Page 88 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

Her breath catches as a flush creeps up her throat, painting her collarbones a beautiful pink. She hesitates for a second, her fingers trembling slightly as they find the top button of her shirt dress.

The faltering makes it real. My chest tightens with a strange mix of protectiveness and pure hunger.

She unbuttons it slowly, one by one, her eyes never leaving mine. With a soft rustle of fabric, she slips it off her shoulders, leaving her in just a black bra holding those beautiful tits.

I reach the nape of my neck and pull my t-shirt off in one swift move, dropping it beside me. The cool air of the living room hits my bare skin, but I barely feel it. I’m burning from the inside out.

She reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra. Letting the straps fall from her shoulders slowly, she drops the lace to the side.

Her breasts are so fucking beautiful. More than a handful, with rosy nipples that are peaked, making me lick my parched lips. I can’t help but imagine kissing her breasts, sucking on her nipples, tasting her. I grip the fabric of the sofa cushion, holding on to the last bit of self-control for both our sakes.

I unbutton my pants and wait for her next move.

She lifts the hem of her dress, gathering the fabric up her thighs. Agonizingly slow until the matching black panties come into view.

I make an appreciative noise low in my throat, a ragged sound I can’t suppress.

She slips her hand inside her panties. The moment her fingers make contact, her eyes immediately roll back in her head, a soft, breathless gasp escaping her parted lips.

“Keep your eyes on me.” My voice is strangled with desire, rough and demanding. I need her with me. I need to see her seeing me.

Her eyes snap open, heavy-lidded and burning.

Slow movements beneath the black lace of her panties show her hand moving.

I reach inside my boxers and pull out my cock. Her eyes drift down, her tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip as she tracks the movement. I grip my dick and stroke it, the friction a bit of relief against the buildup to this moment.

Fuck yes.

Sexy little sounds catch in her throat as her eyes keep finding mine, like she needs more. I’ve never experienced anything like this. I’m in serious trouble. I’ve never felt these feelings for a woman. Where healing her heals me. Where seeing her pleasure is more addictive than my own.

Making her feel good right now is imperative to me.

Her hand moves faster, her hips giving tiny, upward thrusts. So I do the same, matching her pace, wanting to come at the exact same time as her. Wanting to experience that blissful state together is more important than my next breath.

“Zac,” she whimpers, her grip tightening, her breath hitching. She’s right on the edge.

“I’ve got you,” I grunt, pushing my own pace, watching her face crumble with pleasure. “Go on, Hannah.”

When she finally comes apart, her head falls back against the cushions, her back arching slightly, and my name leaves her mouth. “Zac.”

“Hannah,” I groan back, fisting myself harder, riding the wave of her release as I come all over my stomach.

After we orgasm, neither of us moves. Both of us are breathing hard, looking at each other with heavy eyes as the reality of what just happened washes over us.

Once we’ve caught our breath, the tension softens. The hard, desperate edge is gone, replaced by something dangerously tender. We share a soft, tired smile. It’s a shared secret, a mutual understanding of the line we just treaded along without quite breaking.

I drag a hand down my face, letting out a long exhale, and grab my t-shirt to quickly clean up. Wiping my stomach, I toss the shirt toward the hallway, where the laundry is, then button my pants back up.

When I look back at her, she’s pulled her dress back up around her shoulders, looking a little small against the massive cushions of my sofa. The vulnerability is back, and I hate the thought of her feeling exposed or regretful.

I shift closer. I don’t touch her skin, but I rest my hand on the cushion right next to her hip.

“You okay?”

She nods, a small, genuine smile touching her lips. “Yeah. More than okay.”

I sigh, glancing at the clock on the wall. It’s getting late, and the longer she stays like this, the harder it’s going to be for me to keep my hands to myself.