She leans into the touch, her fingers curling into the front of my shirt as we step into the hallway.
The elevator ride is silent except for the soft ding when the door opens and the sound of our breath syncing up.
As soon as we get inside, Blue spins, backing me against the wall. Her mouth presses against mine, her tongue demanding entry, teeth grazing my lower lip.
I groan into the kiss, my hands sliding under her leather skirt and gripping her bare ass.
She's not wearing panties. I slide two fingers into her slick heat, and she whimpers, grinding down on my hand, coating my skin.
I break the kiss long enough to lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist. I carry her toward the bedroom, my mouth on her throat, tasting salt and vanilla.
She arches into me, raking her nails over my shoulders through my shirt.
We hit the mattress.
I follow her down, shoving the skirt up to her waist. The scab on her inner thigh glares under the bedside lamp, pink and raw. I brush my lips over it once, featherlight, then lift my gaze to hers.
"No more," I say against her skin. "No more hurting yourself."
She threads her fingers through my hair, tugging me up until our mouths are level again. "Then don't leave me."
"It's not that simple," I argue, flicking my tongue over the bruise on her neck and lightly sucking.
She arches into me, gasping, "Harder."
I obey, applying more pressure, until her body's quivering under mine, reacting how no one else ever has.
My mouth finds hers again while my hand slides between her thighs, fingers parting slick folds. She's already soaked, her clit swelling fast under my thumb.
She cries out into the kiss, her hips bucking. I circle slow, then faster, watching her face while her eyes flutter shut, lips parted, and cheeks flush.
"Tell me you own me, Dr. Mercer," she orders.
I push two fingers inside her, curling them against the spot that makes her thighs tremble, murmuring, "I own you, Bluebird."
"Mm," she moans and clenches around me.
My cock aches, trapped and leaking, but I don't rush. I want her to come apart first, want her to remember exactly whose touch makes her shake like this.
When she starts to tighten, breath hitching in short gasps, I pull my fingers free.
"Dr. Mercer," she whines in protest.
My ego spikes. I strip my shirt off, shove my slacks and boxers down just enough that my erection springs free, heavy and flushed, my tip glistening.
Blue reaches for me, guiding me to her entrance.
I sink in slow, inch by inch, until I'm buried deep.
She arches off the bed, nails digging into my back. I hold still for a second, letting her adjust, and feeling every flutter around me.
Then I move inside her, hard, deep, relentless with all the frustrations I've felt over the last few days and especially from what she put me through tonight.
She meets every thrust, legs locked around my hips, heels digging into my ass.
The bed creaks under us. Sweat slicks our skin. I drop my mouth to her throat, teeth grazing the old bite mark, then lower to her breast, sucking hard on one nipple until she keens.
"Red—fuck—don't stop?—"
