The Right Treatment (12 page)

Matt woke first. He felt his cock react to the glory of the soft curves he was wrapped around and his first thought was to get the hell out of the bed. Aoife had been violated enough, she didn’t need to wake up to an octopus grabbing a feel wherever he could. But as he moved away slowly, Aoife’s bottom seemed to follow him, missing the heat of his body. He was nearly out over the edge when she spoke.

“Don’t leave me. Hold me. Please.” With her words, every intention of doing the right thing drained from his body and when she pushed back into him, pressing her beautiful bottom against his erection, he was lost. He kissed the back of her neck and Aoife’s response was to move her hair so he could get at it more easily. She shimmied out of her panties. Matt knew what she wanted was to feel alive. He could do that. But could he do it and emerge unscathed? That he very much doubted. Every time he let down the barriers, she got under his skin more and more.

“What do you want me to do, Aoife?” He knew the answer, but he needed her to say it, to ask for it. Because already he felt he had crossed too many lines. Her silent consent wasn’t enough.

“Fuck me, Matt. Make me feel wanted.”

“Wanted? I’ve wanted you for years. But are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Matt didn’t need another invitation, but he did need the bathroom, and to go condom hunting. He wasn’t even sure if he had any. Both her tests and his own regular six-month tests had come back clear and she was using the coil, but it was his job to act responsibly, especially after all the lectures he had given her about her sexual health. When he returned, armed with condoms, he slipped back in beside her, savouring her warmth and softness. She was lying on her side, facing him.

“Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them,” he told her. This was for her. He was going to make Aoife feel good. If she had freedom to roam, she would feel obliged to reciprocate. With a light whimper of pleasure, Aoife obliged without argument.

“Don’t move them, or I’ll spank you.” His words had the desired effect. He’d seen the effect of spanking on her, and while her rational mind railed up against it, her body, as always proved so susceptible to it. Her hips made an involuntary, inviting wiggle, pressing against his groin. He moved his hand, first stroking her beautiful, full breasts. The nipples peaked and tensed at the first touch. He lightly flicked his thumb over first one, then the other and he heard the small groan she tried to stifle. He played them until her breathing became laboured and erratic. Then he trailed his hand slowly down, tickling lightly, then massaging, then stopping as he found her neatly trimmed mound. He breathed in deeply. He had just attained Nirvana and he was in no hurry to get out of there. First he slipped his index finger through the moist, silky slit. She felt so warm and welcoming that he had to restrain himself and force his finger to work that stiff erect nub. He was dying to probe farther, deeper, but he knew he needed to savour it. Both for her and him. Dammit, he had waited so long; he didn’t want it to be over too soon.

But fuck, when she pressed her pleasure point against his finger, she made it so hard for him to show restraint. He knew if he urged on, she would hungrily suck his fingers right into her core. And damn, he wanted to do just that. But he forced himself to circle her nub, which was alive and practically jumping in his hand. He alternated soft and firm pressure until her moaning told him she was on the edge, then he applied even firmer pressure, feeling her legs straighten and tense and her torso become momentarily rigid before becoming totally relaxed with a loud moan.

“Now, Matt,” she pleaded, widening her legs and greedily grabbing his cock with one of her hands. But he was only starting.

“Uh oh, I told you to keep your hands still; place them above your head now. Move them again and I will tie them,” Matt said.

Aoife just moaned more pleasure as he rolled her onto her tummy. He raised her hips on top of a couple of pillows, positioning her delectable rump at its maximum advantage. God, how he wanted to eat that ass. He leaned down and nipped it with his teeth. Then he spanked her bottom firmly but without intentions of causing real pain. Aoife raised her buttocks, welcoming the slaps that he rained down rapidly. She grabbed the top of the headboard, and he knew it was so she wouldn’t give into the temptation of reaching back.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” Matt reminded her. But he didn’t expect it, not the way her body was lapping it up. To his amazement, her body started to tense as it had only moments earlier. He wondered if spanking could push her over the edge and fascinated, he proceeded to test it by alternating smacks and rubbing. As his hand slammed down in his hardest blow yet, Aoife came, screaming, caught in that wonderful world of pain and pleasure combined.

Her folds were all creamy when he touched them again and her nub had swollen to a massive, responsive centre of electricity. Each touch sent jolts through her. He remembered her response to anal manipulation and he tentatively rubbed her back hole. Aoife responded by opening up for him and his brain and cock went into overload. He had no doubt she would let him penetrate her fully, properly. But not this time. She needed to be treated carefully now. With a finger moistened by an abundance of her own juices, he pressed his thumb past the tight ring, to the sounds of her welcoming groans as she eased his entry by pressing back against him. Using his fingers, he manipulated her clit and within seconds, Aoife came again, her tight hole closing in around his thumb, seeking her pleasure there. He felt each spasm of her climax as she continued to grab onto his thumb, each jerk of her hips was met by a spasm in her anus and the climax seemed to go on and on.

He was so definitely going there next time.

Removing his finger, he rolled Aoife around, moving her hands back by her sides. Much as he would have loved to take her from that aesthetic angle giving him access to her beautiful behind, he wanted to see her while they made love. Yes, he was very definitely making love with her. He had waited too many years for it to be anything less.

She looked so beautiful with her flushed cheeks and shining eyes. His eye caught sight of the bruise on her cheek, spreading right to her eye, purple in the centre, but already fading and going green and brown around the edges. He touched it very gently.

“Does it hurt much?” he asked. Aoife shook her head.

“No, forget it, it’s fine. Honestly.” She moved her head and kissed his fingers, then nipped lightly. He brought his mouth down on hers and probed with his tongue, savouring the taste he had so long yearned. While their mouths danced he managed to get between her legs and her hands greedily pulled his boxers away, finding his erect shaft. Matt exhaled loudly as her soft hands took a firm grip on his member, massaging it up and down and twisting it round. He had to have her. Right now. He almost forgot to stop and roll on the condom. As soon as he was sheathed, he pushed in to her sweet, sweet chamber. Aoife was soaking and even with the condom creating its barrier, he pushed in with ease. Her hips arched to grab him deeply. He was in heaven. His arousal was at such a point he was almost afraid to move for a moment or two until he adjusted to the pleasure. He couldn’t but be grateful for the condom helping him to keep it together, had he felt that wetness bare, he knew he would have been lost. Out of control.

Aoife thrust her hips greedily, urging Matt to up the pace, but he kept it slow for a few minutes, savouring her. She smelled great, tasted great, and felt fan-fucking-tastic. He felt her fingernails scoring his back, pulling him in tighter, and he withdrew a little and slammed his cock in hard, repeating it over and over. He could feel her pussy pulsate around him.

“Come for me. Now,” he ordered. And his words seemed to set off an avalanche as she tightened and throbbed around his cock.

Don’t come yet, don’t come yet,
he instructed his overeager member. He tried thinking about work, but the only image that came to mind was that of Aoife blindfolded on his examination couch and that definitely was not helpful. He started thinking of putting out the trash and held his breath waiting for her spasms of orgasm to subside. He exhaled with relief, having survived round one.

Her face and chest were flushed with the aftereffect of the orgasms, her skin glistened with beads of moisture. How could it be possible for anyone to look so good in the heat of passion, just-slept-in hair everywhere and with a purple bruise on her cheek? And yet she looked incredible. His Aoife. It had been a long time since he had permitted himself to think like that, and he liked it. No, he loved it. He would even go so far as to say he loved her. He wanted to tell her that, but he didn’t dare. Damn it, those daft romantic thoughts were making him lose control again. He just had to fuck her harder; it was no longer a choice, but a need. He plunged in hard and fast, biting softly on her nipples, first one then the other.

It seemed Miss Devine liked it rough, because she was off again, moaning and grinding into him. It was too much; he picked up the pace as much as he dared until he felt her tighten around him then with relief, he allowed himself to let go, driving himself as deep as possible as he deposited the proof of her irresistibleness inside her with a force he didn’t know was possible.

Matt flopped down on the bed beside Aoife. They lay there, side by side, exhausted and spent, not talking. After the headiness of orgasm, his brain began to rationalize. Of course he couldn’t love her. He didn’t even know her any more, not properly. He loved a memory of her. While a little of him couldn’t help wishing they could find their way back to that, he knew it was impossible. Too much had happened since. He was glad now that he hadn’t told her his stupid thoughts in the throes of passion. He would have made a complete ass of himself. While Aoife had sought out his comfort last night and this morning, it was simply because he was the only one there. He knew she hated him most of the time, and couldn’t wait to get out of there; she had made that much clear only yesterday. Granted, he had made her feel like that. He’d had to. Otherwise she could be dead. By saving her, he feared he had lost her.

Chapter Ten

The silence was killing Aoife. She’d had more than her share of men, more than she cared to remember, but this was definitely the most awkward post-coital moment of her entire life. What the fuck had she been thinking? Since Matt McDaid had walked back into her life he had been many things: Doctor, disciplinarian, dictator, jailer, and saviour, and even at times sexy bastard. But she could never accuse him of being tender. Not like the old Matt.

Normally, Aoife didn’t want tender—nine times out of ten she wanted to sneak off early and pretend it didn’t happen. And yet she couldn’t help the tears that were pricking at her eyes now as Matt lay there, lost in his private (and judging by the expression on his face, unpleasant) thoughts. Although they shared a bed, they might as well have been on different planets; there was no connection. She really needed his arms around her.

For once, she wondered if she had left the same bad taste in men’s mouths by her famous disappearing act. She had never thought of it like that before, always assuming that since they were men, a good romp was as much as they were interested in. Now she wasn’t so sure. It was certainly different being on the needy side of the fence for a change. Aoife didn’t like it one bit. When her alarm clock buzzed a short while later, it was a relief to her. She plastered on her happy face.

“Well, Dr. McDaid, your bedside manner was exemplary this morning, but I for one need a run and then I have work.” Even as she spoke her flippant words, she silently begged he would show some recognition of what had happened between them. Even if he just tried to get one last kiss or asked her how she was feeling. Anything at all.

But instead of warmth, the expression on Matt’s face could have had the entire Ireland rugby team down on its knees, withering in terror.

“I forbid you to leave the apartment today. Is that clear?” “No,” Aoife replied. She hoped her voice was as firm as her resolve. She was done with Dr. McDaid. She had mucked up badly by sleeping with him; he obviously had no desire to have any sort of relationship with her beyond disciplinarian and she was a fool to think otherwise. It was clear that he didn’t care for her; he was concerned about his success with her. The two occasions that their relationship had slipped over the boundary had left him distant and her confused. How many rejections did she need to get the message? He looked livid at her refusal. Fear of what he might do almost made her relent, but Aoife forced herself to continue.

“I’ve played by all the rules, Matt. I’ve run until my lungs burned and my body wanted to crash. I’ve gone to the clinic day in, day out. I’ve researched every damn non-prescription drug known to man and tabulated the effects of it on the human body. Congratulations, you’ve cured me. The most I will ever take again is a couple of drinks or paracetamol. But I need to go to the centre today. If I don’t, I will spend the rest of my life in fear of every poor sod who has turned to drugs to try to escape the shit hand life has dealt them. I don’t want to end up like you, passing judgment on users without seeing the person or the cry for help underneath. I don’t know when you changed. There was a time you were a compassionate man. You had the makings of a great doctor. Now you might heal the body, but many ailments come from the soul. You don’t even see the soul anymore.”

Even as she spat the words out, Aoife was willing her mouth just to shut the fuck up. She had no idea what possessed her and she braced herself for the inevitable retribution on her bottom. She was way out of line and she knew it, lashing out at him just because she was hurt at his rejection. To her amazement, he just stared at her. She wished the bed wasn’t pushed in tight to the wall with him on the outside. Gauging her escape options, Aoife scurried to the bottom of the bed, getting out that way. Matt made no attempt to stop her. He made goldfish motions, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, but no words came out.