“The best parts were spared.” He reaches up and massages both of my breasts. I don't know how to react so I just sort of choke.
“You don’t think I’m disgusting?” I ask, my voice small, insecure.
“What do you think?” He glances down at his indomitable erection.
I don’t know what to say or think. I’m in uncharted waters and so badly want to take the plunge.
With a deep, steely breath, I unbutton my skinny jeans and drop them to the floor, leaving just the black, lacy underwear on my body.
“I want the X-rated version.” Ty slips a finger into my underwear.
“Do the honors then.” I bravely answer.
His handsome face lights up. He looks like a kid in a candy store. “I have been waiting for this for so long. Too long.” Ty reaches around my back, and, with a swift flick, unhooks my bra. I pull it off and send it to the floor with the rest of our clothes.
“Please, tell me you’re on the pill. Please, please, please.” He hooks his fingers into the strings of my bikini underwear.
“Yes, I’m on the pill,” I tell him what he is so desperate to hear.
“Thank God.” He looks to the sky. “Are you incredibly fond of these?” He snaps the elastic.
“I like them.”
“But not love?”
I shrug, and he rips.
“Oh!” I jump.
“Bye.” He drops the shredded panties.
“Bye.” I glance down at them.
“Hello.” Ty clutches my face and kisses me, no warning, no choice. I melt against him, letting the heat of his bare skin warm my own. I try to let go, try to forget all my insecurities and just get lost in Ty.
“I think you’re beautiful.” He sucks on my bottom lip and eats away at my mouth. “And what I think is the only thing that matters.” I don’t respond, just continue to kiss him back. If I think too much, I’ll get lost in my own head. And that’s one thing I don’t want to do. I just want to be with Ty. I want to lose myself in him, not my hang-ups.
“Lie on the bed.” He gestures with his head. I start to walk backwards, but he doesn’t follow.
“Aren’t you coming?”
He smirks deviously. “Many times. But I want to look at you first. I want to watch you.”
My cheeks heat.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I love the way you walk. I love all your curves. I love to watch you.”
“Watching me fully clothed is much different than watching me completely naked.”
“I know.” Ty’s smile is blinding. “Naked is so much better.”
My face falls. How can that possibly be?
“Simone, I don’t care about the scars. They don’t bother me one bit,” he asserts. “And if I don’t get inside you in the next five minutes, I’m going to have a very embarrassing moment in the middle of the room, cause I’m about to come right where I’m standing.” He fists his cock.
I’m actually flattered. I don’t know where the feeling comes from, maybe it’s the pain inflicted on Ty’s face as he looks at me. Maybe the need is so apparent I just can’t deny it.
Wherever it blossoms from, it gives me a small boost of confidence. I saunter over to the bed, hoping I give Ty the show he’s after.
I lie down, take a deep breath, and spread my legs. If this was my past life, insecurity would be nonexistent, but I’m living in a whole new universe now, and I’m only slowly starting to explore it.
Ty follows behind me mere seconds later, running his hand down the inside of my thigh, then up over my torso. His eyes burn with lust as he licks his bottom lip. I never thought a man would desire me like this again. It’s surreal.
“I don’t know where to kiss you first.” He scans over my naked form.
“Wherever you want,” I encourage him.
“That’s the problem. I want to kiss you everywhere all at once. Tasting you is all I’ve thought about for months.”
“I think you know the only place you can get a true taste.” Holy hell, did I really just say that? What has come over me?
Ty, naked, and a whole host of hormones, that’s what.
His eyes smolder as he accepts my invitation. I hope I survive this.
I try to steady my breathing as he presses a hot kiss on the inside of my thigh. Dangerously close to the sweet spot between my legs. He inhales and I petrify. I know he can smell it, my arousal. It’s as potent as a spritz of perfume in the air.
Sliding his lips over maddeningly slow, he finally reaches the folds of my pussy. My aching pussy. My body knows ecstasy is so close…it’s fiending for the release the same way a junkie searches for his next high.
“Ty, please,” I find myself begging for his mouth. Who have I become?
A second later, he puts me out of my misery, burying his face right between my legs. My back bows as the feel of his tongue and the suction of his mouth electrocutes me. A high-pitched sound I’ve never made before escapes my lips as Ty begins to indulge. He’s so deliberate and unhurried, alternating between hard strokes and soft caresses, licking up the taste he said he’s been dreaming about for months.
I croon as the sensations build like cinder blocks, one on top of the other until a skyscraper is erected. Threading my fingers through his soft, copper hair, I trap his head between my thighs, moaning and jerking as he relentlessly pushes me upward and onward.
Is this really happening?
I don’t have time to decide if it’s a dream or not, because he sinks a finger inside me, flipping a switch. The added pressure is hellish and heavenly. It’s careening me closer to the point of no return, but I’m not ready to cross the line yet. He feels too good, and I’m astoundingly too damn comfortable in his arms. Emotions stir like the sea in a violent storm as I edge closer and closer. A familiar throb starts at my knees and works its way up to my lower abdomen.
I’m a mouse trapped in a box as the orgasm cracks like lightening.
“Oh, fuck!” I yank on Ty’s hair. I’m so close I’m actually scared. My insecurities flood, but I build a wall. I want this. I want to feel this. I have to feel this. And as Ty circles his tongue around my throbbing clit and works his finger faster, I finally allow myself to let go.
I scream as I come, and it’s as cathartic as it is compromising to my soul. So many boundaries crossed in such a short amount of time.
Ty moans and sucks on my swollen clit as I shower his face with cum. I pant uncontrollably as the orgasm drains all the energy from my body. I’m a shell of a person by the time he’s done with me. The world is hazy and so are my thoughts, and my emotions.
Please, oh, please, don’t come to your senses and regret this, Ty.
CHAPTER 10
Ty
Simone tastes even better than I fantasized about. Her sweetness is like a fresh strawberry plucked by the gods. I’m hooked for life. A slave shackled in irons completely loyal to her.
I wipe my mouth, heaving like an animal. The need I feel for her is completely out of control. I’m a savage starving for blood.
I want my woman. And I want her right goddamn now. Rising to my knees, I stare down at Simone. She’s limp on the mattress, her eyes are glassy, and her pussy is glistening with my saliva and her cum.
Nothing is hotter, not even the Sahara Desert.
“I need to be inside you.” I hook my hands under her knees and drag her down to me.
“I’m not stopping you. Make me come again.” It’s almost a desperate plea.
I was raised to be a gentleman, to be cordial and polite, and to conduct myself a certain way. I have always abided by those parameters, but being with Simone, in the raw, and only the two of us, I’m a completely different person. She brings out an animalistic side of me. A reckless abandonment reserved just for her.
I want to be rough. I want to fuck hard and come like a beast, but this is our first time being together, and it took a hell of a lot to get to this point. So, I’m going to use some finesse. I want her to feel my love as mu
ch as she feels my desire.
I hate that there is still so much insecurity in her gorgeous, brown eyes. Even after what we just shared, she still thinks her scars are bigger than her. I bet she’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For me to suddenly change my mind and leave her the way that asshole did. It won’t happen. I don’t see Simone’s scars. Yes, they’re severe and cover much of her upper body, but they don’t turn me off; if anything, they make me love her more. This woman is so much more than she thinks. She nearly gave her life for the noblest of causes. She’s a hero. She’s my hero. And a hero deserves to be loved with a level of devotion that couldn’t be broken by even a crate of dynamite. That’s how I want to love Simone. I just hope she lets me.
I lean forward, supporting myself on my forearms so I can get closer to her, so I can kiss her fulfillment and taste her pleasure as I sink inside her.
She spreads her legs wider, and I nearly lose my mind.
Need, want, desire, and restlessness all clash together as the head of my cock penetrates the slick, warm crease of her pussy.
It’s fucking nirvana.
I stroke her hairline with my thumbs, keeping my eyes plastered to hers. I slide in slowly, watching her face with every forward inch. Her eyelids flutter, her lips part, and her breathing picks up as I bury my cock all the way inside her body.
She’s so tight. So fucking tight, and wet, and warm. Euphoric.
“Look at me. Don’t close your eyes.” I circle my hips, the connection between us is as electrifying as a current.
Her cheeks turn pink as she succumbs to me. I’m pushing her boundaries, but what she doesn’t know is this is just the beginning. I am going to build her confidence up. I’m going to make her the woman she once was. And I’m going to love that woman for the rest of my life. This is my vow. My contract to her.
“Ty,” she whimpers, undulating beneath me. The muscles of her pussy tightening, causing my cock to throb.
“You like me inside you?” I push up and thrust in deep. She tenses severely.
“Yes.” Her response is clipped, the skin around her eyes creased and her lips wet.
“I love being inside you.” I continue to slide in and out, my pelvis stiff from the impending pressure of my orgasm. “Will you come for me again? Will you let go all over my cock?”
“Kiss me and I will.” She gasps, her muscles tightening.
I drop down and fuse my lips with hers. We kiss as hard as we make love. With an urgency to survive. I pump harder, faster, our tongues tangling and dueling as we both race to the edge. Simone wraps her legs around my waist, and the shift allows me deeper. My tailbone tingles as her pussy strangles me alive.
Her moans grow in leaps and bounds as she grinds her hips against me. It’s like she can’t get enough.
“Make me come,” she erupts between kisses. “Ty, make me come.”
I have no problem with that. We continue our descent into the black abyss. I thrust harder and faster, scraping my pelvis against her clit whenever I can amongst the erratic motions.
Then, I suddenly feel it. The rush of heat followed by a string of strangled sounds.
Her climax is a rushing river sweeping me away. The sensations forcing me to blow like a power grid. It’s an entire body blackout as I come inside her. Come hard and fast and brazenly. The same way I wanted to do the first night I met her.
When the room stops shaking, I collapse onto Simone. I’m spent. I’m destroyed and utterly owned. She owns me, plain as day. One thrilling sexual encounter and I’m completely addicted to her. I knew it was going to happen. I was becoming dependent the more and more time I spent with her. Achieving my greatest desire was just the final blow.
“Ty,” she hums, ravaged.
“Mmm?” I kiss her collarbone. It’s about all I’m capable of at the moment.
Simone wraps her arms around my neck lazily, and I kiss my way down her shoulder. She freezes as I run my lips over her scars.
“Ty.” Her voice is a hoarse whisper. It almost sounds like it evaporates.
I lift my head to look at her and find her eyes are filled with water.
“Why are you upset?”
“I think I’m just conflicted. I’ve been alone for so long, and I’m still so afraid. And I think I’m falling in love with you,” she whispers. It’s strained, and clearly a secret challenging to share.
“Simone.” I push her hair away from her face with both hands, making sure to keep her trapped beneath me. “I am here to stay. I don’t care about your scars,” I reiterate. “I only care about you. This isn’t some stupid infatuation or cat and mouse game. You are my beginning, and I want to be your end. The end of all your insecurities and loneliness and fears. This is the real deal. You are the real deal to me.” I sit up and drag Simone with me. “I don’t want there to be a fucking thing between us. Not here” —I touch her temple— “Or here,” —I drag my fingertip down the center of her bare body, stopping to tap her heart before continuing my descent until I reach the apex of her thighs and caress her sensitive clit. “Or here.” She sighs submissively. I think I’m making some headway. “Say it. You’re my beginning, and I’m your end.”
She repeats the mantra while I continue to stroke her. Her tone is husky. “I’m your beginning, and you’re my end.”
The dominance I feel as she speaks the words is indescribable. In this moment, I’m invincible.
“I promise” —I sink a finger inside her, warming her body up for round two— “I’ll be the man who leaves a mark, not a scar.”
Simone’s eyes widen, becoming completely alert.
“I’m going to hold you to that, Ty Winters.” She sighs as I curl my finger, adding delectable pressure.
“I expect to the highest standards, Simone Travers.”
I touch my lips to hers, and we embark on a whole new journey together.
My beginning and her end.
* * *
The End
DOCTOR DREAMY
L.J. Shen
SYNOPSIS
His patients call him Doctor Dreamy, but I call him Doctor Douchebag.
I’d rather not call him at all, but I have to acknowledge him somehow. It’s a part of the deal. After all—he is my boss.
Rhys Matthews is like his sports car. Beyond stunning…and the most dangerous ride you’ll ever take.
Emotionally detached, sensitive as a stone, and coldhearted would be flattering ways to describe him.
He is lucky to be 6'4" of pure male dominance, clad in a suit that looks like it was sewn on him. He is also the proud owner of a lethal tongue that’s good for more than a witty exchange.
Dr. Douchebag doesn’t think that I’m a match for him. Why should he? I’m only his fresh-out-of-college, daydreaming receptionist.
He is about to find out that man and woman were born equal.
Not only at work, but also in bed.
CHAPTER 1
First Day of Employment
“Run,” the middle-aged woman leans toward me from across the shiny reception desk, whisper-shouting. “You’re too young. Too lively. Too perky. He is going to crush you, and make a spectacle doing so. Escape while you still can.”
I settle back in my chair and lace my fingers together, my eyes as wide as two, full moons. I blink away the darkness she is projecting, and wonder if Melinda Evans, whom I’m officially replacing today, is mentally deranged. She looks normal in her lime-hued cardigan and perfect Twiggy do. Then again, Jeffrey Dahmer looked like an okay champ, too.
“Melinda, do you need a moment? Should I get you some tea? Coffee?” Xanax? I leave out, feeling the wheels of my chair squeaking as I very slowly put some distance between us and slide away from her.
“Stay away from Dr. Matthews,” her lower lip quivers as she looks around the tidy and colorful reception area. “He’s the devil in a very good disguise.”
“Pediatrician Matthews?” I clarify, arching a doubtful brow. “The one who left a pink Post-It n
ote on your monitor asking if his Bugs Bunny tie is back from dry-cleaning?”
“One and the same,” Melinda nods vehemently, gathering her belongings and shoving them into her Kate Spade bag with urgency. It’s my first day at the Matthews and Lerer Pediatric Clinic in my hometown of Providence, Long Island. I landed here two days ago, back from college on the West Coast. I haven’t had time to unpack, but Mom—who works in a recruitment agency—dumped this temp work on me and I signed the six-month contract without even reading the fine print. With the amount of student debt I’m carrying on my shoulders, being picky is a luxury I can’t afford. And a pediatrician clinic seemed like a really good idea. I love kids. I love babies. I love helping, in general, no matter whom it is. How hard can it be?
“I appreciate your concern,” I offer a megawatt smile to Melinda, who taught me how to operate the switchboard, greet patients, and work the photocopier all day yesterday, exhibiting minimum patience. “But I can take care of myself.”
“You say that because you haven’t met him yet. He was performing surgery in New York.”
“I say that because I have faith in humanity,” I chirp. Melinda rolls a pair of heavily mascaraed eyes.
“That’s about to change in half an hour,” she informs me, flattening the non-existing wrinkles on her cardigan as she shoots up out of her chair. “He should be back from a surgery in New York. No chance I’m going to risk being here when he arrives. Good luck, Savannah Martin.”
Before I can fashion a comeback and ask her if she’s sure Dr. Matthews hasn’t crafted a coat out of her puppies, Melinda is out the door, leaving a trail of flowery perfume and anxiety in her wake.
The first thing I do is stick a “High-Five, You’re Alive!” green silicone hand on top of the reception desk and set my “Being Normal is Boring” Marilyn Monroe mug beside my keyboard. I’d kill for some herbal tea right now. Not literally, of course. That would beat the purpose of working at a clinic—a children’s clinic, especially.
Drawn to Him: A Romance Collection Page 12
