The Wolf's Captive (29 page)
Read The Wolf's Captive Online
Authors: Chloe Cox
“Get in,” he said.
Cesare waved once more to the drunk and happy citizenry, and closed the door to the carriage. He leaned back into the pull as the carriage started forward, his arm over the back of the seat, and looked at his wife.
“Over my knee,” he ordered.
Lucia happily complied.
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The Wolf’s Captive,
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Thanks again! I love getting into the heads of these characters and exploring the power dynamics between them, and I love writing these kinds of steamy, suspenseful love stories, and it makes me crazy happy to think people enjoy reading them, too.
‘Til the next book… ;)
Chloe
Claire is living a boring life, full of little humiliations and impossible dreams. That is, until she gets a secretive invitation to see the mysterious Doctor.
Claire is skeptical about his treatment at first, but hell, what does she have to lose? At least it's exciting. She doesn't expect the Doctor to be so tall, so attractive, so commanding. She doesn't expect to be examined so...thoroughly. She doesn't expect to be disciplined so effectively. And she doesn’t expect to fall in love.
Each session, Claire learns something new about herself and her sexual desires. And each session, she gets closer to her ultimate goal: the Doctor himself.
Here’s an excerpt from
Doctor’s Orders: The Complete Series
…
I want to speak – I want him to speak to me – but the game has already started. We have our respective roles. I tug at the hem of my dress, marveling again at the deep, dark red against my very white thighs, and wait for him. I’ve never been good at sitting still and waiting. I can’t help but look around, curious. I’m drinking in the surprisingly understated interior, the leather seats, the full bar, when suddenly I see that the divider is down and there’s a flash of smiling eyes in the rearview mirror. It’s the driver, getting an eyeful.
“Give me your leg,” the Doctor finally says.
I hesitate for just a moment, knowing I’m visible to the driver, but I push forward. It’s about trust, I learned the last time. I trust the Doctor, so I shift in my seat, spread my legs slightly, and hook my left leg over his right. He puts his warm hand on my exposed leg. Casually he traces the curves and hollows of my knee with his thumb, and my skin starts to come alive in his wake.
“What is the thing that you feel most often, Claire?”
His hand is slowly inching up my leg, each caress pushing gently further up my thigh, defining a new border, a new line that I want him to cross. I don’t know how he does this to me. Already I feel wetness leaking between my thighs. As instructed, I’m not wearing any underwear.
“Claire, I asked you a question,” he says. I grip the leather seat with my open hand, and try to calm my breathing. I can’t help but check the rearview mirror again, and my eyes meet the driver’s. He doesn’t look away.
“What?” My voice shakes a little.
“As you go about your day, Claire,” the Doctor says with an air of tested patience, his hand pushing at the hem of my very short dress, “what do you feel most frequently? What is the emotion that guides you? That dominates you?”
My eyes are locked on the driver’s. He looks away only when necessary. My head is full of the Doctor’s lightly accented voice, my body full of his touch. My nipples strain at the thin material of my dress, and I can feel my pulse everywhere.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
The Doctor slips his hand around my waist and roughly pulls me onto his lap. I put my arm around his neck, and relax into his chest. He smells...warm. I could get used to this, the feel of his arms around me, his scent. His hands. My eyes half close as his hands begin to roam over my body, one hand slipping between my legs, still toying with the hem of my dress, the other curling around my torso and palming my breast. Suddenly he squeezes my breast, pressing down on the nipple, and I moan, wriggling my ass into his leg in appreciation.
When I open my eyes I see the driver. Watching. The Doctor must feel me tense up.
“Claire. You do know. Tell me.”
His hand leaves my breast and moves to my back. The sound of a zipper slowly unzipping is surprisingly loud in the rich silence of the limo, loud enough that even the driver can hear it. I know this because I see the corners of his eyes turn up in a smile.
The front of my dress falls forward a little, barely held up by my breasts. If I breathe too deeply...
“What do you feel right now, Claire?”
“Besides turned on?”
The Doctor looks directly at me for the first time, and smiles briefly. I think part of him likes my spunk, sometimes. He slides a hand further up, under my dress, and squeezes my thigh, hard. Reminding me who’s boss.
“Yes, Claire. Besides that.”
The eyes in the rearview are still watching me intently, barely watching the road. If there were more traffic it would be dangerous.
“Afraid,” I say softly.
“You feel fear?”
“Yes.”
His hand leaves my thigh, moves up to brush the loose strap away from my shoulder, to tease the front of my dress away. Slowly, so slowly.
“Of what are you afraid, Claire?”
“Being seen,” I whisper. Not low enough: I think the driver heard anyway. It doesn’t seem to deter him. His eyes stare back at me without shame.
“Why should that frighten you?”
“I don’t know.”
He pulls the front of my dress down in one swift motion, and my breasts burst forth, nipples already hard, skin flushed. The driver stares. I’m humiliated by my own arousal, but I can’t keep myself from pushing my breasts forward, begging for them to be touched.
The Doctor absently toys with one nipple, then the other, before dropping his hand to my lap. He shoves past the hem of my dress this time, and finally, finally, I feel his fingers dip between my folds, idly working the length of my slit, still toying with me. My skin flushes hot, and my breath hitches as desire coils tightly around his touch. I want him so badly.
“Of what are you afraid?” He asks again, slightly amused. I can barely focus with his fingers so close to my entrance, his palm pressing into my clit. I open my eyes to try to clear my head, and there he is again: the driver, watching in the mirror.
The Doctor doesn’t make mistakes. None of this is an accident.
“That he’ll think I’m a slut,” I say between panting breaths, nodding toward the front of the limo. “That I’m stupid.”
“So?” the Doctor asks.
He slips two fingers deep inside me, curling them as he does so. I shudder and grind my hips into him, my head dipping as I hold onto his neck. I wish I could answer him, but I can’t, and it’s not just because he’s begun working his fingers in and out, fucking me with his hand like he did last time, his palm pressing into my clit in the same rhythm.
“Claire.” There’s a hardness to his voice, and when I don’t reply, lost deep beneath the surface, swirling around the sensation of his fingers inside me, he grips my hair, close to the scalp, and tilts my head up to look at him. “You will come for me as he watches.”
Oh, God, I think I will...
You can find the rest of
Doctor’s Orders: The Complete Series
here:
The Lady Submits (BDSM Bacchanal)
Doctor’s Orders: The Complete Series
Bad Teacher (Erotic Lessons)
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ICENSE
N
OTES AND
D
ISCLAIMER
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, and is not for resale or distribution, but if you like it enough to lend it to one of your friends, that’s cool with me.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead are entirely coincidental, and really quite incredible, considering.
Copyright 2012 Chloe Cox. All rights reserved.
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ABLE OF
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ONTENTS
An Excerpt From Doctor’s Orders
Table of Contents
