Reluctant Surrender (29 page)

She was out of her clothes and into the kimono-type robe lickety-split. She didn’t even bother folding her jeans and tee shirt, she just piled them on a side chair and went to the exam table. Using the metal-and-rubber step stool, she hopped up and waited. She hated the way the paper that covered the vinyl padding crinkled and crunched as she swung her bare legs back and forth in front of her. It didn’t take long for her palms to start sweating, so she shoved them under her thighs and continued to rock, only this time faster.

Two minutes that felt more like two hours ticked by and she wanted to bolt. The words “dangerous, sharp and hot” echoed in her mind. Hot? She wasn’t going to look. She wasn’t going—

Too late. Her eyes latched on to that ceramic pot and all kinds of ideas started swimming around in her head. Something was melting in there. She stopped rocking. Wax! It had to be wax. BDSMers used wax in sex play like vanilla couples used K-Y Jelly. That analogy got her thinking. Maybe if vanilla couples spiced things up with some wax on occasion they wouldn’t have a need for the K-Y. Hmm.

“Ms. Reneaux. It’s good to see you.”

She jerked to attention and was going to return the greeting, but one look at him and she wanted to die. He was dressed in a physician’s thigh-length white coat with a stethoscope laid around his neck so that the ear buds were on one side of his collar and the chest piece was on the other.

His dark good looks and massive body in that mode of dress did things to her she couldn’t even describe. His thick black hair, stubble-shadowed skin and killer smile completely undid her. “Ethan. Oh. My. God. You make an awesome doctor.”

“Ms. Reneaux.”

Hearing the quiet censure in his tone, she cleared her throat and refocused on the scene. “Sorry.”

She pulled her hands out from underneath her and plucked at the hem of her gown. Maybe if she didn’t look at him she could get through this. But she really wanted to look at him. Damn, he was gorgeous. “Good afternoon, Doctor White.”

He slapped a hand on the top of a stool and rolled it toward her. “I’ve gone over your chart,” he sat down, “but before we address why you’re here today, can you tell me if anything’s changed since the last time I saw you? Are you taking any new vitamins?”

“Nope.”

“What about your menstrual cycle. Still regular?”

“Yup.”

“Any new allergies?”

“N—yes! I think I’m allergic to kale.”

The look he gave her was bland. “You don’t say. I’ll make note of that before you leave.”

“Um, aren’t you going to tell me to stop eating it?”

“You’re a big girl. I should think you can figure out what’s best for you given your situation.” Standing, he pushed the stool away with his foot and instructed, “Now, lie back. I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck in this office all day. Am I right?”

Gee, with him in that coat she was thinking he might be able to talk her into it.

She stretched out on her back. With hands folded over her stomach and ankles crossed, she said, “I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Sure you do. There’s no need to be embarrassed in front of me. I’m your doctor,” he murmured, unclasping her hands and placing them at her sides. “You can tell me anything.” He lifted her one foot off the other and spread her legs apart.

A wicked thrill sizzled along her nerve endings. The butterflies were back to flutter low in her belly and the delicate flesh between her legs got hot and moist. She stared at the corrugated tiles on the ceiling and tried to think of something to say to him. Meh, why not the truth? “I have had this ache lately. It’s been very persistent.”

“I know. I read your chart.” He leaned over her and undid the side tie to her gown. “I need your arms out of this, Ms. Reneaux.”

She shifted and was surprised how careful he was to keep the gown in place over her breasts. The afforded modesty was sexier than if he’d bared her chest.

Slowly he checked her neck, collarbone and each arm. When he was done he looked into her eyes and quietly asked, “How long have you had trouble in the bedroom, Ms. Reneaux? What seems to be the problem? You can tell me.”

Oh, she’d tell him all right. He probably expected her to spill about how horny she was all the time around him. He’d already gotten that out of her, so…

“Erectile dysfunction.”

His head was down as he adjusted her gown lower on her breasts, and replied, “ED?” He nodded. “I can help you with that.”

He was still working the edge of the gown down and she automatically grabbed at it, holding it in place as she sputtered, “I-I— It’s not my erectile that’s dysfunctioning. It’s my husband’s and he’s not here today so I really don’t think you can help me.”

“Why?”

She stopped struggling with him and let go of the bunched-up gown. “Why what?”

“Why is his,” he cleared his throat and straightened out the gown edge, “erection dysfunctional?”

“How would I know? Maybe he pulled a groin muscle or something.”

“That’s not how it works, Ms. Reneaux. Let me have a look. Here,” he said. “Take hold of these handles while I do my examination.”

He showed her the metal bars that were on either side of the table, almost level with her ears. When she brought her arms up and wrapped her fingers around the steel handles, they were cold and daunting. “I don’t think I like these.”

He pulled the gown down so her breasts were fully exposed. Without taking his eyes off her chest he said, “We have another option. Would you like me to get out the restraints? I can’t have you fidgeting when I’m trying to work.”

“No.” For some reason she found herself gripping those handlebars tighter.

“Good. You have beautiful breasts, Ms. Reneaux, so I’m sure your husband has no complaint with them. Are they responsive to touch?”

“Yes.” Her toes curled and she was afraid he’d notice.

“I’d like to see for myself.”

“Where are you going?” She didn’t let go of the bars, but did lift her head to keep an eye on him. “Is that a refrigerator?” It was. A small stainless steel one that was built into the cabinets to one side of his desk.

“Yes. I’m old school when it comes to medicine. You don’t need fancy equipment to diagnose when Mother Nature will do.”

“An ice cube?”

He nodded and she eased her head back down to brace herself, but he didn’t return to her right away. He stopped to scoop up a towel, which he slung over his shoulder before he rummaged through a few drawers. She didn’t want to look. Instead she stared at the ceiling and couldn’t help rubbing her feet together. The anticipation was killing her.

“Let’s get started.” He’d put the ice in a paper cup. This, along with the towel, he set down on the table by her calf. “I need this lower,” he told her. Pulling the gown down, exposing her midriff, stomach and then the lower part of her belly. Her muscles tightened and pulled in. “Now, let’s test how responsive you are.”

She heard the clump and clack of the ice tossed around in the Dixie cup and closed her eyes. Waiting. It was going to be cold. Would he start at her neck and work down?

Her whole body stiffened. Ethan didn’t start at her neck. Nope. He went directly to her right nipple. Dragging the ice over the surging peak again and again until it was almost numb. After a few minutes he returned the ice to the cup and used the towel to further plump the hardened bead.

A blast of lust shot straight through her as an invisible thread inside her pulled, tightening up from her breasts to her belly and lower. Quaking and trembling. Thrumming to life like the twang of a tuning fork against her most sensitive nerve endings. She wanted to stretch and move into his hand as he worked, but before she got the chance he shifted.

Through half-closed lids she saw the metal clamps he pulled from his pocket and took a steadying breath. The closest she’d ever come to a set of those was a picture she’d seen once on the internet. Unlike those, which had looked like chip bag clips, the ones he held resembled small pliers, only the pincher parts were rounded into circles.

He had a hold of one clamp and set the other one with a length of chain down on her stomach. “I’m going to fasten this on you, Ms. Reneaux. It will feel tight, maybe even painful for a few minutes but eventually you’ll get used to it and when you do, that’s when I’ll take it off and we’ll see just how sensitive your swollen flesh is.”

She sucked in a breath, because it pinched like a son of a bitch, even though the wave of pain she felt was no doubt dulled by the ice. Grateful for that, she continued to measure her breathing. Reminding herself to keep calm as he repeated the same ritual with her left breast. When that clamp was firmly in place, she let out a sigh only to suck it back in. He had a third clamp that he was presently attaching to the length of chain pooled on her stomach.

“W-where does that go?”

“On another part of your body that needs to be tested. I’m going to take this down farther. The gown slid past her hips, thighs and… “W-what are you doing?”

“My job. Relax.”

How could she? He was—oh dear, his warm palm landed on her knee. He slid it up her inner thigh, between her legs and nudged.

“Open.”

Her heart hammered.

“A little more.”

Her breath went shallow and weak.

“Almost perfect. Wider.”

She quivered, but did what she was told.

“Very good.”

She closed her eyes and then gasped, because in one purposeful move he fit the last clamp on her. Intimately pinching the soft flesh of her clit. Catching the pulsing blood and holding it there in a suspended wave of torturous and painful desire.

“Breathe deeply, Ms. Reneaux. That’s right.”

“I-It’s too m-much.” She didn’t know what to do first. She wanted to squeeze her legs shut or bring them up or maybe her arms down, but when she shifted even slightly, she gasped again. All these clamps were connected. The ones on her breasts not only tightened, but so did the one between her legs.

“Breathe.”

She did, but it wasn’t easy. Every muscle in her body clenched and beat in a panic rhythm driving her out of her mind. She couldn’t take it.

“I think you’re doing very well, Ms. Reneaux, but I’d like to make sure.” Two fingers eased inside her, slowly but firmly opening her taut muscles as he pushed all the way up. “Responsive you are here. Are you generous? Are you a good girl? Do you welcome your husband’s attentions, Ms. Reneaux? Do you frequently spread your legs for him?”

Colin quaked from inside out. The tightness of the clamps, the tension, pain and wonder all combined were throwing her senses into overdrive. And the way he touched her, stroked her deep inside teased her in such a way she wanted to squirm. Buck. Cry.

“Answer me.”

“I—n-no.”

“Breathe,” he repeated. “We’ll have to fix that because you want to be a good girl, don’t you? You want to be a generous girl. Let’s give this a try. Do you,” he pushed in deep and whispered, “respond well to this?”

She nearly came up off the table. He’d curled his fingers inside her and found that place again. The one from the other night and as if it remembered his brand of expertise, the area went hot and sharp pangs gripped her hard. Squeezing. Strangling. Until he gently rubbed back and forth. Soothing and stealing all her will to care about anything he did to her. Vaguely she was aware that the pain from the clamps had settled into a fuzzy fire and with that last conscious thought her legs dropped open. All the tension eased out of her and she closed her eyes.

“Ethan…”

“Doctor White,” he reminded as he moved in and out her. The sawing motion brought her back to the present.

“Doctor—ooh, White. I—Ah!”

He shifted her and the pull on the clamps was instantaneous.

“Breathe.” He worked in a steady rhythm. “Slow and easy. Here,” he said, undoing one nipple clamp and then the other. The blood rushed back to that hardened flesh in a boiling rage that titillated her in a restless and incomprehensible way. She wanted to get up and run and yet stay put and wallow in the mire of this sexual haze.

“Ms. Reneaux, bring your hands down to your breasts.” After she did, he said, “That’s right. Can you feel how responsive they are?”

She barely touched herself with her fingers hovering over her breasts. Until skin met skin and a brush of her palm sent her reeling. She shivered and jerked and panted.

“How about this?” he asked huskily. He was focusing in on that sweet spot inside her as he leaned down and released the last clamp, which caused her world to explode. Just like her blood did as it rushed and pulsed and raced and ricocheted. “Breathe. Breathe and you’ll be lifted higher. Do it.”

From out of the fog she heard him. She listened. She groaned and flexed and used her body to beg for his attention. Her grasping fists annihilated the paper that covered the table, while her hair skated across it again and again as she shifted, ached, burned and begged. “Oh God. More. Yes. Harder.”

“That’s right. Good. That’s it. Like this,” he encouraged, moving faster and faster. “Take it. Do it. Fall apart. Fall apart now.”

Again she did as she was told. Her legs collapsed and her muscles eased all the way open until her body crumbled around his hand. Intense and sustained contractions mercilessly taunted her with the promise of release. Holding her suspended until small strokes began soothing the tension. Soon one mini orgasm followed another, to peak and then ebb, peak and ebb. The slow and thorough process was building inside her. Pushing and punishing until it was too much. She hissed in a breath. “Oh Lord, I-I can’t. It’s— I—”

“Ride it. Come on. Hips up. Up.”

She tilted. The extreme tension that pulled from her feet to her shoulders was nothing she’d ever felt before. The residual effects of the lust-filled pain from earlier. The pressure of the clamps had a good hold of her, but there was something else pulsing to life within her. Something dark and seductive. Something that made her commit to the experience. To embrace the pain and revel in what he was doing to her.

With one rasped-out breath, she gave herself over to him completely.

Suddenly pinpoints of light shot in flickers behind her eyes as an escalation of adrenaline climbed. Higher and higher. Lifting her just as he’d said it would until she didn’t think she could take any more and then? Everything burst. The lights, the adrenaline and the climb as she spun outside herself. Spiraling as wave after wave of contractions pumped her desire out, warm and wet between her legs.