Page 8 of Tempting the Doctor

“Good evening, Dr. Miller. Ma’am. I have your meals and wine. May I?” he asks.

“Please, Alexander,” Trey responds with a nod.

This must be the concierge that Trey mentioned to the doorman when we arrived. With efficient movements, he places two covered dishes in front of us, then pours glasses of white wine. When he’s finished, he removes the domed lids from our plates, gives a little bow, then disappears.

The roasted chicken, potatoes, and asparagus are delicious, and I can’t help the moan that escapes after my first bite. Trey rests a hand on my thigh and squeezes lightly.

While we eat, he leaves his hand on my lap, caressing my skin through my dress, playing with the fabric, and making it impossible to concentrate on our conversation. By the time we’re finished, I’m so worked up, I can hardly stay in my seat.

Trey stands and offers me a hand. “Now that we’ve eaten, how about a tour?”

“I’d love one,” I say, placing my hand in his.

He helps me stand, then keeps my hand tucked in his as he guides me around the large apartment. Each room is more beautiful than last, decorated in a modern, industrial aesthetic. I find it suits his personality well.

My nerves begin to pick up as we reach his bedroom. The room is dominated by a king-sized bed covered with a navy duvet. This room is darker than the rest and decorated in deep blues and grays.

Trey leads me over to the bed, then turns me to face him. He puts his hands on my hips and presses his chest to mine.

“I want you, Mandy,” he says. “Tell me I can have you.”

I hesitate. Do I tell him I’m a virgin? Will he even still want me when he knows how inexperienced I am? “I-I want you, too. But, Trey, I’ve never . . .” I trail off, uncertain.

“You’ve never what, baby?” He asks. When I don’t respond, he leans back and looks in my eyes. “Mandy, are you a virgin?”

“Yes,” I whisper, looking away.

Trey groans loudly and takes my chin in his hand, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You have no idea how hot that makes. You’ve never been touched by a man? At all?”

“Only you.”

With a low growl, his mouth lowers to mine, the lightest touch of our lips inflaming me. My hands move from his chest to his broad shoulders, and I wrap myself around him. His tongue nudges my lips apart to tangle with mine, and hot need slides down to my core.

His hair is soft under my fingertips as I pull him down to me, for the first time finding him far too tall. I’m nearly bent over backwards, but his hand is strong at the small of my back as he presses my body close to his. I slide my hands back down his chest, trying to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt, all while being transported by the sensations of his lips claiming my mouth, his hands roaming my body, and that huge cock straining against my stomach. I finally give up with a harsh sigh and push against his chest in frustration.

He breaks our heated kiss to laugh at me. “Impatient?” he asks.

I lean back and mold my hand against the thick outline of his cock, kneading the hard bulge with my palm. I stare him straight in the eye, daring him to admit he’s not in as much of a hurry as I am.

“I want you to be my first; I want you inside me,” I say.

His eyes roll back, and he lets out a groan that I find very satisfying, but it also intensifies my need. “I concede I may also be feeling a little impatient,” he says, teeth locked together.

Then, he looks down and gives me a smile that could better be described as what a wolf would give to a rabbit. I shiver with anticipation as he runs his fingers down the side of my throat, sliding them over my breast as he keeps moving his hand down to the hem of my short dress. I stop breathing when he nudges my legs apart and glides his palm between my thighs to cup my pussy. The heel of his hand presses tantalizingly against my clit, and I moan as I push into it.

“I can feel how wet you are through your panties,” he breathes against my neck.

He kisses behind my ear, making my legs weak. The hand that’s not teasing my pussy is firmly at my back, not letting me fall. I make a sound that’s meaningless, because my mind is blank. Every fiber of my being is focused on what he’s doing to me between my thighs.

“So, so wet,” he murmurs, his fingers nudging past the edge of my panties and stroking up my slit to spread my moisture onto my swollen nub.

I spread my legs more, hiking one around his hip, and lean back into his strong hand, letting him hold me up as he pleasures me. Two fingers glide back down my folds and push inside me. Not gentle, but deep and hard, readying me for something much bigger and longer than his fingers.

“Are you a little more willing to be patient now, Mandy?” he asks.

He pulls away to search my eyes. I manage to nod weakly, and I can barely focus, but he traps me in his gaze while he pushes his fingers in and out of me, working my pussy as expertly as he must work his surgical tools. My body is in the hands of a master, and all I can do is hold onto his shirt and blink as he begins to circle my clit.

His hand at my back moves lower to cup my ass, and he closes his eyes, as if loving the feel of my bare skin. I’m certainly loving it. He circles his fingers harder and faster, and I grind my body against his hand.

---