Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty Two

Frost drops the buoy in front of me, the water rippling as it lands. He doesn’t say a word, but the command is clear when he grabs my hips and drags me toward it. I stumble forward, my hands landing on the smooth, rounded surface to steady myself. Before I can catch my breath, he pushes me down, bending me over so my chest presses against the buoy, my ass high in the air.

His hands grip my hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he adjusts me like a doll, spreading my legs wider. The vulnerability of the position makes my heart pound. I hear him shift behind me, the sound of water sloshing as he kneels. Then his hands are on me again, rough and demanding, grabbing my ass cheeks and spreading them apart.

His mouth crashes against me before I can even think. No hesitation. No softness. His tongue drags over my cunt with a raw, brutal precision that makes me cry out, my hands slipping on the buoy as I try to stay upright. The suddenness of it steals the air from my lungs. I gasp, my thighs trembling, every nerve ending lit up.

“Sir—” The word stumbles out before I can stop it, breathy and desperate. His tongue plunges inside me, fucking me with an unrelenting rhythm that sends shockwaves through my body. His grip on my ass is bruising, pulling me apart so he can get deeper, so he can take everything. The scrape of his stubble against my skin is maddening, the roughness amplifying every sensation.

“Don’t come,” he growls, his voice muffled, commanding, vibrating against my flesh. I’m nodding, shaking, my lips forming the word “yes” even as I know it’s impossible. My body’s betraying me, my hips grinding back against his face despite the bruising hold he has on me.