beater car. But once she made it to her vehicle, Daisy could ride out the week. Without a new injection, the effects would have to fade.
Right?
She grunted, anger building as she tried to slide her legs onto the floor and a deep contraction rolled through her pussy.
“I need to get dressed first,” she said, harsh pants lifting her breasts in a distracting rhythm.
Dr. Alt nodded and reached for one of the bandages he had prepared to place over her breasts.
“I’ll do it myself,” Daisy snapped.
He smirked at her but backed away. “You’ve been doing it yourself quite a lot lately, haven’t you?”
Avoiding his gaze, she used medical tape to secure the thick pads over her nipples, every brush of the material or her hands on her breasts making her wince and flame with need. By the time she was finished and dressed, she was shaking like a junkie in need of the next fix.
Grabbing the water with the dissolved medicine, she slammed it down in one swallow.
A faint smile turning his mouth charming, Dr. Alt handed over her purse.
“You have a banking app, perhaps?”
Daisy gave a grudging nod.
“Good, please check your balance.”
She slid her phone from her purse as he waited with his back leaning casually against the door, his gaze traveling over her clothed form with the same sensual burn as when she’d had no more than paper panties on.
Logging into her bank’s app, she saw the balance had changed since that morning — significantly.
She’d had seventy-five dollars when she woke up. Now she had ten thousand seventy-five.
If she had actually received the injection that morning, Pharmalten would have authorized a thousand dollar disbursement that would have landed in her account Friday. The seventy-five would have been pinched as tightly as possible on gas and parking for school until then.
She couldn’t even imagine having ten thousand in her bank all at once. But just what the hell did Alt think he was paying her for?
“I can see by the angry flush coloring your lovely cheeks that you want to storm out of the building. That,” he stopped and pointed at the phone, “is for ninety more minutes of your time, during which we will…discuss your future.”
"You're talking bullshit," Daisy accused.
His brows lift in mild disapproval. Herr Doctor probably didn’t swear. He just doped up women with chemicals that made them produce more milk than a dairy cow while they struggled with the desire for a long, hard fucking.
Yeah, all that, but he had to frown at her for saying “bullshit.”
She shoved the phone in her purse and shouldered the bag.
Screw him and the high horse his sneaky, lying ass rode in on!
“Bullshit, eh?” Alt smiled at Daisy, the blue eyes twinkling. “Not at all, Miss Marks. You consented to a genetic profile."
“Yeah, I know. So what?”
"You didn't sign away the rights to exploit the information obtained in your profile."
Damn him and the way he leaned so casually as her fifteen minutes of calm bled away.
“Of course not,” she huffed. “I’m not your average idiot…I mean…”
Her intended retort devolved into a snarling growl that hurt her throat.
At least her pussy was no longer raging right along with her. She could still feel the wet heat between her legs, but the throbbing was gone. Whatever Alt had given her worked quickly.
Straightening, Alt rested one hand on the doorknob, his lips pursing for several seconds, his gaze on the clock on the wall instead of Daisy.
”I want to buy rights to the information in your profile,” he explained at last. “Under the laws of the country our patent holding company is in, that means a percentage of profits.”
Abandoning his position by the door, he moved until his broad, muscular chest was less than a centimeter from rubbing against her swollen, tender breasts.
“What Pharmalten is creating goes way beyond some kind of female Viagra. It is fashioning a life long bond of love and support between couples. Do you have any idea how valuable that
is Miss Marks? Not just to the couples but to all of society. No more cheating spouses, no more kids raised by a single parent, less substance abuse, less mindless consumerism.”
Daisy responded with a slow nod, her heart doing something weird inside her chest, the soft, tickling flutter making it hard to breathe.
"So, you'll come with me?"
She hesitated, acutely aware that lingering biological processes continued to interfere with her ability to think.
“I promise, Miss Marks. Your safety is assured.” The dark glitter of his gaze contradicted his words. “Please…come with me.”
Chapter Two
Nodding, Daisy let Alt wrap a hand around her elbow and walk her to the elevators. The doors opened on a group coming up from the ground floor.
Alt curtly ordered the passengers who didn't disembark to catch the next car. They were all in lab coats with name tags and promptly obeyed with a servile bobbing of their heads.
When the doors closed, Alt punched the security pad a few times then selected the same floor—all the way at the top—as he had earlier that afternoon.
"No one can get on," he said, moving close to Daisy.
She wanted to retreat, but there was no room and her body resisted her brain’s orders. She could already feel the ache building between her legs again.
Was the medicine wearing off or was it her genuine reaction to this man? She couldn't ask him. She was already embarrassed beyond measure.
Gently taking both of her hands, he raised them and placed her palms on his unshaven cheeks.
“What is your name?” she asked, shaking again.
She hated not being in control and it was his medicine making her body betray her.
“Doctor Alt,” he answered, smirking once more.
Daisy blinked, felt moisture clinging to the sweep of her long lashes.
“Hardtman,” he relented with a rough clearing of his throat.
“Heart Man?” she repeated, not sure what he had said.
Was he joking?
“Hardt-man,” he said then smirked. “You can call me Hard if you prefer.”
“Heart?” she persisted, his accent smudging the pronunciation.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Miss Marks.”
Winking, he moved in closer and started to rub her hands over his bristly cheeks. She shook her head, the tickle in her chest moving down to stroke at her bladder. Her knees knocked.
“Your medicine isn’t working,” she whispered.
“Yes it is.”
She tried to withdraw her hands. She didn’t understand what he was doing by having her touch his cheeks. They were rough against her palms, the angular planes of his face uncompromising to her eyes.
Rough hewn, testosterone laden. The lips too big with their pronounced Cupid’s bow. It was the medicine attracting her both times in the elevator.
“I meant the cure,” she argued.
“So did I.”
The elevator stopped, the doors opening onto a dark gray room with nothing in it but another door, this one a dark mahogany.
Leaving the elevator with him, she stopped and pulled her phone out of her purse. She tapped furiously at the screen then flashed it at Alt, the timer application already counting down.
“You said ninety minutes.” Daisy shoved the phone back in her purse. “That’s all you’re getting.”
Opening the wood door, he extended his arm, inviting her in, whispering as she passed. “More than enough time, beautiful.”
Her knees went weak at the husky purr, but she forced herself to keep walking, her mind numbly taking in her surroundings.
The same dark gray covered the walls of the room they entered, but the imposing color was softened by a velvet couch and chairs, the blue-green hue reminding her of the ocean in a painting she liked by Botticelli.
Alt moved past her, his hand brushing her hip. “Please, sit down, Daisy.”
A natural stubborn streak flared inside her, but she couldn’t argue with her wobbly knees, so the stubborn streak lost.
Alt moved behind a bar made of the same dark mahogany as the door. She heard the seal break on a refrigerator and then he returned with three bottles of chilled water. He placed all three on the chrome and glass table next to where Daisy sat.
She eyed the bottles then eased her purse open, her fingertip purposefully touching the screen of her phone and waking the timer app.
Eighty minutes to go. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the least sexy thing she could.
All she could picture was Alt’s mouth and bristly cheeks.
She cracked a water bottle open and took a long drink. It was ice cold. Recapping the bottle, she pressed it along the side of her neck, her skin feverish wherever she touched.
“So talk,” she rasped after two minutes of silence had passed with her on the couch and him standing at a floor-to-ceiling window, no other building in sight, not even a hint of their roofs.
He rolled his shoulders then the muscles of his neck, the pop of tension being released audible to Daisy.
“No,” he said, strolling over to the chair across from her. Pausing, he stripped away the lab coat then sat down, his legs spread wide and his hands working the buttons on his silk dress shirt.
“What…what are you doing?”
“Demonstrating the power of what I’ve been building,” he said stripping the shirt away then easing into the chair and toeing off his shoes.
She shook her head, trying to clear the image of his muscular bare chest and thick arms from her mind.
Not happening, sugar tits, she mocked inside her head, pussy already squeezing. She tried to calculate how long it had taken from when she swallowed the cure to that moment on the couch.
The fifteen minutes were definitely over, she had no back up other than her own will power. Her breasts began to heave as her breathing went wonky once more.
“How does this work?” she asked, casting about for something the logical part of her mind could latch onto like a flotation device tossed to a drowning woman at sea.
“Proprietary,” he reminded, stripping off his socks and placing them in the shoes, the simple act filled with fluid grace that caressed her eyes.
Leaning back once more, he stared at her, blue gaze smoldering.
“What is your body telling you, Daisy.”
“Dr. Alt,” she started, panting and squirming, eyelids fluttering. She could feel the fresh flow of milk as it left her nipples, feel the breast tissue swelling, the pressure intense enough to make her eyes water.
“Hard,” he reminded her, spreading his legs a little more widely, the motion drawing the front panel of his silk dress slacks taut. “Call me Hard.”
“Can you feel it yet, Daisy? Are your breasts weeping to be touched?”
He didn’t need to ask, she was already leaking through to her shirt, the pale green blouse darkening beneath his hot gaze.
“And that sweet pussy,” he purred from five feet away. “Are your lips swelling…”
“Your labia,” he clarified. “I can see the effect on your mouth, so lusciously plump.”
His gaze traveled over her as his fingertips stroked at his knees.
“I can smell you from here,” he went on, each word tormenting her with embarrassment even as her body grew hotter with need.
A hard, steady pounding beat between her legs, the feeling translating to a visceral tug she could feel throughout her entire body.
“Certainly you’ve noticed the change in odors,” he said. “Even when you’re not lactating, a sweet creeping smell, a thinning of your mucosa leaving you constantly wet.”
She forced her head not to bob in agreement, but everything he had said was true.
Daisy pawed at her purse, checked the app, and released a dismayed cry.
Sixty minutes to go.
Her body vibrated with need, the tightest of the strings located between her thick labia, her clit dancing up and down.
“You
’re holding your breath, Daisy.”
She was. She didn’t want to smell the musky, eager scent of her pussy.
“Spread your legs for me,” he rasped, his ass sliding forward so that he was perched at the edge of his seat.
She shook her head, pressed her knees more tightly together and groaned. Her response made everything worse. Her hips lifted, then her hands clasped together to press at the juncture of her thighs.
This was insane! She knew everything that was going on, would remember it in the morning. But there was no question she was under the influence of strong chemicals.
“I need another capsule,” she begged. “I understand how much this is worth, the demonstration can end now.”
Alt’s heavy brows drew together in a scowl, but he stood and approached Daisy. He canted one hip in her direction then nodded at his pocket.
She lifted a shaking hand, eased the tips of her fingers past the pocket’s flap. She felt his hard body relax. Her fingers slid a little deeper, brushing against the hard cock shielded beneath another layer of fabric.
Alt cleared his throat, the sound rough. She looked up to see his head dipping backward, his neck stretched and the Adam’s apple jerk twice. His cock strained forward as she found the capsule.
She latched on to the pill and jerked her hand out of the pocket, the medicine dropping and hitting the floor.
Alt looked at her with a taunting gaze.
Daisy sank onto her knees on the marbled floor looking for the capsule. Gravity pulled at her breasts, making them heavier. She had the vague impression of being outside her body watching as Alt maneuvered around her to sit on the couch.
He ran his fingers down her spine then over the curve of her ass. Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear.
“I warned you about tempting me.”
Cream pulsed from her pussy. Her hips bucked, her breasts pushed downward as her arms went weak. Her nipples felt her blouse and the sopping wet pads press against the floor .
Daisy cried out.
Alt shifted one foot, his toe wiggling in a teasing manner as his hand moved a little lower, sliding against her perineum. When her eyes refocused, she saw he was using the toe to point at the capsule she sought.
Slowly, he brought his toe down, the thin organic layer holding the powder splitting open, the powder spilling onto the floor.
