“That’s not going to fucking happen.” I work my fingers in a slow, merciless rhythm, crooking forward on every stroke as I drag my tongue back across her clit. I feel her fight it and lose.
Her free hand tangles in my hair as her hips start moving with me, chasing the friction, and I give it to her. More pressure, deeper, faster. Watching Polina Kozlov lose control is the best thing I’ve ever had a front-row seat to.
“Beautiful,” I murmur. “Fucking beautiful.”
I feel the moment she stops fighting it. Her thighs switch from resistance to desperation, and her hips roll hard against my face. Her fingers yank my hair, pulling me closer instead of holding me off. She wants this. She’s wanted it since she opened the door and saw me standing there, and we both know it.
I increase the pressure, drive my fingers deeper, and feel her come apart around them, clenching hard, her body shaking. A muffled sound tears out from behind her palm that I feel more than hear. She rides it out with her thighs shaking on either side of my head, and I stay with her until the last shudder passes.
Then I stand up.
She’s breathing hard, looking at me with dark eyes, and still holding onto the edge of the table with white knuckles.
“Such a good doctor,” I murmur. “So used to holding it together.”
“Don’t call me that,” she reaches for me.
“Ask nicely,” I say.
“Now, Lev. Right now.” Her voice has gone rough and shaky. She reaches for me, gets her hand around my cock, strokes once, and the noise that comes out of me is not something I’m proud of. “Now, Lev.”
“You want my cock inside you? I need to hear it.”
“I’m not saying that.”
I pull back and hold still. She digs her nails into my arm. I don’t move. She wiggles her hips, trying to force it, and I hold my position and wait her out.
“I want it,” she finally concedes. “Fuck me, Lev.”
I line up against her and push inside in one slow stroke. She’s tight and soaking and perfect, and I have to brace a hand on the table and breathe through it. She digs her nails into my forearm and rolls her hips impatiently, because even now, like this, she’s still trying to hold back.
I pull back and drive into her harder this time while she grabs my shoulder to stay upright. She bites down on it to keep the sound in, and I feel her teeth through my shirt. Whatever was left of my patience is gone.
“You’re taking me so well,” I rasp. “Made for me.”
I set a pace that isn’t careful or slow, and she meets every stroke. Her legs lock around my hips to pull me deeper. I feel every sound she swallows against my neck. She’s hot and impossiblytight, and she keeps clenching around me like her body is trying to keep me from pulling back. I’m going to lose control.
“Look at me,” I order.
She lifts her head. Her pupils are massive as she holds my gaze while I fuck her. The image of her lips parted and her cheeks pink will stay with me for the rest of my days.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” she accuses.
“Yes.” I drive into her again.
“You’re so fucking perfect for me.”
She makes a sound, and I feel it vibrating against my skin.
“Stay,” I order, low. “Right here.”
I wrap one hand around her throat, not squeezing, just holding, and feel her pulse hammer against my palm before I slide my thumb between us, find her clit, and swipe across the little nub.
Her body jerks, but I don’t let her pull away. I hold her right there. Her nails score down my back. She comes with her face crushed against my shoulder, her body shaking, clenching so hard it steals my control.
I drive in deep, holding onto her hips, and stay there while my orgasm moves through me. For a moment, the only sounds in the room are our breathing and the noise from the hallway.
Then, her pager goes off.
