Recovery (Doctor Dom Volume 5) (A BDSM & Medical Play Novella) (3 page)

My eyes were on him, committing every mundane detail to memory. He was wearing casual grey pants, a well-washed navy blue t-shirt. His feet were bare.

His voice interrupted my contemplation. “Are you wet, Lisa?” he asked me as the water ran in the sink. He didn’t turn around.

“Always,” I answered. I’d meant to sound sassy. My voice instead was a soft whimper of need.

He turned off the tap, and turned around, leaned lazily against the counter. “Take off your shirt,” he said. This time, his tone was much closer to an actual order.
It was a bit of a struggle to take off my shirt while lying back on the table with my knees spread open, but I managed. Patrick watched me wriggle, his eyes expressionless.

My bus
tier came into view, and Patrick growled. My lips curved into a smug satisfied smile. Yup. That was exactly the reaction I was going for. I didn’t take my eyes off him as he slowly dried his hands on a towel. He came towards me, and my breathing quickened, my breasts heaving from anticipation and nervous tension.

He sat down on a chair between my open legs, and he pulled the chair forward so he was achingly close to my soaking pussy. “You are quite wet, Lisa,” he said, and I could hear the pleasure in his voice. He ran
an exploratory finger through my folds, and I whimpered and tried to push my hips towards him so he would deepen the contact, press down on me harder.

“Do I get to eat dessert too?” I asked him, while I still retained the ability to speak.

“Hush,” he chided.
Right. No D/s. Pardon my French, but bullshit.
Patrick gave orders almost as second nature. He might have thought that it was easy to suppress this side of his personality, but it wasn’t quite as straightforward as that.

I
t wasn’t for me either. The fact that I lay there, my legs open as he’d ordered, doing exactly what he said and nothing more – it wasn’t easy for me not to be submissive in bed either. The wetness in my pussy was partly about him, his hard body, and the way he touched me but it was also about his control. The way he played with me, the way he pushed me to the edge of what I could take so I could find release.

He lowered his tongue on
to my pussy, and I stopped thinking and just paid attention to the feelings coursing through me.

His hands moved over my hips, pulling me towards him. He held me down so I couldn’t move, and his tongue licked my slit, long, gentle strokes that sent warmth and pleasure running through me. Patrick knew my body well. Had he been so inclined, he could make me come in minutes. But this wasn’t a quick fuck. This was just him enjoying my body. Enjoying dessert.

Have I mentioned that dessert is my favourite part of a meal?

His stubble grazed at my folds, raising heat each time he moved his face. He made slurped noises of enjoyment, and each time he made a sound, a tingle ran through my body at the pleasure he was receiving from this act of giving me pleasure.

“How’s dessert?” I whimpered through my moans.

“Favorite part of the meal,” he replied, and I smiled at the way he echoed my thoughts. “Also,” he continued, “didn’t I tell you to hush?”

Why yes, you did, Patrick.
You also told me you were hesitant about the D/s. Again, pardon my French, but bullshit.

Instead of replying with an incredibly smart ass comment, and risking the possibility that he would stop, I just moaned my agreement.
He chuckled. He knew me very well, and he could probably tell that I was biting my tongue.

I groaned as he r
an the flat of his tongue all the way up my slit, then rubbed his chin against my clitoris. His stubble raked at my sensitive nub, engulfing me in burning flames of lust, and I fisted my hands against my sides and whimpered helplessly in response. That nub was so sensitive, and it was aching with a mix of pleasure and pain.

“So wet,” he said, his voice muffled. “That set you gushing. Want me to do it again?” He didn’t wait for my permission, he just rubbed his cheek against my clitoris, and I keened as the stubble grazed my nub again.

“Patrick,” I begged. I almost slipped up and called him Dr. Anderson, but I caught myself just in time. I wasn’t going to push the D/s. I was going to give it time.

“Yes, Lisa?” He sounded amused.

“Don’t stop,” I moaned, parting my legs wider to give him more room, and reaching down to hike up my skirt still further. My hands moved, entirely on instinct to my breasts, and I pulled them out from under the bustier, and I squeezed them as his tongue ran over my entire slit.

He raised his head to watch me play with my breasts, and I stopped automatically, waiting for his permission to continue. “Do it,” he said, and I smiled at him, my eyes glazed and unfocused.
“I want to watch you pinch your nipples. I want to hear you moan.”

I kneaded
my breasts, and pulled my nipples, hissing softly as the pain lanced through me, and he slid two fingers into my wet snatch, and thrust them in and out of me. His eyes never left my breasts.

His
spare hand moved to my right thigh, and he urged my legs still wider apart. I pushed my hips into his face, shamelessly begging for his mouth on my clitoris. A low growl greeted my efforts, and his hand tightened around my thigh, squeezing it painfully. But he bent his head in response to my wordless plea, and his tongue found my clitoris again, and he licked and nipped my inner lips lightly with his teeth.

I was falling apart. The thrusting of his fingers, the steady swipe of his tongue against my clitoris, the deliberate eroticism of lying on a dining table while my lover feasted on my pussy – sensation swirled through me, and I let it all overtake me, and then I was shouting out his name as my muscles clenched and quivered in climax.

He kept me at that pleasurable edge with his skillful tongue, licking steadily to keep my orgasm going, but finally, I groaned and pushed his head away. “I need a break,” I pleaded, and he laughed.

“Mmm,” he said, coming up to kiss me. I opened my mouth and tasted myself on me, and I smiled with pleasure.

“We aren’t done, you know,” he said to me, pulling free of my embrace.

I looked at him, smirking slightly. “Indeed,” I said. “I haven’t eaten dessert yet.”

He laughed. “That’s not what I meant. Turn around. Lie on your stomach, spread your legs open for me.”

“You know,” I told him. “When the patio doors are installed, and everyone in the neighborhood can see into the kitchen, this is going to be a lot harder to do.”

“I’ll plant trees,” he promised. “Because trust me, I’m going to want to do this a lot.”

Fuck yes. I was never going to be able to eat a meal in this kitchen without thinking about his mouth on my pussy. And from the smirk on his face, I
could see that he found that idea very, very satisfying.

He pushed his fingers into me, and his mouth covered my ass with kisses and tiny nipping bites. My
throat was making guttural noises of pleasure. His tongue moved closer and closer to the cleft between my cheeks, and then his tongue dipped into the crack, and circled my asshole for just a second, before pulling back. I moaned. This felt very, very good, and very, very naughty.

“
Do that again,” I said. If we weren’t playing D/s, then I was most certainly going to ask for a repeat of that forbidden pleasure. Patrick spanked my ass briefly. “Hush,” he said mildly.

He teased me, using his hands to part my cheeks, and grazing the inside with his chin, rubbing stubble all over
that delicate skin. His fingers pumped my pussy, and transferred wetness to my ass, then his thumb entered that tight hole. He held me like one would hold a bowling ball, and the feel of fingers filing every hold of mine caused my arousal to peak frighteningly fast. I came, and my orgasm caused every inch of me to be filled with tingling, sparkling pleasure.

“Patrick,” I groaned. He
flipped me over and smiled at me, and pushed my thighs wide open. His mouth found my clitoris again, and his fingers pushed into my ass. Three fingers, and I whimpered in momentary pain, but he was unrelenting and I forced myself to relax. Soon though, the sparks began to trickle through me again, as he rubbed my sensitive back passage with his fingers, pushing and pumping and twisting so that my hole would yield to his will. It was all too much, and I came again with a scream.

“Please, no more,” I begged. “I need a break.”

He straightened with a satisfied look. “I do like dessert,” he said.

“
I didn’t get any,” I pouted, and he laughed at me tenderly, and kissed my forehead.

“
Upstairs? The bedroom?”

I felt a brief pang for the examination room, but I nodded my agreement. I tried to straighten my outfit, but he shook his head.
“Take off the skirt,” he said. “I want to see you in just your underwear. And don’t you dare tuck those gorgeous breasts back.”

I obeyed, sliding off the skirt, standing in front of him with my breasts hanging out from my bustier, and my pussy naked, wet and glistening. He took an audible inward breath, and visibly strove for control. 

“
Up you go,” he ordered, gesturing to the staircase. I could feel his eyes on my ass the entire way up.

Lisa:

I made a brief detour to grab my purse, and Patrick raised a questioning eyebrow at me.

“
Test results,” I said. I cleared my throat. Something had just occurred to me, and I needed some clarification. “Umm, you haven’t slept with anyone in the last week, right?” I sounded nervous.

He gave me a look of sheer incredulity.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he said. He didn’t sound like he thought my question was funny.

“Sorry,” I
replied. “I guess I just needed to check.”

“
Come here,” he ordered, sitting on the bed and leaning against the headboard, looking at me with a troubled look on his face. I obeyed, and sat next to him.

“
What gives?” he asked me directly.

“
I don’t know,” I replied. I gulped. I’d shown flashes of insecurity before, but it was around Andrea. What I hadn’t revealed was that I didn’t think that I deserved Patrick. Sometimes, I thought I was stuck in a Candid Camera skit, where someone would jump out at any moment and reveal that the entire thing had been a joke.

I didn’t want to tell him this. To reveal this secret, shameful bit of me. But then, I reconsidered.
This was Patrick, who had told me about his difficult childhood. I couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been to be a little boy, believing your parents didn’t want you. Though he was reticent by nature, he had opened up to me when I’d asked. He deserved the same courtesy.

“
Most of the time, I’m fine,” I said finally. “I don’t want you to think that I’m wandering around in some numbing crush of insecurity, because I’m not. But I was the acne-covered teenager who didn’t go to prom. Then, right after college, when I was finally putting that behind me, Nick happened.”

I searched for the next words, and he was silent next to me, letting me finish. But he had leaned against me as I spoke, and he had put his head on my shoulders. “
I’ve put it behind me. Most of the time, it doesn’t affect me. But every once a while, it can overtake me, and I become that ugly teenager once again. You are gorgeous. Any woman would give her right arm to be with you. I’m not entirely sure this is all happening to me.”

“
You think I’m gorgeous? I’m flattered.” I could hear the smile in his voice. He took my hand in his, and for a few minutes, lust took a back seat as I bared my soul to my boyfriend, and he responded with the flawless empathy that he always showed.

“
I will never cheat on you,” Patrick said quietly.

“
I know,” I replied. “I do know. Every once a while, I can’t help wondering how I lucked out into you, I guess.”

He laughed.
“Can I confess something? I think the same thing.” My openly skeptical look must have been obvious, because he shook his head. “I do. It isn’t just that you are gorgeous, because you are completely beautiful, but it’s more than that. It’s that you are also a beautiful person inside. You don’t throw tantrums. You are loving and supportive. You enjoy life. You love your friends and family. There’s a wholeness to you. Not an untouched perfection. No one has that, because if we want to go out and live our lives to the fullest, scars will result. But you have a realness about you, and I can’t get enough of you.”

I looked at him, never feeling more unworthy of his incredibly warm words.
“I ran and hid after Nick happened for thirteen years,” I said finally.

“
But you didn’t hide forever,” he replied. “I ran last week,” he continued. “We are human. Fallible. And sometimes, we do stupid things.”

I
just sat there, with Patrick resting his head on my shoulder, and peace descended on me. Everything was going to be just fine.

***

“So this dessert thing I was promised?” he asked after a long pause. “Would I seem incredibly crass if I brought it up?”

I giggled.
“Terribly uncouth,” I replied. “Hey,” I continued, stretching and hooking my foot around the strap of my bag, and pulling it towards me. I handed Patrick a piece of paper. “Test results.”

He smiled and reached over, and opened a drawer in his bedside table,
removing an iPad and entering an address in the browser window. “Here’s mine,” he said, handing it to me.

“One of the perks of working in a hospital? Electronic records?” I asked.

He nodded. “There’s downsides too,” he said ruefully. “I know the doctor who mans the clinic. I got teased unmercifully about this.”

I giggled and read the information in front of me. All clear. Patrick scanned the piece of paper I had handed him, and then looked at me. 

“So, we doing this?” I asked him.

He smiled a slow smile at me. “We are indeed,” he said.
“Now.” His voice was filled with anticipation, as he pulled his shirt over his head, not bothering to undo his buttons, and tossed it carelessly across the room.

I moved and sat on his lap, and lowered my fingers to the waistband of his pants, undoing the button and lowering the zipper. “Want me to go down on you?” I asked hopefully.

He shook his head. “Oh no, Lisa,” he said firmly. “I want to be in that sweet pussy. I’m going to pound you so hard that you are going to have trouble walking tomorrow.”

Every muscle in my body clenched in response to that statement. It had been an entire week, and I needed him. “Good thing it’s Saturday tomorrow then,” I quipped, striving for a light tone.

He slid me off his lap, and removed his pants and boxers. Then he gestured, and I swung a leg over his hips, and positioned my wet, dripping pussy over his hard cock, then sank down, whimpering with pleasure as I felt his hard length in me.

It had been a long time since I’d gone without a condom. Thirteen years.
Not since Nick O’Malley. I’d forgotten how different it felt. How good. How absolutely intimate.

“Ah fuck, Lisa,” he breathed, an intent look on his face.

“I can feel you,” I said softly in reply. I swear, I said those words like he’d just performed brain surgery in front of me. I could hear the reverence in my voice. This felt so utterly different. So real.

I saw the same
reverence reflected in his eyes. “Ah fuck, baby,” he said again, his hands on my hips. “Here, lean back a bit.” He lifted me up and pulled his cock out of me, and I held just out of reach as he rubbed his cock all over my entrance. I hissed in displeasure; I wanted Patrick inside me.

“Stop teasing me,” I begged, and he gave me a steady, even look.

“Do you tell me how to fuck you, Lisa?” he asked, his voice level.

I
tried not to smirk. It wasn’t that easy for Patrick to turn off the dominance. I didn’t voice those sentiments though; I didn’t want to push the recovery. Things would all sort themselves out in due course of time. “Please,” I said softly instead. “I need you in me.”

“Ah, sweetness,” he kissed my neck, as he
released his hold on my hips so I could slide back down on his cock. “You are so hot, so tight.”

Every inch
of my pussy was raked by his cock. “Oh,” I said faintly. “This is so good. I can feel you.”

His hands reached up and pinched my nipples.
“Keep moving, he ordered. “Touch yourself as you ride me.”

I obeyed,
rubbing my clitoris while looking into his eyes as I bounced up and down on his cock. This felt so intimate. The lighting in Patrick’s bedroom was not harsh, but it was still bright enough that I could see everything. I could see the look of heat in his eyes as I moved over him. I could see him clench with arousal as I swivelled my hips, trying to get his cock to hit my g-spot. I could see the pleasure in his eyes as I made contact with that spot in my vagina, and I just raised and lowered my hips so that I would make repeated, aching contact, over and over, until I screamed, coming in clenching waves around his hard cock.

“
Oh, baby, that was fucking amazing,” he said, his eyes bright with lust. “But we aren’t done here.” He threw me on the bed, and moved to stand up. His hands wrapped around my ankles, and he pulled me so that my ass was at the edge of the bed. My knees were ruthlessly pushed out the way, and he stood at the edge of the bed and drove into me so hard, I moved backwards on the bed with a squeak of startled pleasure.

“You know,” I said to him, my tone serious, “
my pussy would like to send you a thank-you note right now.”

His lips curved into a smile.
“That’s a very polite pussy,” he replied. “What else would your pussy like to do?”

I tightened the
muscles inside my vagina as best I could, and watched a quiver run across his body in response. “It would like to do that,” I responded.

“
Do what?” he asked innocently. He held on to my thighs and slammed into me.

Oh please. He’d felt it. He just wanted me to do it again, and I was happy to oblige. I tightened my muscles as best I could, holding on to his cock like I couldn’t bear to let it go, and I heard him hiss, and my mouth curved into the smuggest, most satisfied smile in the world. He laughed aloud at my look.

“Minx,” he accused me indulgently.

I winked at him.
“Guilty as charged,” I replied, closing my eyes as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside my vagina. “That angle, do it again,” I begged, and he obliged with a smile.

“L
ike this?” he asked, his nails raking my thighs in punctuation, something that sparked so much overflowing sensation in me that I could barely form words.

“Just like that,”
I panted out, when I could pull myself together long enough to form a sentence.

“
I’m not going to last much longer,” he warned me. “You just feel too fucking good, this is too fucking intense.”

I smiled wickedly at him, and spo
ke in my best porn star voice. “Come all over me, Patrick, use me for your pleasure.” I squeezed my breasts together, and deliberately licked my lower lip.

His eyes were amused. “P
orn fantasies?” he asked me. “We’ll have to talk about that one later.”

One second, amusement. The next
second, as he continued pounding into me, the amusement was replaced by hard lust. “Ah, Lisa,” he said. His eyes were focused, but distant, the look a guy has right before he comes. Then I felt him in me, and it was so surreal – I felt him squirt in me, and I whimpered at how erotic it was.

He collapsed on the bed next to me, and groaned.

“So help me, I think this no condom thing is going to kill me,” he said. “So good.”

I smiled at him, and he
considerately moved his hand to between my legs, found my sopping wet pussy, and swooped unerringly on my clitoris. Earlier, I’d mentioned he wanted to take his time. Not now. Now, his goal was to get me to come.

I did. Shockingly fast. I mean, I still held the record. Patrick couldn’t make me come faster than I could with my own fingers. But he was pretty damn close to my speed and more than that, his fingers felt different from mine. When he touched me, no matter how
quickly he was trying to get me to come, I felt cherished and possessed by him.

We fell asleep in each other’s arms.