Daring the Doctor

“Daddy,” I whimper, pressing my sex into his hand, bringing those gently pumping fingers deeper. “Your hands. Your hands. I love them.”

Brows drawn, he looks down into my eyes, sweat glistening on his upper lip. “The one procedure I’ve never performed.” He lets out a shuddering breath. And then he speaks to me in his doctor’s voice. That low boom that no doubt causes residents to whisper with reverence as he passes. “Lie still, Miss Beck. This will only hurt for a moment.”

I dig my teeth into my lower lip and feel him sink in, hesitate, then push.

His stern countenance slips at whatever he feels, his curse mingling with my soft cry. And for a few seconds, there’s a pinching pressure, but he keeps his fingers high and tight, that square jaw ticking, eyes hot, until the pain recedes.

And I’m left with nothing but a restless ache.

An emptiness that only he can fill.

All I have to do is shift my hips and whine a little and he’s moving his fingers. Faster, faster, until he’s mimicking intercourse. Fast, filthy intercourse, his fingers squelching in and out of me. “Open your thighs,” he instructs thickly. “Need to watch this tight thing getting fingered. It’s so wet and tiny, isn’t it? I’ll be lucky to get halfway home.”

“N-no,” I complain, my head thrashing side to side on the carpet. “I want all of you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We’re going to try. I’m going to pump over and over again until you forget what’s it’s like not to have my cock lodged in this pretty baby.” He leans down and kisses my breasts in turn, then licks a path down to my stomach, swirling his tongue in my belly button. “First, I’m going to give it a nice, warm bath. You kept your cherry safe so I’d be the only one to know the flavor, didn’t you, Charlotte? Let Daddy lick it up now.”

I’m struck momentarily blind.

There’s the sight of his broad shoulders wedging in between my thighs, the flash of pink traveling upward, through the center of my sex—and then I’m blacked out. Lost in space. The stars are right there within my reach, but I’m almost too paralyzed at the pleasure to move. Almost. My thighs move of their own accord, writhing on the floor, as wide as I can get them, because oh my God, oh my God, he uses his tongue to wiggle a small section of flesh out of the way and then he’s laving my clitoris. Groaning gutturally as he does it, his fingers working in and out of my channel. I regain my sight at the same time I recapture the ability to move, my hips rolling upward, attempting to grind that almighty pearl of flesh against his tongue.

“Please don’t stop,” I pant, ripping at the strands of his hair. “Please!”

A second passes. Two.

Pleasure courses through me, gathering, pulling, and then it explodes.

My femininity clenches and a screaming sob flies out of me, Dean burying his face against my juncture, his tongue pressed hard to that throbbing button. And it goes on and on, the never-ceasing pulses of gratification that rattle my bones and make me want to give in. To anything he wants. In bed. Out. I’ll curl up on a silver platter and acquiesce to his whims. My Daddy is so powerful. So perfect. Look what he can do to my body. Turn it into a vessel of sex and sin and decadence and relief. I’m his.

“Time for your fuck,” he growls, prowling up my body while unzipping his pants.

“Y-yes, sir.”

I’m only given a split second of time to register the thick, heavy trunk he fists in a shaking hand, before it’s being pressed against my entrance. Dean’s grunts color the air as he works it in, his warm breath bathing my lips. “I’m getting it in. God knows you can’t get any wetter, you sweet, perfect girl. Dripping in your own come.” His body goes rigid, a moan catching in his throat when he finally manages to sink in a couple of inches, his hips thrusting slowly, slowly, gaining ground little by little. “Jesus Christ. You couldn’t sink a dime into this thing, let alone my cock. I’m going to hurt you, goddammit.”

And he doesn’t want to. It’s obvious he’s eager but conflicted.

I won’t lie, there’s a definite pressure that builds every time he sinks deeper, but I meant what I said about wanting all of him. I need him satisfied to be satisfied myself. The only way to give us what we both need is to tempt him into inflicting temporary pain on me.

I slide my arms up over my head, lifting my back in a teasing arch, drawing his hungry attention to my breasts. I smile at him, opening my legs slightly wider. “It’s so big, Daddy.” I drop my voice to a whisper. “I want to feel it in my tummy.”