As he moved in closer to my lady bits, my heart started to pound. The anticipation of him touching me, even in a clinical way, was enough to send a rush of need through me.
I licked my lips and tried hard not to moan.
Oh, God.
Everything inside of me was pulsing with need.
My nipples were pebbled, and I was fairly sure that my clit looked like a big red target that screamed ‘touch me!’
And let’s not forget the juices that I could now feel sliding down the crack of my ass.
Yes, I was a slut.
A huge, super slut, with a super slutty vagina. Slutty McSluttyone—that was me.
His hand paused at the part of my thigh and groin where the two met, and he ran his thumb over where my panties would normally reside. You know, if I were wearing any, that was.
All he touched now was the sensitive skin that used to drive me wild—and he knew it.
What was he doing to me?
There was no way he didn’t know what he was doing to me. None.
His hand moved again, parting my folds with both thumbs, and I clenched my eyes and teeth shut to stop the moan from leaving my mouth.
I ground my teeth so hard that I heard them crack in protest.
Then I felt those strong shoulders of his brush against the inside of my thighs, reminding me how wide they were. How they used to feel when he would shove my legs open with them before going down on me.
Oh, God.
And that was when I opened my legs wider. Because I didn’t want him touching me. Yes, that was it.
I was also Slutty Liar McSluttyone.
After he parted my sex with his thumbs, he moved his hand so that one hand was holding my pussy open at the top of my sex, the heel of his hand resting just at the top of my pubic bone, while the other went in for the kill.
At first, I didn’t think he was going to do anything but insert his finger.
But when he swept his thumb down, and I felt wetness go with it, I knew he was bringing attention to the fact that I was dripping wet without actually saying a word.
I licked my lips, staying silent.
Which caused him to chuckle low in his throat.
Still, I didn’t say anything.
Mainly because at this point I couldn’t. I’d been holding my breath, closing my eyes, and praying that I wouldn’t spontaneously orgasm and give him an even bigger head.
I should’ve known that I’d embarrass myself. Should’ve. Known.
Why?
Because Reed had always been the one. The one to make me realize that I have zero control when it comes to him.
What would’ve made me angry if someone else had done it? It made me happy when it came to Reed.
What made me want to cry? Yeah, Reed made me laugh.
So, something as easy as sweeping his finger across my entrance? Barely grazing my clit?
Yeah, that should’ve been nothing.
Yet, I still came.
It’d been a baby orgasm. Barely a blip of the radar.
But he knew my tells, just like I knew his.
The goose bumps on the back of my thighs, the way my breathing hitched, paired with the way my head rocked from side to side were enough of an indication.
And he didn’t miss a single thing.
But he didn’t say anything, and I didn’t either.
Which put me into a false sense of complacency.
I laid back on the table, stared at the white ceiling with the panels that looked like they needed to be given a good power wash with years’ worth of use in them, and waited for him to get down to it.
He inserted a finger…and that’s when I realized that he wasn’t wearing gloves.
Wasn’t. Wearing. Gloves.
Oh, fuck.
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.
No, no, no.
“G-gloves,” I croaked.
He cursed.
But did he remove his hand?
Hell no.
He left his finger buried deep inside of me.
Then he did the thing that they do that checks your organs from the top—actually somewhat doing his job for once.
“Everything feels good there, in case you’re wondering,” he murmured, pressing and palpitating whatever the hell it was that he was trying to locate.
Our eyes met then, and I realized that resistance was futile.
My knees opened, inviting him to do what he would.
He did.
He dropped his face. And licked me.
Licked my clit.
It was just one sweep of his tongue, but it was enough.
It was enough.
God, was it enough.
I clenched, my pussy pulsed and squeezed. Then I came.
Hard.
This wasn’t a baby orgasm. No, this one was everything.
Too many years of pent up, no-orgasm-having need burst out of my vagina like a rocket.
I fucking soaked his hand with my release, but everything inside of me felt so damn good that I didn’t once think about embarrassment. Nor did I care where we were, or that Reed was supposed to be my god-forsaken doctor.
Nope, all I cared about was riding his fucking finger, and getting the most out of my orgasm that I could.
He must’ve realized this, too, because he shoved another thick finger—when did they get so thick??—into me and scissored them.
Oh, fuck.
“Fuck,” Reed growled.
I concurred.
In fact, I probably would’ve said that aloud had the door not opened right then.
There was a quick knock on the door—after the door was opened—and a nurse poked her head in. "Dr. Hail?"
Reed's fingers paused their movement inside of me...almost.
He continued to curl his fingers and stroke that hidden spot inside of me. The spot only he had been able to find.
"Ms. Fisher, I know we've discussed before about you opening a patient's door while I'm doing their exams. For the patient's privacy, you should either enter at the beginning of the exam, or wait until I've completed it. Are we clear? I will not be repeating myself."
"Yes, sir," Ms. Fisher apologized. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry doesn't give the patient's dignity back," Reed snapped.
I bit my lip when Reed twirled his finger, doing something inside of me that I’d never felt before.
"Jesus," I hissed, unable to help myself.
My hips were also being held down by Reed's hand, but had he not been holding them down, they would've jerked up with that last movement.
"I...I was just trying to see what size gloves you wanted me to order for you this time,” she whispered. "Do you want me to come back?"
Reed's eyes held mine for a long second, and then he looked down at where his gloveless fingers were still inserted in my pussy.
"Of course, I want you to come back. After I show Ms. Shaw out of the exam room. Now go!"
I'd have bit my lip at his anger if it'd been directed at me. The nurse? Yeah, she squeaked and closed the door hurriedly.
"You've done this before?" I gasped, unable to help myself.
His eyes came up to meet mine.
"No,” his eyes went predatory. "First time."
"What about the exam?" I cleared my throat.
"We're doing it."
I would've snorted, but his fingers came out of me and went back inside. This time three fingers wide instead of two.
My hips really did come off the table that time.
We'd stopped having a medical exam, and moved into a different kind of exam ten minutes ago when he’d walked in the door. Yet, neither one of us wanted to admit it.
I, of course, was physically incapable of it, but he might've still had his wits about him.
However, my eyes were too unfocused to know for sure.
Then he touched my clit, and I was lost.
> I would've screamed, did scream, but his hand muffled it—making it sound more like a muted moan that likely wasn't heard from the other side of the flimsy door.
"We need to stop," I mewled, worrying now. "This isn't right."
He laughed. That deep sexy laugh that had always gotten the better of me.
The first time I'd had sex not in the privacy of mine or Reed's bedroom, he'd given me that same laugh. The laugh that made me tingle all over while teasingly mocking me at the same time.
The last time he'd laughed at me like that, he'd had me up against a wall outside of his brother's graduation party. He'd wanted to do it in a closet with seventy of our closest family and friends on the other side. And I'd done it after a little persuasion on his part.
I'd grown up since then, though. I was a different person. I was a stronger person.
Right?
Wrong.
I'd dreamed of Reed since our breakup. I'd imagined him in every way possible since then. It was sick, really.
He'd broken up with me. I should've moved on. Should've found a way to be happy without him.
But there was a funny thing about love.
It didn't give you the choice on who you loved, or how much love you could give them. Seems that Reed got all of my love. I tried. I really tried to move on from the debilitating pain, yet here I lay, as if not a single heartbreaking day had gone by.
Too many years after he broke up with me, and I still couldn’t tell him no.
Because one more day with Reed, even though I knew there'd never be anything else with him, was better than no Reed at all.
I needed him like I needed to breathe. Like I craved Cadbury Easter eggs during Christmas time, and frozen Snicker bars in the dead of winter.
I'd give up bread to be with him.
"Please!"
The fevered whisper was all he needed.
He was unzipping his pants and taking his cock out of the hole in his boxers and pants seconds later.
His cock was the same. Big, thick, and beautiful. He’d always been well-endowed, and time hadn’t changed that.
I bit my lip, watching him watch me, and moaned in need as I squirmed on the table.
He didn't waste time. He didn't act like this was all right.
We both knew it wasn't.
It wasn't all right, and never would be.
But we were doing it.
He pushed his cock into me. No build up. No pussy footing around. He forced himself into me, the way we both knew I liked it, and made me take him. Forced me.
He was so big. He always had been.
God, I loved that burning stretch. I'd missed it, and hadn't realized how much until just that moment.
"Fuck."
We’d both said the words.
We both felt them, too.
I circled my hips, hoping to urge him on, but he held my hips with both hands pressing down and forced me to stay still.
“Trying not to come,” he told me.
I wasn’t.
I pulsed my pussy, squeezing his member, hoping to urge him on.
It only backfired, though.
See, here’s the thing.
I’d always, always been great at orgasming when it came to Reed. There’d never been one time that I could think of that I hadn’t come.
Yet, coming as many times as I had today, and still coming?
That was unheard of, even for Reed.
So, when I came a third time, this time with nothing but his cock stretching me, and my pussy squeezing him, it surprised us both.
I was momentarily stunned.
He couldn’t hold back.
He started to roughly take me, so hard and fast that I couldn’t catch up.
One orgasm went into another, and I was begging him for something, unsure what it was.
“I need…”
He knew exactly what I needed.
One second I was on my back, my feet in the stirrups, and the next I was on my belly and yanked down.
I was short. Even with the stool at the bottom of the table pulled out, I barely touched.
And he took advantage of that—of my vulnerability.
He fucked me hard, fast, and without restraint.
His cock filled me so full that I wasn’t able to do anything but take him.
His fisted hand went to the table by my head, and I turned to study it.
My entire body jolted with each of his thrusts, and they felt so good that I was nearly screaming with the intensity of my impending orgasm.
I could feel it building. Could feel the wave about to roll over me.
Which was why I latched onto his wrist with my teeth to distract myself, and offer myself a buffer to the wail that I knew was about to leave my lips.
He didn’t so much as flinch.
He’d put it there on purpose, of course.
We’d done this very same thing hundreds of times over the course of our relationship.
When you were a teenager, trying to sneak your boyfriend into your room so you could do it, you had to come up with ideas to keep quiet.
That’s why, almost in the very spot that I was locked onto his wrist, there was a scar of teeth prints from the many times we’d hidden what we were doing.
He’d told me to ‘bite down’ to keep quiet, and being quiet wasn’t my strong suit.
I’d done it, and then bitten him so hard that I’d broken his skin when he’d shoved his massive cock into me. It’d healed, eventually, but in its place left a scar that would forever remind him of our time together.
Of our first time together.
But I didn’t break his skin this time.
I knew how hard to bite, and knew that I wouldn’t hurt him. As did he.
And when I felt his thumb brush over my asshole, that was all I needed.
The orgasm that took me over would’ve swept me off my feet had I been using them. I was thankful for the table that was holding me up.
Knowing he’d taken care of me, he lifted one of my legs, and slowed way down.
So slow, in fact, that I realized he was trying to draw this out. Make it last longer.
But then a knock sounded at the door. “Dr. Hail, your next patient is in room 4 and she thinks she’s having contractions.”
Reed paused halfway inside of me. “Set her up on the monitors. I’ll be through in a few moments.”
Then he slammed back inside of me, completely lifting me up off the table.
My mouth opened in surprise.
And then he continued to slam inside.
Our hips met. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap.
He needed four more strokes before he came.
Inside of me.
We both breathed heavily after he was through, and it took him at least two minutes to pull out of me.
The minute he was gone, so was the moment.
He was back to professional.
“Don’t think we can get that Pap smear done,” he muttered to himself. “You’ll have to come back.”
I snorted.
I wasn’t coming back. No way, no how.
“Okay,” I lied, standing up.
The minute my feet were on the ground, I felt him leaking out of me.
His eyes went down when mine did, and I watched as his release slipped down the inside of my thigh.
I caught it with my hand, and tried to scoop up the most that I could.
When my eyes met his once again, they were blazing.
Which had to be the reason I brought that come up to my mouth and licked it.
His mouth parted.
Another knock at the door.
“Sir, she’s having contractions three minutes apart, and she’s dilated to a five.”
“Send her to the hospital,” Reed barked through the door. “I’ll get over there now.”
And that’s when the tears started to fall.
But did Re
ed do anything? No.
Did he react in any way? Hell no.
He just tucked his dick into his pants, drew the curtain over the door that he’d never shut to begin with, and left the room. Leaving me standing there, naked, with a handful of his come.
It really couldn’t feel worse…could it?
***
An hour later, I was in my superior’s office.
I closed my eyes and counted to ten.
“I need leave…”
When Coralee, my supervisor, didn’t say anything for a few moments, I finally looked at her.
“Why are you here?”
I looked away.
“Why are you asking?”
“Krisney, look at me.”
I didn’t want to.
But it was ingrained in me to pay attention to my superiors, so I did just that despite not wanting to.
“You literally begged me to come here because you wanted to get away from them…this was only for a temporary basis, anyway, until the position could be filled…why don’t you do what you’ve always wanted to do?”
I looked away.
“I don’t…” I looked at my hands. “I don’t have any reason not to anymore, do I?”
She shook her head.
“Then go. Live your life. Your parents can’t ruin it anymore, can they?”
“No.”
They couldn’t.
They were dead.
And I was happy…wasn’t I?
Chapter 5
Who needs a boyfriend when your bank account goes down every day?
-Text from Krisney to Hennessy
Krisney
Three months ago
“I don’t understand,” the realtor, Madeline, said. “You have a house.”
I gritted my teeth to keep the angry comment from spewing out.
Instead, I carefully placed my hands in my lap and looked at her.
“I know that my parents had a house,” I said carefully. “And I don’t want to live there. I want to sell it. Then I want to move into that house.”
The realtor looked at the house that was behind her, a look of utter horror on her face.
Madeline was the one and only realtor in the area who consistently made it through the years. She was good at her job, smart, intelligent, and genuinely a pretty good realtor.
As a person, though…well, let’s just say that she left a lot to be desired.
She also had been a good friend of my mother's and that should be understanding enough right there.
The Hail You Say (Hail Raisers Book 5) Page 4
