“I can’t bear it any longer,” he grunts, pushing his trousers down. “I need to have you. Right here, right now.”
Oh fuck.
My breath hitches and before I can so much as respond, he lifts me up. I gasp, instinctively wrapping my legs around his waist.
“Feel what you do to me, Daisy,” he murmurs as he draws me flush against him. “You make me hard as a rock.”
“Oh, god,” I whisper, my breath hitching.
He holds my gaze. “May I?” Perfect manners, even in his lust.
“Yes!” I gasp, already fucking dying for it. “God, yes. Go for it.”
He chuckles.
With one hand supporting me, he manages to push my knickers aside with his other. Rougher than he usually is, which makes it even hotter.
With a groan, he thrusts his throbbing cock into me, impaling me against his hallway wall.
“You feel so bloody amazing,” he breathes, his eyes never leaving mine. “I can’t keep my fucking hands off you. Five minutes alone with you, and I’m”—a guttural sound rips from his throat as his cock drives deeper—“ravishing you like some fucking wild beast. You make me feral.”
A laugh that sounds more like a moan spills out of me as he slides in and out, his dirty talk rendering me mute.
His jaw tightens, a thick vein popping at his temple as he drives into me. “Fuck, darling, come for me. I can’t hold back anymore. I need to feel you explode around me, feel you pulsing and milking me as I fucking fill you.”
His forehead presses against mine, our breaths ragged and desperate.
I’msoclose—teetering on the edge, every nerve ending lit up like a live wire.
I don’t know if it’s the way he feels inside me, the raw, unfiltered need in his voice, or the words spilling from his lips—sounlikethe composed, restrained Dr. Cavendish the rest of the world sees.
But whatever it is, I’m gone.
My lips form his name.
Everything shatters.
I shudder around him, my body convulsing violently with the sheer force of my orgasm, but he keeps me upright, his breathing erratic and harsh against my lips.
With a guttural roar, he drives into me, his cock throbbing as he releases, filling me with his heat, completely lost in his own explosive climax.
We stay like that, pressed against his fancy wallpaper, for what could be minutes or days or possibly several lifetimes—time gets a bit fuzzy when you’ve just had your brain scrambled by mind-bending sex.
Not complaining, though. A little chaos never hurt anyone.
“Thank you,” he breathes against me.
I blink up at him, lick my lips. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”
He tightens his grip slightly. “I do.You have no idea what you do to me.”
A shiver runs through me, but before I can respond, he exhales, smoothing down my skirt with careful hands. Then he smiles before threading his fingers through mine and leading me toward one of his many lounge rooms.
“Sit down. I’ll sort the drinks,” he says, already heading to the kitchen.
I grin goofily as he disappears, not just because we just defiled his hallway wall, but because he knows my drink order now. Gin and tonic, heavy on both, with a slice of lime cut with the kind of surgical precision that reminds me you can take the man out of the operating theater, but you cannot stop him from treating every citrus fruit like it’s in need of a bypass.
I flop onto his magnificent couch and casually flick on the TV. I know the drill—I watch TV, he works.
