Both clashing senses, of pain and pleasure, were making it hard to form thoughts, let alone scraping enough words together to reply back with, “Fantastic. You sure you didn’t leave anything in there before you sewed me back up? A spare scalpel or something?”
Trying to distract myself was close to impossible. I didn’t even know if this man swung my way and here I was, contemplating grabbing him by his hair and shoving my pants down to see if he’d lower that mask back down and give me a good few licks so I could come.
My balls were tight, drawn up to the base of my shaft that was rapidly filling with blood as the seconds ticked by.
Fuck, abort mission.
“I’ll take you downstairs for an MRI. We’ll see if anything gets ripped out of you once the machine starts. How about that?’
“Hilarious,” I muttered.
It wasn’t.
“Weren’t you saying something about a walk?”
In a startling turn of events, Dr. Montgomery brought his wandering hand up to cup around my waist, entwining with his other in order to guide me back just enough for him to get a good look at me from a wider angle.
The front of my pants were already starting to tent. At this rate, there would be no excuse I could use to wave away the obvious, like my underwear bunching up awkwardly, or that we were simply at an odd angle and he was seeing things.
His hands flexed briefly, the pressure actually driving me wild.
I wanted these hands forcing me against a wall while driving a hard cock into my ass. Or propping me up while he took me from behind, doing all the hard work for us both while I dissolved into a moaning mess that could only hold on for the ride.
Oh my god.
Before I could actually embarrass myself with the moan threatening to burst past my lips, I slapped my hand over my mouth to cover it, not at all thinking with my brain how much attention that would draw from the unwitting participant currently hovering six inches away from me.
His gaze shot up to meet mine, eyes slightly narrowed in an effort to figure out what the fuck was wrong with me before it dawned on him by reading whatever flustered expression I currently had plastered to my face.
For a singular moment, I felt something pass between us. A silent question that I would’ve wholeheartedly answeredyesto, had it been vocalized.
Hell, had it beensuggested.
My entire body was entranced by the way his pupils dilated slowly, staring up at me with that same intensity as when he’dasked me about the price of my chains and refused to drop the subject until I answered him. We’d been interrupted back then, too soon to know what would’ve happened if I let it go further, if I actually indulged him with an answer and waited for a response in return.
He’d already been holding me hostage, and not just with his hands on me. I’d been unable to look away from him, like now, and could only manually force myself to breathe to keep from passing out on the floor like an idiot.
Without warning, he shoved away from me, quickly getting to his feet. My body was left cold, the places where his hands had been were pin-prickling with the remnants of his touch, scorched and now left to scab over.
He said nothing as he slammed his hand against the call button, pulling back from me in an instant once it lit up. “They’ll be by to help you back into bed.”
I reached out to grab at his arm, wrist, hand—anything—to stop him from leaving, narrowly missing when he turned and marched over to the recliner to snag his tablet on the way out of my room.
The moment he disappeared around the corner of the doorframe, all sense returned to me with the force of a slap to the face.
Shit.
What the hell did I just do?
CHAPTER 9
Silas
The doorto the scrub room swung open, voices from the OR fading as soon as the two nurses stepped out into the hallway, the door shutting behind them to seal the rest of the small transition room off from the rest of the hospital.
Nothing else, aside from the running water of the sink, could be heard.
Silence after a successful surgery was always blissful. One would argue nirvana-like.
