Doctor Sexy

by Katy Connor

  Once he’d completely destroyed me with his kiss, he lowered his head to my chest and latched his lips over a nipple. Flashes of color, like lightning, blinded me.

  He suckled, tenderly and sweetly, then harder and not so sweetly. He nipped and grazed me with his teeth before soothing the sting with his hot tongue. And then he suckled all over again. And all the while, he held my other breast in his hand, caressing and massaging before tweaking and pinching, only to caress all over again.

  The strange mewling noises bouncing off the walls came from me.

  And when I gasped his name out loud, he flipped me around, cleared a space for my hands on the countertop, and bent me over.

  “Hold tight,” he commanded, and I clasped the edge of the granite surface, not knowing what to expect.

  So much for not seeing my ass. Bent over like I was, it was on prominent display.

  “Fucking gorgeous,” he muttered.

  I jumped when his hot tongue touched me at the base of my spine, and then jumped higher when he grazed his teeth right over the silk and lace and nipped my butt cheek.

  “Don’t let go, Bella.” He grazed and nipped my other cheek, then pushed the lace aside to expose one buttock to his marauding mouth. He planted hot, wet kisses over my skin, before exposing the other buttock, and repeating his actions.

  I was a trembling mess. My nipples hardened into peaks, my panties were soaked, and my skin covered in goose bumps.

  Jack reached around me to take a sharp knife from the wooden block on the counter.

  “W-what…?” Surely, he didn’t mean me harm?

  He tugged on my panties. Cold metal grazed my skin, and the rip of lace sounded in my ears.

  And then my panties just fell.

  I was too shocked to speak. Too electrified to try.

  He grabbed a buttock in each hand, squeezing, kneading, and generally driving me crazy with need as he nuzzled my butt cheeks.

  Liquid heat dripped down my inner thigh.

  He pushed my legs apart, opening me wider. His mouth trailed down, down until it latched onto my pussy lips.

  He kissed me there. God, did he kiss me.

  I was a bumbling mass of nerves, striving for one thing, and one thing only.

  Relief.

  It built inside me, a spiraling race to release. The more passionately he kissed, the higher I spiraled, until it was right there, close enough to reach.

  My mewling began again, only this time it didn’t stop. One more kiss, one lash of his finger across my clit, and I’d cross that line. I shook uncontrollably, my stomach tensing in preparation. My thighs locked. Hell, every muscle in my legs locked.

  And Jack pulled away.

  Just withdrew his mouth and his hands and his blistering assault and left me hanging on that precipice again.

  I swore out loud.

  And the damned doctor laughed.

  He swiped his finger over my clit, and I almost hit the roof.

  “Don’t move, Bella. Don’t take your fingers off the counter, don’t touch yourself, and don’t come.”

  Yeah, right. My hand was already between my legs, my finger buried between my slippery folds. “Sure,” I lied. “No problem.”

  Jack tsked, grabbed my arm, pulled my hand away and…and…tied the cord of my state-of-the-art Mixmaster around it. Then he secured the cord around my other wrist, tying them together.

  I was too surprised to stop him.

  He picked up my Mixmaster, complete with mixing bowls and beaters—the very mixer I’d planned to beat the batter of my cake with—and settled it down on the far end of the counter, stretching my arms out along with it.

  If I’d moved, jerked my arms in anyway, the mixer would tumble over and likely break. It might also just break my wrist as it tumbled.

  “Don’t move, Isabella,” Jack warned again, and I didn’t have to look at him to know his eyes were gleaming. “Don’t try and touch yourself, either. Don’t even think about it.”

  How could I? My arms were tied together.

  Frustrated tears filled my eyes. How could a man, so capable of dishing out pleasure, torture me so cruelly?

  A zipper rasped. Jack bumped into me, and his jeans hit the floor.

  He was as naked as I was.

  I couldn’t help it. Irritated and aroused, I turned to look and got a great big eyeful of a toned, slim ass and long, tanned legs walking out of the kitchen.

  Let me repeat that. Walking. Out. Of. The. Kitchen.

  He’d tied me up, like a trussed turkey, and left me there. Alone.

  Chapter Six

  “Jack.” My voice was sharper than the knife he’d used to slice through my panties. “You get your ass back in here and finish what you started.”

  Your very fine ass.

  A low, amused laugh rumbled back at me through the open door.

  “Listen here, asshole. Leave me like this and I will never forgive you. I’ll rain down curses on you, the likes of which you’ve never imagined.” My grandmamma was Sicilian. She’d taught me a fair share of curses. All of them in Italian. I yelled one at Jack, something about his balls turning gray, shriveling up, and falling off.

  “Curse me as much as you want, pretty one. Just don’t touch yourself.”

  Hah. I couldn’t have if I tried.

  I yelled out another prize curse, my temper bubbling up, ready to explode. Mind you, it wasn’t just my temper ready to explode.

  I opened my mouth to swear at him again, and the words froze on my lips.

  Jack strode into the kitchen, naked as the day he’d been born. Well, almost as naked. His cock was sheathed in a condom. That sneaky condom he’d had on him the whole time.

  But I’m digressing. His cock. Dear God, his cock.

  It stood proud. And firm. And big. So big. Waving around in front of his stomach with every step he took.

  I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t avert my gaze. Didn’t want to. Again, I had to slam my jaw shut to stop from drooling.

  I’d had that cock in my mouth. I’d licked it and sucked it and tried to swallow it whole.

  No wonder I’d had no luck getting it all in. Did I mention it was big?

  Nestled at the base was a light brown bed of curls, which gave way to a flat stomach and that incredible six pack.

  “Finished swearing at me?” Jack stood still, giving me as much time as I needed to drink my fill of him.

  If he’d stood there for a year, I wouldn’t have gotten enough. He was magnificent.

  “You’re an asshole.” The insult lacked fire. How could I retain my anger when perfection stood near me? When perfection was aroused…because of me.

  “For giving you such indescribable pleasure you almost came?”

  “For leaving me hanging. Again.”

  “You’ve loved every second of it.”

  “Hah. You wish.”

  He was right.

  He gestured at my legs. “You’re wetter than when I left.”

  “Get rid of the condom so I can suck your cock.” I’m not sure who was more surprised by my blatant demand, him or me. I hadn’t meant to voice it. Had only thought it. Well, obsessed about it, really.

  “You’ve already sucked my cock, Bella. Twice.”

  “Not enough.” I licked my lips, needing to taste that firm flesh again, lick off his pearly drops of come.

  His cock twitched, slapping against his stomach. “If you can remove the condom, you can suck my cock.”

  I yanked my arms against the cord, succeeding only in pulling it tighter. “Fuck you.”

  In my entire life, I’d never been so frustrated. Or excited. I’d lost every one of my inhibitions in the need to taste him. Touch him. Be tasted. Touched.

  “Actually…” He flashed his dimple. “I think I’ll fuck you.”

  And just like that, I was ready for him. “You think so?”

  “Oh yeah.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I’m going to take you from behind, gorgeous. Slide into you slowly
, and then fuck you until you scream my name.”

  “I thought you were going to fuck me against the wall.” That’s what he’d told Rebecca. That’s what I’d fantasized about the whole car trip home.

  “I would have.” Jack stepped behind me, making me twist my head to keep looking at him. “If you hadn’t charged into the kitchen so fast.” He ran his hand over my ass and trailed a finger over my engorged pussy.

  It took a good few seconds before I could stop panting long enough to speak. “And I suppose you’re going to throw open my front door before you fuck me? So anyone can walk in?”

  “You suppose, or you hope?” He dipped his finger inside me, and my pussy clenched around him.

  Hope. “I suppose,” I ground out and humped his damn finger. I was so crazed, I would have done anything to come.

  “Well, you supposed wrong. I’m too greedy to share. When you come this time, it’ll be for my eyes only.”

  “If I come,” I snapped, snarky and out of sorts. His finger wasn’t touching sides. Now that I’d gotten a gander of his incredible girth, nothing but his cock would satisfy me.

  “Oh, you’ll come,” he promised. “When I’m ready for you to. And it’ll all happen with you tied up in your kitchen, leaving me in control of your pleasure.”

  “My torture, more like it.”

  “Isn’t it all the same thing?”

  “See, there you go again. All talk and no action.”

  “You want me to torture you?”

  “I want you to fuck me, or give me your cock to suck, and all you’re doing is talking.”

  He slid his finger out of me, and I cried out in disappointment.

  “Hush, Bella.” His soothing tone worked, because I instantly settled. Or maybe I settled because he’d flattened the front of his thighs to the back of mine and fitted his groin to my ass, pressing his erection in the crease between my cheeks.

  Then he wrapped an arm around my waist, and his hand found my pussy. He slipped his fingers over my clit, dragged them through my soaked folds, slipped two inside me, and dragged them out again. He excited every inch of me. My pulse thumped so hard my pelvis jerked every time my heart beat.

  I tried to reach back, grab his cock, position him so I could push back and envelop him whole. But my damned hands were tied, and I was helpless against his onslaught.

  “Mama was right,” I grouched. “I should never let strangers into my apartment.”

  He chuckled. “You’ve had my cock in your mouth. And your finger in my ass. I’m hardly a stranger.”

  “On your ass, not in.”

  “Semantics.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “Not the most patient lover I’ve ever had.”

  “Not the most rewarding lover I’ve ever had.”

  “I think your four orgasms earlier in the evening might contradict that statement.” He rocked his hips, twisted them a little, and then rocked again.

  Sensation blasted through me. He’d repositioned his cock, so it now lay between my legs, pressing against my pussy. And when he rocked those hips again, it slipped easily over my engorged lips and drenched folds.

  “I want a fifth.” Correction, I needed a fifth.

  He continued to tease me, sliding his cock along the length of my sensitized lips, and I broadened my stance to give him freer access.

  “You’ll get it,” he promised.

  “Now.”

  He stroked my clit as he thrust lazily against me. His muscled thighs bumped against mine.

  Yeah, I complained, needing more, but the honest truth was, a kind of elation descended, leaving me in a cloud of maddening delight. I sighed and flattened my torso over the countertop. I couldn’t do anything with my hands, and my arms were beginning to ache, stretched across the granite as they were. This relieved the pressure a little. It also shoved my ass higher in the air, changing the position of Jack’s thrusts.

  The tip of his cock hit the entrance to my pussy, and my breath caught as Jack stilled.

  It was all up to him. He could pull back, continuing to deny me. Or push forward and grant every wish I’d ever made.

  He did neither. He rotated his hips, not withdrawing and not thrusting. He simply tortured my slit with the promise of what could be.

  The wait was too much, the agony too harsh.

  I begged. Shamelessly pleaded with Jack to drive his cock inside me. Over and over again.

  And instantly regretted it when he did.

  It’s one thing feasting one’s eyes on a massive cock, imagining how it would feel buried inside. It’s another altogether getting a massive cock to fit.

  Jack was huge. Bigger than anyone I’d ever slept with. Or any toy I’d ever played with. He was barely halfway in, and I felt stretched to capacity. There was no chance, ever, he’d fit the rest of the way.

  My startled yelp stopped Jack mid-thrust.

  He leaned over me, pressed a tender kiss to my spine. Then another, and another.

  “You’ve got this, Bella. You can take me.”

  I wanted to take him. God knew I did. But apparently my pussy had other ideas.

  He stroked my clit.

  Did I mention I was growing addicted to the way he touched me there? To the soft promise of his caress? And the firmer indication of pleasures to come.

  I breathed out in enchantment, and my body relaxed.

  He stroked some more, and I swear, he dipped his finger a little lower, massaging the place where his body and mine met: my stretched lips and his stiff cock. For long moments, all he did was stroke—my clit, my pussy, his cock.

  My muscles melted, and along with them, my resistance.

  It wasn’t long before Jack was thrusting lazily into me again. Slowly, each thrust driving him a little deeper inside me.

  I felt the stretch. And I felt the give.

  The more he stroked, the more easily he slid inside me.

  And the more incredible it felt.

  And then he was in all the way. I’d taken every inch of him—and I was stuffed to capacity. Still, he stroked my clit. But now, he stroked into me from behind, too, withdrawing only long enough to push back in to the hilt.

  I forgot to inhale. Forgot to blink. I simply rode the glory of his momentum. Slow, gentle, rhythmic.

  Jack moaned. A harsh sound that filled the room and reverberated through my belly.

  The tender strokes weren’t enough, the pressure inadequate. I gasped in a massive lungful of air and reared back to meet Jack’s cock.

  He needed no further invitation.

  The pace changed. Jack drove into me, filling me with every solid inch of his erection. He gave me no time to adapt before he hauled back and drove in again.

  The shock of his sudden onslaught had my nipples punching into painful peaks and my nails scratching at the granite.

  Jack fucked me. Full on, straight up, fucked me. He bore down relentlessly, filling every inch, only to withdraw, then do it again. And again.

  I bucked against him, driving back to meet his pounding, impaling myself on his cock, repeatedly.

  He grabbed my hips, lifting me, shifting the angle, and then he fucked me some more. Lightning struck behind my eyelids again, rainbows of color blinding me to anything but the pleasure.

  He touched something inside me. Nope, I’m not talking figuratively now. He hit my sweet spot with every lunge, making me almost crazy with desire.

  And through it all, he stroked my clit.

  It was an all-out assault on my senses. I didn’t stand a chance. Hadn’t from the second I’d spied him across Bec’s living room.

  This time when the spiral to orgasm began, Jack didn’t stop. I don’t think he could have. He was as lost in the moment as I was. The gratification was overwhelming, the onslaught too intense to avoid. He’d teased me, and he’d deprived himself for too long. There was no more denial.

  My climax hit. And God help me, it was as powerful as Jack had promised.

  I reeled out of control
, my satisfaction 100 percent in his hands.

  And boy, did he deliver. I came. I came, and I came, and I came, convulsing around his plunging cock, trapping it, squeezing it so tight I thought I’d never let go. Then letting go as another convulsion hit, and another.

  And when I called his name—hell, screamed it at the top of my lungs—Jack gave in, too. Finally, he let go.

  And I swear, as he pulsed violently inside me, holding me tight, I came even harder.

  That orgasm destroyed me, leaving me shattered in pieces in my kitchen. Thank God for the counter and Jack’s solid arm, because without them, I’d have crumbled to the floor.

  I didn’t know sex could be like that. Had never imagined.

  And apparently Jack hadn’t, either. When the rhythmic beating of his cock slowed to an irregular shudder, he too seemed to collapse, his torso landing on mine, his cheek resting on my shoulder.

  “Bella…” Long seconds passed with only the sound of his harsh gasps before he said, “Never knew… God.”

  And then there was nothing but our ragged breaths and the scent of our spent passion for a very, very long time.

  Chapter Seven

  As it turned out, I’d been right when I told Jack I wouldn’t sleep with him. He might have spent the night, but neither of us managed to get a nap in. We made love several more times, in the comfort—and privacy—of my bed. Yes, Jack may only have had the one condom, but I had a boxful in my bedside drawer.

  Don’t judge. I’m single and I like to think I’m responsible.

  Being with Hot Dr. Scott was the most erotic experience of my life. When we weren’t screwing like two horny teens, we talked and laughed and got to know each other a little. And if that haunted look of his caught me off guard once or twice, Jack pretended it wasn’t there, and I pretended not to notice. I wanted to ask about it, but there was no doubt Jack wasn’t interested in speaking.

  Early on Monday morning, he kissed me one last time and left without asking for my number or suggesting he might see me again—making it clear our hookup was nothing more than a single night of extraordinary passion.

  That’s not to say I didn’t relive every minute numerous times during the week. I did. About a million times or so.