No Quarter (NOLA's Own #2) (17 page)

“Fuck. You’ve got the most amazin’ pussy, you know that? You wrap around me and grip me like you were made just for me.”

“I was,” I said simply.

“Too fuckin’ right you were,” he growled. “I fuckin’ own this cunt, don’t I, Kenna?”

“Yes.”

He ceased pushing. “Tell me.”

“You own my cunt, Phil. Only you. It’s yours.”

Gliding all the way in, the head of him pressed wonderfully into his spot.

“Oh, fuuuuuck,” I moaned.

Phil placed his hands on my back in between my bound arms, smoothing their way around, looping through them to reach under and hold my chest, lifting my upper body. I had to trust him to hold my weight, not to drop me on my face. First, one large hand and then the other spread wide, hot palms cradling my breasts. This pushed him just that little bit further inside, bumping into the mouth of my cervix.

“I’m gonna ride the fuck outta you,” he told me. “You ready for that?”

“Yes!” I cried out, trying to shift to take even more of him.

“Just relax,” he said softly. “I got you, okay?”

I eased my weight into his hands, and he started pumping me in long, slow, steady strokes. The momentum swung me back and forth. Increasing the pace, he gradually punched into me harder and harder, my body simply receiving and sliding against him, like a pendulum. He didn’t miss a beat. He just continued to pound into me with his relentless pace. The sound of wet skin slapping on wet skin, his harsh breathing, and my ever increasing whimpers and moans filled the silence.

An orgasm of epic proportions swelled within me and beat its way out of me. I couldn’t even try to keep up. After screaming with my release, I slumped over, my head too heavy a weight to hold up any longer.

He wouldn’t stop, pound, pound, pounding into me, until I tightened up once more, whimpering.

“Come for me, Baby Girl. One more time,” he panted, squeezing my tits hard, his fingers digging into the flesh.

I hope that’s going to leave some interesting bruises,
I thought, startling myself.

An incoherent cry worked its way over my vocal cords, filling my mouth and slipping past my lips. So deliciously wet and sore, I was thoroughly fucked by this point. I didn’t really think it was possible for me to have just
one more.
But his filthy words and gorgeous voice coaxed me high one last time, and he felt it, felt me squeezing and pulsing. He fucked me as hard as he could, slamming deep into me, the stinging sweet pain of him butting my cervix sending me over the precipice.

“Phiiilll!” I screamed, finding the strength to raise my head.


Fuuuck
!” he roared, pouring himself into me, pulling me back into his heaving chest.

His heartbeat thundered through me, his cock shuddering wildly inside.

After a few minutes of trying to catch our breaths, his right arm slid back to quickly unbind me while he supported me with his left. My arms flapped loosely to my sides as he tossed away the belt. The surge of blood to my wrists was painful. Sucking in a sharp breath, I tried to move my useless limbs.

“Don’t move,” he said gently, his hands massaging and squeezing my arms, making the sensation a million times more intense. “Are you all right?”

I nodded, unable to find my voice.

Holding me steady against him with one arm, his hand came up to cradle my face and turn me, forcing me to look into his eyes.

“Are you all right?” he repeated, his warm gaze searching mine.

“Yes,” I replied. “That was awesome, babe.”

He released a sigh. “I thought so, too.”

The tingles and pinpricks in my arms and hands reduced, and finally, I was able to move them. Stretching forward, I sank, exhausted, into the bed, and Phil tugged the blankets out from under me. Gathering me in his arms, he pulled us together, breast to breast.

“I was worried I’d freak you out,” he confessed softly. He slid his hand into my hair behind my ear, stroking his thumb along my jaw.

“Then, why’d you do it?”

“I wanted to see if you’d like it.”

“I’ve never done anything like that before.”

He pressed a kiss to my Third Eye. “If you really liked it, I’ll do it whenever you want.”

“Have you ever been restrained?”

I felt his lips curve into a smile against my forehead.

“No.”

“Would you let me tie you up?”

He was silent for a few beats and then said, “I’ll think about it.”

“Kill me now,” I groaned, resting my head on my forearms on my desk.

Stiff in some areas, sore in others, I was so fucking exhausted that I could cry. I’d gotten
maybe
eight hours of sleep over the last two days. I had one last patient to get through before I could head home. Thankfully, it was a quick manipulation and some acupuncture. I’d be finished within twenty minutes.

The appointment blew by.

“Thanks, Dr. MacGregor. I feel loads better.” Dazed, Mr. Ingles got dressed and headed out for the reception area.

“Anytime, Mr. Ingles.”

The twenty-minute drive home felt nineteen minutes too long. Yawning, I turned Gretchen into the driveway and slugged my way up the front steps. I was starving, but I simply didn’t have the energy to be bothered finding something to eat. So, I schlepped my ass up to my bedroom, dumped my bag on the floor, kicked off my sneakers, and face-planted on my bed.

I really should call Phil and let him know I’m home.
I will,
I told myself.
Right after I close my eyes for a few minutes.

I was halfway to an acid trip. My brain was that fried from lack of sleep.

When I opened my eyes next, a warm huge body cradled me, and the glow of my television filled the room. It was dark outside.

“Oh, shit!” I sat up quickly, rubbing my face with my hands.

“Fuck, you scared me!” Phil laughed, rubbing his hand over his heart.

My stomach rumbled viciously.

Pulling me back into his arms, my face against his chest, he hugged me tight. “I’m sorry I wore you the fuck out.”

“When did you get here?”

“Um…six? Alys came over, thinkin’ you were already at my place. She said your car was in the driveway.”

“Yeah…the last thing I remember was, I was about to call you. I guess I didn’t make it that far.”

Kissing the top of my head, he replied, “Nope. You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“What do you want?”

“I’ve got food…I think. Shit. I don’t even know. What time is it?”

“A little after midnight. There’s twenty-four-hour places—”

I pushed myself up. “Nah. I’ll see what we have here first. Did you eat?”

He smiled, his warm eyes sparkling. “I was waitin’ for you.”

“Damn, Phil…you should’ve eaten.”

He rolled his eyes. “I ain’t gonna die from skippin’ a meal.”

In the fridge, I found everything for omelets, and there was bacon, too.

As we dug in to the mad amount of food I’d made, he looked me over. I supposed he was checking to see if I really was all right.

“I guess I shouldn’t fuck you relentlessly during the week,” he conceded.

I nodded. “I think that might be a good idea—at least not two days in a row. I can’t function so well without at least five hours of sleep a night.”

“Yeah…I’m sorry, Baby Girl.”

I shrugged. “It’s not like I didn’t enjoy it. Is Lili home?”

“I think so. I heard her pygmy ass go into her room a while ago.”

We finished the food in silence, and Phil cleaned up the dishes while I moseyed my way upstairs to take a quick shower.

“Can I join you?” His voice floated in from the bathroom door.

“Yes, please,” I replied.

Full and feeling pleasant, I sighed happily when his hands slid over my wet skin. I wanted him to get me all riled up and fuck my brains out, but he simply washed me and then himself. When we got back into bed, he pulled me into his arms…and went to sleep.

Anal sex.

It was all I could think about after my conversation with Sheri. She had called me on my lunch break, telling me she was restocking her lube supply at a local sex shop.

“Still need me to pick some up for you?” she asked.

“Um…yeah, sure.”

“Just some glide or do you want numbing?”

“Eh?”

“Never mind. I’ll get you both.”

My last three patients had no idea that, inside my head, I was living in a world that was all about the many different ways Phil could give me his raging hard-on in my ass—in the shower; in the tub; on the bed, lying flat; sitting on his lap; facedown with my ass up while on all fours on the floor; bent over the kitchen counter—

Unhygienic!
Maybe not that one.

This has to be immoral, thinking like this at work! It’s unethical and wrong on so many levels. I should stop this right now.

Watching in the mirror, up against a wall—

Damn it!

When did I turn into such a fucking sex-o-holic?

I was making myself hot and bothered, just thinking about my man and all the wonderfully sinful things I
needed
him to do to me. The whole tying-me-up thing had unleashed something very unholy in me. I’d caught myself fantasizing about it at all hours of the day along with the fact that I’d
really
like to do it to him, too.

Make him helpless to me, maybe abuse him a little, tie him to the bed, make him beg me for everything—

Shit!

“Is it supposed to burn like that?” my patient, Ms. Roberts, asked as I jabbed a needle into the meat of her shoulder.

Quickly, I removed the offending needle. “Sorry. I must have missed the point. Here.” I went for it again, and the muscle started jumping as it was supposed to do the first time. “Better?”

She sighed. “Yeah, thanks.”

Get the man out of your head! You have to concentrate!

I finished with my last patient at two forty-five, and I was out the door before Lucy had even checked them out.

“Bye, Luce! See you on Monday!”

“Good-bye, Dr. MacGregor! Have a fantastic weekend!”

“You, too!” I called from outside the building.

This is bad. This has to stop. I can’t concentrate on my patients. All I think about is Phil. Seriously, I need to establish some boundaries here for myself. And if that doesn’t work, I might just have to kick him out of my bed during the week.

My heart griped a little at the thought, and even though my head agreed that it might be for the best, it also believed that option was only to be considered as a very last resort—because my head loved having him around, too.

It’ll pass once our relationship becomes more established, and we can think beyond being in each other’s pants.

Fuck, I hope that never happens.

Once home, I hopped in the shower and let the cool water try to work some sort of anti-libido magic.
What a crock of shit.

True to my word, I pulled out a gym bag Gloria had gotten me for Christmas last year that I never used, and I stuffed it full of clothes and items to have over at Phil’s place. I was going to have to pick up a few more essentials over the weekend. He was running out of toothpaste, and I could use some more coconut oil.

Traipsing through the backyard, I heard Phil’s voice roaring in fury. I could see him pacing back and forth along the patio while Jason calmly sat watching with amusement.

“Fuckin’
bullshit
!” Phil bellowed.

Jason spotted me and waved, smiling brightly. He was looking much better, even from this distance.

“Hey, Baby Girl!” he called out.

Phil whipped around, and I saw he was on the phone.

“Oy!” he barked, pointing at Jason.

“Yeah, yeah,” grunted Jason.

Phil shoved the phone at him and marched himself over to intercept me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

He pulled me to him, his heart racing with rage.

“Phil?”

“Jason and I have a radio interview on Sunday in Lafayette for the late-night heavy metal hour.”

“Okay. That’s great news, right?”

“No. It’s from ten to midnight. I won’t be home that night—”

“Oh, come on, babe.
One night
. You have work to do. When do you come home?”

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