Page 69 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

“Lift up,” I rasp roughly.

She braces her hands on my shoulders and raises her hips. I slide the sweats down carefully, feeling the heat radiating off her skin, mindful of her ankle. The pants pool at her feet, and I’m left staring at matching blue satin panties.

Fuck my life.

I should look away. Should focus on grabbing the nightgown, putting it on, and covering her.

But instead, my hands slide up her calves, over her knees, stopping at the tops of her thighs. Her skin is impossibly soft and warm beneath my palms.

“You’re killing me,” I admit.

“Good,” she breathes shakily. “Because you’ve been killing me all day.”

I look up, and the desire in her eyes nearly undoes me completely. I imagine myself moving forward and kissing her hot skin, starting at her stomach, just above her panties. My hands tighten on her thighs. I have to physically remind myself why I can’t.

“We should get you dressed,” I say.

“Should we?” She threads her fingers into my hair, gripping it. “Or should we do something else?”

Double fuck.

I groan against her skin on her thigh, fighting every part of me that’s screaming to lay her back on that bed and taste every inch of her. “Hannah…”

“I want you,” she begs. “I know it’s fast, and wrong. If you don’t want this, that’s okay. I just need you to know that I do.”

I pull back, looking up at her. “I want you so fucking badly, it’s painful,” I confess as I cup her face. “But not tonight. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

Disappointment flashes across her features, but she nods. It cuts me deeply that I’m making her feel rejected.

I rise from my knees, grabbing her nightgown. “Arms up.”

She does as I ask, and I slip the cotton over her head, my knuckles brushing her skin as I pull it down, covering her delectable body. She shivers, and so do I. The entire process is torture; every touch of her skin making it harder to maintain control.

When she’s finally dressed, I grab the edge of the covers. “In.”

She climbs onto the bed, settling against the pillows. I put a pillow under her foot. Now I should leave. Say goodnight and walk out the door.

And I will, but I can’t seem to move, so I tuck a loose piece of hair behind her ear, and she brings her lips to mine. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” she whispers against my mouth, and I don’t hold back.

I bleed everything I can’t put into words into this kiss. All the want, fear, and confusion. Her mouth opens, her tongue sliding over mine, and I swallow the small whimper that crawls up her throat.

My hand finds her neck, feeling her pulse thump against my palm. I trace a line with my thumb from the top of her jaw to the base of her neck, feeling her body quiver under my touch.

“Fuck, Hannah,” I groan against her lips.

“Touch me,” she whispers. “Please, Zac.”

Mindlessly, my hand slips down to the top of her breast, just a few inches, and—

Fuck. No.

I shift my touch down to her blanket-covered thigh. “Not tonight.”

“You’re very stubborn.”

“You have no idea.” I kiss her again, softer this time.