Page 49 of Unapologetic Obsession
His teeth were locked on my neck, devouring me. The spot throbbed from his attention by the time he finally let go of my throat.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. When he pulled back, I almost gasped. My god, he was beautiful, more like a male model than a doctor.
Amelie and the crew had gossiped about how no one dared to touch him without permission, not even the female companions from those magazines. I assumed it had to do with his OCD; he wanted prior notice to craft the stipulations of any physical contact.
Control freak!
I must have had a death wish because I lifted a shaky hand and placed it on his cheek. I couldn’t help it. I needed to know this was real because his icy exterior made him look like a dream—a beautiful statue—eternally out of reach. Unattainable.
A part of me was also curious about touching the untouchable man, though I fully expected him to shove my hand away and scold me. After all, he had reprimanded people for far less.
What I didn’t anticipate was for him to close his eyes and lean into my palm with a shuddering breath. “Fuck. You have no idea how badly I needed this.” It was low, barely audible, and I would’ve missed it if I weren’t sitting so close to him.
He was what I assumed a classic piece of art would look like. He should be displayed at a museum and never touched by commoners. Yet, he had thawed under my palm, even reveling in my touch.
“Careful, Little Rose,” he said huskily, his ragged breaths drawn in with great effort. “I’m seconds away from finishing what you don’t even know you started. Any more encouragement, and I’ll forget you’re still recovering.”
I snatched back my hand, holding it over my chest with the other. I had no idea what he meant, but the dark promise in his whisper was enough to ward me off.
My eyes dropped to his pants, the hard outline straining against it like it wanted to break free. I knew then, without a doubt, that he wanted me.
I should have fortified my walls where he was concerned. Hundreds of women—women much more beautiful than me—wanted him. I had seen the evidence of his fan club on and off this boat. The staff were kind enough to point out the women vying for the doctor’s heart from my window. They were on display, sunbathing on the deck, their perfect, scarless bodies taunting me. I was nowhere in the same galaxy, let alone league, as those women. However, at this moment, he only wanted me.
With great effort, I met his eyes and caught them fixed on my lips. Those eyes, generally devoid of emotions, were no longer empty. They were darkening by the second, and once more, the words hunger and thirst rang in my head.
Lost in a daze, my rapid breathing matched his, though I hadn’t done anything to reciprocate. I wanted to, but I didn’t know how and didn’t have the guts to ask.
It didn’t matter. He wasn’t the type to let others take charge. With a swift move, he lowered the adjustable backrest. He stretched out on top of me and made a space for himself between my parted legs.
A rough hand traced my thigh. I sucked in a breath as he brought a million nerve endings to life with a simple touch. His lips were on my neck once more, trailing down to my stomach. I didn’t know where he was taking this, only that my breathing was labored.
Fluids glided onto the table, my core pulsing like it wanted to explode as he moved toward the lower region of my body. He licked my thigh, then moved lower still until reclaiming the office chair and spreading my legs. His lips advanced toward me, gradually, leisurely, until I felt his hot breath on my sex.
What was he doing?
Rising to my elbows, I glanced at his face between my thighs. He inhaled deeply, breathing me in remorselessly. The way he looked, he seemed practically drugged by my smell.
Was he getting high off my scent?
“Dr. Maxwell?” I questioned, my heart racing.
“Think of it as another massage,” he breathed. “One with my tongue instead of my fingers.”
My breath came out in short bursts as he tasted my skin. I closed my eyes against his lava-like tongue. A whimper escaped my throat when it flitted inward, closer and closer, until he…
My eyes snapped open. “What are you doing?” I screamed, horrified. I pulled on his hair frantically. Oh God, why was his mouth…down there?
With a hand on my stomach, he held me against the table. I had no choice but to be spread wide for him, writhing with humiliation.
“Stop, stop, stop!”
Planting another possessive kiss between my lips, he withdrew and gazed at me. I couldn’t believe he kissed me down there…twice. What the hell was he thinking?
“Don’t do that again!” I begged, breathless and shaking. “I-it’s dirty.”
He snapped out of the madness with a dark chuckle. “Then let me clean it up.” He latched onto my lips with his teeth, sucking on them the way he had my neck.
“What?” I squeaked.
