Page 49 of The Doctor

That pained look was gone as she watched my cock bob heavily between us. It morphed into something akin to fear as I grabbed her ankle and yanked her to me. And that fear fell away into a blissful curse as I swiped my tongue across her slit.

I wanted to capture her curse, hold it close, but my mouth was otherwise occupied. I drove my tongue into her sweet center, letting her taste coat me, soothe me, cover me in my own kind of bliss.

With teeth and tongue, I drove Clara into a frenzy. Until the storm between us raged and roared. Until her poor, swollen clit could take no more, and I shoved two fingers inside her, pulling from her a scream as she bucked and convulsed against my hand.

She had tears in her eyes when I dropped her leg and crawled over her. Those sweet little doe eyes, staring up at me like I was a dream.

I was her fucking nightmare, just like she was mine.

Because I couldn’t stop wanting her.

“Zee?” She said my name like a plea, and it broke me from the spell she cast over me. I lowered my body to hers, captured her mouth once more, gave her a taste of her pussy on my lips and tongue.

My favorite thing in the world.

Her hands smoothed over my bare skin, gripping, scratching, pulling at me like she would rip me to shreds. And she would, I knew. She’d tear me to pieces.

And I’d let her.

I’d let her keep every piece of me.

As long as I could keep her.

Warm, delicate fingers wrapped around my cock, and I froze in place, the sensation too much. I stared down into Clara’s pretty brown eyes, then watched them darken as I covered her hand with mine.

I guided the tip of my cock to her center. Slid it along the mess that covered her front to back. The mess I’d made of her.

The mess I’d caused, as I took the one thing I knew I couldn’t have.

My eyes dropped shut, and I curled my head into the warmth at the crook of her neck. Without entering her, I stroked our hands over my dick, each forward motion nudging into the dark cavern I so desperately wanted to disappear inside.

I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

But I couldn’t stop myself from jerking off. From tightening my grip. From squeezing and stroking until the feel of her palm and her pussy was too much.

Lightning zipped along my spine, and my cum shot out of me with little to no warning at all, covering every inch of her pussy as sharp breaths heaved from my chest. She tightened her own grip, pulled and clawed and moaned as she tore into me, begging me without words to give her what I could not.

I couldn’t fill her with my cock.

I couldn’t shoot my cum into her tight cunt.

That didn’t stop me from spreading it all over her, though. From gathering my cum and smearing it across her, from the sweet haven between her legs to her stomach and her breasts. I kissed her like not doing so would kill me. I held her like letting go meant losing the one thing in the world I truly loved.

I loved this girl, in ways I knew I shouldn’t.

I loved her, and I always would.

Clara fell asleep in my arms, her body spent and covered in my release, nothing but a light blanket over us to keep the cool air from tickling our naked skin. I slept soundly at her side until the morning light trickled in the small windows, rousing me from dreams I didn’t want to let go of. I pulled her closer to my chest, only for those dreams to turn into a solid thumping of my heart.

She wasn’t there.

Instead of my pretty little hurricane, there was nothing but a throw pillow held in my arms. Instead of her warm, naked body beneath mine, there was nothing but the white smear of our release, covering the dark fabric of my couch.

She’d left me.

All the hurt I’d seen in her eyes last night pounded through me.