I held out my hands, shrugging. “I can’t possibly know. I’m just a transplant surgeon.”
He stared at me for a moment, shaking his head like he just couldn’t believe that I had it in me to be that devious. “Enough,” he said under his breath. “More than enough out of you for tonight.” Then he scooped me up, taking hold of me as if I weighed hardly more than a throw pillow, and marched toward my bedroom.
“Enough meaning…what? Enough diagnoses? Enough superhero movies? Enough?—”
I didn’t get to say anything else because he dropped me to the bed in a heap and forced me to watch while he took all the time in the world to unbuckle his belt. He whipped it off and let it fall to the floor. “Enough,” he said, as if that explained everything. “Get that sweatshirt off.”
I’d changed into lounge pants and a big hoodie before starting the movies. Since it was my policy to never wear a bra around the house save for extraordinary circumstances, following through on this request meant I’d be sitting here topless. I didn’t mind that. I mean, we’d known each other naked before we knew much else.
But there was something deeply ordinary about this moment. We weren’t fumbling around each other, trying to figure out how it was going to be and who we were in this revised version of us. Trying to figure out if we had enough for more than one night.
“Dr. Aldritch, I told you to remove the sweatshirt and I don’t like to be kept waiting.” Henry pulled off his t-shirt and then pushed his jeans down. They fell to the floor along with my jaw. I’d never heard such a commanding tone from him. “Show me you’re up to the task.”
My body responded to that tone with such an immediate rush of arousal that my inner muscles ached. I couldn’t decide ifI wanted to figure out why those rough words had me springing to attention or if I’d be happier not tracing the roots of this one.
I decided to pull off the sweatshirt.
“Much better.” He folded his arms over his bare chest. His cock strained the soft fabric of his boxers, jutting out toward me. “And the pants too. Promptly, this time.”
Still too dazed from the sudden onslaught of need buzzing inside me, I wriggled out of the pants without protest. As if there was anything to protest here. If anything, this reminded me of that night in Tahoe when we hadn’t been able to get enough of each other.
It was the same now—except we knew it wouldn’t end with the morning.
I stayed there, flat on the bed and stripped down to my skin, while Henry stared down at me. His jaw flexed as he looked me over. Because I knew he’d say something about it, I fought the urge to drape an arm over my belly or curl myself around a pillow.
He opened the top drawer of my nightstand and sifted through the contents. I had a good idea what he was looking for and my cheeks burned at the thought of it. When he took my wrist and placed a long, thick vibrator in my palm, my entire body flushed.
“Demonstrate the correct usage.”
I blinked up at him. My core clenched so hard it hurt. My nipples were pulled so tight they felt sunburned. I couldn’t think beyond those aches. “Um. What?”
“I expect you to come prepared.” His grip on my wrist tightened as he guided my hand between my thighs. “Now, pay attention. I won’t repeat myself.”
The blunt head of the toy pressed against my seam and a startled noise slipped out of me. Henry paused, studying me for a moment as he ran his thumb over my knuckles. “Stop?”
I shook my head. “I’m okay.”
His expression tightened as he nudged the vibe forward. There was no resistance, even for the size of this toy, because I was making my own personal monsoon tonight. “Are you holding your tools properly?” He arched a brow. “You’ll end up doing more work if you don’t.”
Is that how I sound when I give him orders? And does it havethiseffect on him?
I shifted my hold on the base. “I think so.”
He let out an impatient sigh that destroyed any resistance I might’ve had to this man. It was just gone. “For your sake, let’s hope so.” He rolled his eyes and the only thing I wanted was a hint of approval. Just a tiny flicker of approval from this cool, authoritative version of him. “The pussy is”—he cleared his throat—“it’s very wet.”
“Is that good?”
“It’s perfect.” Another throat clearing.Argh.I loved it. “Check for yourself. Do you feel that?”
Henry reached for my free hand and brought my fingers to my clit. My legs fell wide open, giving up any pretense of modesty. He teased me with small, steady circles that made it hard to keep my eyes open. “Yeah. Yes. I-I do.”
“Good. Don’t move.” He shifted my other hand, guiding the toy inside me. “We’ll start off easy and see how much of this we can take.” He said this conversationally, as if I wasn’t already shaking and throbbing and fighting for my life here. Glancing up at me, he added, “It’s important to have a plan in place before you begin.” He turned the vibrator on. “It’s more efficient.”
My god.This man was going to destroy me and he was going to do it using my own instructional feedback. How was that even possible?
“You’ll notice,” he continued, rocking the toy inside me at a lazy pace, “that the right timing is critical. Too slow and we don’t make enough progress.”
He went on teasing me for a leisurely minute. It was enough to keep me on edge. Hell, he could’vestaredat me extra hard and I would’ve been hanging on by my fingertips over here.
