Play Doctor: Dream Machine Part 13

Rebecca sat in mute disbelief following Kurt's confession. She'd wanted him for a lifetime though she'd tried to deny it. Her overwhelming infatuation made it easy to pretend he meant the sweet words the way they sounded. But he was generous and kind by nature. He'd never reject her after exposing her girlish crush.

Especially since he intended for them to be partners.

Opening her mouth to refuse him again-she couldn't bear being a pity f.u.c.k, not even for the sake of their experiment-he surprised her by guiding her mouth to his for a rich, drugging kiss. Her breath caught in her lungs. The simple glide of his lips against hers seemed more intimate than anything else they had done together.

Profound and personal, he couldn't fake this kind of emotion.

He convinced her with his touch.

Indignation and pride melted away as her nature took control.

"Mmm." She purred against his mouth as he alternated a long lick with a gentle bite. The contrast captivated her. No one had ever treated her like this before. Rebecca felt cherished and hunted simultaneously.

Her body cried out, begging her to stop running and submit.

"That's right, baby. Lean on me." As though he could sense her resistance fading, his hand curled around the nape of her neck. She whimpered when he ended their first, fantastic kiss.

Kurt nestled her tighter against his chest. Then he whispered in her ear, "What did you tell me? While you tried to remember the dream? You said you felt protected. Follow your instincts. You know I'll take care of you.

That's the best gift I've been given in a long, long time. Maybe ever. Will you trust me now, Becca? Trust yourself, please."

Every gut intuition confirmed the truth of his declaration. His concern swaddled her, sheltering her. She relaxed. Calm certainty exposed her objections as an excuse.

This situation had nothing in common with her mother and the producer.

Kurt would never hold this experiment against her when it came to their professional relations.h.i.+p. In fact, he'd used the opportunity to help her. Her mind had convinced her heart that he couldn't be attracted to her as a means of protection. Now, she couldn't refuse the barest hint of desperation buried in his plea. It didn't seem possible a man like him would beg for anything. His intensity crashed through all her resistance.

There was only one possible answer. Only one possible outcome.

"Yes." The reply sprung from her lips before she could change her mind. But the truth would never change.

"I trust you. I trust us."

"Thank you, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good," he whispered against her ear. "I promise you'll enjoy this."

She whimpered, unsure of what to do. Her mind urged her to back off, to find her self-control but, too far gone, her body refused to listen. There weren't enough cold showers in the world to restore her sanity this time.

She couldn't fight both herself and Kurt.

One nod broadcast her surrender. He seized the moment.

He shot to his feet, then collected her into his arms. He crossed the room to his mammoth desk in three strides. When he deposited her on top of the s.h.i.+ny surface, she squealed at the jarring sensation of her backside and thighs landing on the cool desktop.

"Shh, baby." He kept one hand on her, stroking her, steadying her, while he reached into his top drawer to grab something light and flexible.

"What are you doing?" Some of her sense returned while he checked the object in his hand. She couldn't think when he invaded her s.p.a.ce, touching her, igniting riots of overwhelming l.u.s.t.

"It's a measuring device similar to the probe in the laboratory. Except I designed it for remote use." A wicked grin illuminated his face as he stepped closer once more.

He placed the tool on her outstretched palm so she could study it. The thin-walled cylinder, made out of the stretchy material he'd invented for the probe covering, seemed too insubstantial to be of much use but held up under her exploratory squeezes and tugs. Clear, it provided visibility to the circuits, receptors and transmitters inside but could have fooled her tactile senses if her eyes had been closed. It felt like warm skin. Each end of the tube had an opening.

Suddenly, she realized what he intended.

"You'll wear it, while you..." She couldn't finish the statement. Blood rushed to her face.

"Yes, Becca. It's a sheath. I need to measure your reactions while I f.u.c.k you." She hated her telling flinch at his clinical description. Unsure if desire roughened his voice or if he forced himself to the duty, she hesitated to question her judgment. For a moment, when he had kissed her with such honest pa.s.sion, their connection had seemed like more.

Kurt had never mentioned tenderness or emotion, though. His language revolved around needs. Partners.h.i.+p, desire and mutual satisfaction. All those things, he had pitched to her. She could see that clearly now. Afraid she wasn't wired for such a phlegmatic relations.h.i.+p, Rebecca wished she had more time to erase any lingering doubts but, in all honesty, the answer wouldn't matter.

As she had resolved earlier, she would take what she could get for now and fight to keep her emotions separate. The reminder he also did this to advance the development of the Dream Machine had her body cooling and sanity returning.

"Dr. Foster, I don't know if this is the best way."

"Don't be frightened, Becca." He began to unfasten his pants. "I'll never hurt you."

Maybe not on purpose. When his gaze met hers, the longing his bottomless grey eyes leveled at her sucked her back into the moment.

"I've waited so long to take you, I'm afraid I can't restrain myself anymore. Tell me now if you can't do this. We can end the experiment right now." As he spoke, he dropped his belt on the carpet then tugged down his zipper.

Rebecca's heart jumped as she caught a flash of tan abs through the gap in his pants. He left the smooth black slacks unb.u.t.toned and open where they rode low on his trim hips. She followed the light sprinkling of hair, visible between the bottom of his bunched-up sweater and the top of his dress pants, to the point it disappeared beneath the opening of his fly.

She didn't say anything at all to discourage him.

She definitely didn't object.

Unmindful of the silk robe gaping open in front, Becca sprawled on the desk, watching him with desperation mirroring his own. Kurt stepped closer, relis.h.i.+ng the glimpse of creamy skin between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and the enticing flesh below. Approaching the edge of the desk, he settled her against his chest. Immediately she leaned forward, burying her face against his shoulder, nuzzling into the fuzzy cashmere.

"You like this sweater, don't you?"

She moaned as her hands came up to his chest and fisted in the material. With her cheek pressed against him, she answered. "G.o.d, yes. It fits you like a glove. I can see the contours of your chest and the muscles in your arms. I love the way it smells and how it stroked my skin when you accidentally brushed against my arm while handing me case files one day last winter. Ever since then I've dreamed of it. It's so soft, and you're so hard underneath."

When he tucked his hand beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him, a furious blush spread over her skin as though she hadn't meant to say so much.

"I've noticed you watching me when I wear it, Becca. That's why it's my favorite."

"I didn't realize I was so obvious."

"Don't be embarra.s.sed, baby. I loved knowing you looked. Besides, it made me feel better about l.u.s.ting after your s.e.xy shoes every day."

Amazed they could laugh at a time like this, warmth spread through him. They suited each other so well.

How could he ever detach himself from this experience and go back to the way things had been before?

"I hate that you understand all about me but I never know what you're thinking. You have some walls of your own, Dr. Foster."

The vulnerability in her voice drew Kurt from his thoughts. He considered telling her just what he'd been wondering but it would sound crazy. The realization of all his hard work and the intensity of the moment had made him sentimental. It skewed his perspective.

"Right now, the sweater's got to go. I need to feel you against me."

Reaching behind his head, he grabbed a handful of the cashmere covering his back. He tugged it over his head in one swift movement, mimicking the precise gesture Becca had imagined last night.

The dream had been vivid and detailed. He'd always suspected the depths of her sensual nature but now he'd confirmed a pa.s.sionate creature dwelled inside her conservative exterior. The intensity of her fantasies had surprised even him.

Turning, he saw her fascination with the simple gesture. He had thought to play into her fantasy, to perform for her, creating this scene exactly the way she had imagined it. But he found the motions came natural to him.

Maybe she knew him better than she realized. The things she had envisioned were natural reactions he had in the moment.

In a way, it alarmed him. He remembered her mental image of him-more suave and attractive than he thought of himself-although self-confidence had never been an issue for him. His hair feathered across the collar of the sweater as he yanked it over his head, recalling how the strands had drifted over his forehead s.e.xily in her imagination. He couldn't bear to disappoint her. He wanted to fulfill every desire she'd ever had then inspire a few more.

In reality, she acted more reserved than she had in her dream. She'd had more s.e.xual experience in the past few days than all her life before. It still amazed him she had suppressed those desires for so long. Her absolute trust inspired and awed him. He would settle for nothing less than her complete cooperation, total surrender to the moment.

"Come on, Becca. Touch me. Do what you've dreamed of. I want to be your fantasy."

With a sound of longing, she reached out and buried her hands in his hair. The way her fingers rubbed his scalp spurred him on. He bowed his head to give her better access. She sighed her approval when the strands ran between her fingers. Forgotten now that she touched him, Kurt tossed the sweater on the floor behind him before closing the tiny gap between them.

Bare chest pressed against bare chest.

They gasped in unison.

Reaching around her waist, Kurt slipped the silk robe, heated by her body, from her while raining light kisses on her shoulders and arms. The retreating hem revealed her glowing skin. The garment pooled on the desk below her. He couldn't resist exploring her body before moving on. As soon as he got naked, he wouldn't be able to hold back. Not this first time, after waiting for years. Once he loosed his control and finally allowed himself to take her, there would be no stopping.

Becca braced herself on her palms. Her elbows locked straight, arms behind her. Delighted, Kurt watched as she threw back her head, reveling in the trail of exhilaration left by his meandering mouth. A wave of possession raged through him. He bit her between her breast and collarbone. He appraised the faint mark then traced the slope of supple skin with his mouth, closing in on her tight nipple.

"Please, more." She moaned then tried to wrap one hand around the back of his neck to position him closer.

"There's no rush, Becca. I'll take care of you, I swear." Despite the tidal currents of ecstasy roaring through his veins, cradling her close soothed Kurt. Soon he would take her. Tasting a woman like this had never been so fulfilling. Every tremor of her breast, every ragged breath or sigh affected him as though it were his own.

Some of them might have been.

Teasing, he flicked the tip of his tongue across her nipple while his hand cupped her other breast. The hard center poked his palm. Becca strained against his mouth.

"It feels good, doesn't it, baby?"

"Yes. More."

She wouldn't be able to deny the pressure building between her legs. He wanted to give her what she needed, what he needed too. But, first, he wanted her to beg. Sucking harder now, he caught her rock-hard peak between his teeth while he trailed his other hand lower, rubbing her belly. Quivering beneath his touch, she thrust her hips at him then tried to clasp his waist with her legs. Obliging her, he stepped into the vee of her thighs, grinding his hard-on against her dripping p.u.s.s.y. Her arousal left a glistening trail across the placket of his dark slacks.

"Dr. Foster, I can't wait. Please, f.u.c.k me. Please."

Becca seemed beyond caring about the urgency in her voice. The only color in her face now stemmed from the mantle of pa.s.sion she wore so well.

"You're beautiful." A sense of wonder filled him. He took one moment just to observe. This instant would be branded on his memory forever.

"Please don't torture me, Kurt. Now. I need to feel you inside me. Fill me."

Her begging and the involuntary use of his name obliterated the last of his restraint. His flesh pulsed, straining to be released. He attempted in vain to calm himself and react as the study dictated. Still suckling her, he shoved his pants off his hips. Having perused her medical files, he knew Becca took the pill. He'd double checked to make sure she'd taken them from where he'd stashed them with the rest of her personal items. They were both in perfect health. He couldn't wait for her to surround him. Skin on skin.

He lifted her a.s.s off the desk just enough to slip the robe out from beneath her and fling it to the ground.

Setting her back down, he gestured to the sheath tool clenched, forgotten, in her hand.

"Put it on me." Kurt reminded himself of the intent of this session. He had to obtain readings for the board.

Reaching out tentatively, Becca gripped the base of his erection and squeezed. A moan burst from his chest as his c.o.c.k jerked in reaction.

"I can affect you, too." The discovery seemed to surprise her although he considered it obvious. He didn't act like this with anyone else. Only with Becca was he so out of control, his s.e.xuality so raw and primal. How could it not be when she greedily measured the length of him with her hands and eyes as though the idea of having his d.i.c.k buried in her turned her on more than anything she'd experienced before.

"Come on, baby, hurry. There will be time to play more later." Kurt's harsh breathing echoed as he noted the marked contrast of her delicate, porcelain-white fingers on his flushed, straining c.o.c.k.

Becca stretched the bottom ring of the sheath open with a finger on each side then tried to tug it over the bulging head of his c.o.c.k. "It's too tight, Doctor."

Her innocent flattery did him in.

"It'll fit just fine." The double meaning brought her worried gaze up to his. He couldn't help but kiss the spot on her bottom lip she nibbled in nervous antic.i.p.ation.

Guiding her hand, he reached between them to scoop up some of the moisture between her legs. Together, they smeared it over his c.o.c.k, lubricating it. The slick glide of her hand across his aching member sent sparks through his entire body.

He helped her position the sheath over his slippery hard-on. It gripped him snugger than when he'd tested it out earlier. He should have antic.i.p.ated Becca's partic.i.p.ation would have this effect on him. He made a mental note to build a larger version.

The device enclosed the center of his d.i.c.k, covering about three inches and leaving more than two thirds uncovered. He'd left the maximum amount of skin exposed to enhance his enjoyment of the moist clasp of her inner muscles. The instant the tool s.h.i.+fted into place, Kurt fisted his hands in her hair. He kissed her roughly, thrusting his tongue deep inside her mouth, swallowing her moans of approval and encouragement.

Easing back until his lips dusted hers as he spoke, he growled, "Tell me what you want, Becca."

"f.u.c.k me, Dr. Foster. I can't wait any longer. Please, now."

"If that's the way you want it, baby..." Kurt swept his wrist behind her. He knocked Becca's arms out from under her but caught her secure against his torso. Pressing her back, he laid her flat on the surface of his the dark, gleaming desk. Then he climbed on top of her, and notched the purple head of his c.o.c.k at her soaked entrance.

The moment they touched, she cried out. Electricity flew along his spine when the mouth of her p.u.s.s.y gripped the tip of his raging hard-on. The earlier phases of the experiment had prepared him for her pet.i.te build but he didn't have the necessary control to work her open with his fingers first. Besides, that's not the way she'd dreamed it.

For the first time in his life, he couldn't hold back a moment longer. Placing his hands on the tops of her shoulders, he anch.o.r.ed her on his shaft as he thrust inside of her. His c.o.c.k lodged a meager fraction of an inch inside her tight channel.

They both froze, staring at the joining of their flesh.

The sight turned Rebecca on so much it amplified her body's demand for him to bury his hard-on to the hilt inside her, even if she worried it would hurt. She craved the excessive length and girth of his shaft though it intimated her. She squirmed closer, attempting to force him deeper inside, but he held still. When he ignored her pleas, she leaned forward and bit his lip.

Kurt's gritty laugh sounded as he met her eyes. "Feisty little one. Work with me, sweetheart. Don't want to hurt you. Can't fight us both." His labored breathing fragmented his speech. In that instant she knew what she wanted. Without doubt.

"Take me, Kurt. Make me yours." He surged forward again, advancing down her channel. Filling her in gradual increments defined sweet torture. The flare of pain accompanying each thrust morphed into waves of pleasure as her body accommodated him.

Rebecca felt stretched wide, full to bursting, and he had barely breached her. He retreated to rest against her sensitized opening for a moment before piercing once more. With each pa.s.s, he sank a little deeper. Her body cried out every time he left only to be rewarded with more of him when he returned.

This time the ridge of the sheath tool entered her. She went wild, convulsing around the throbbing head of his c.o.c.k. Hearing his guttural moans in the distance spurred her higher.

Afraid she would come before he'd fused them by burying himself to the root in her throbbing body, she tried again to rush him. He halted her attempt with a restraining hand on her hip. Being pinned beneath him boosted her response. A wave of liquid pleasure rushed along her p.u.s.s.y, easing his way. Kurt withdrew until the clenching muscles ringing her opening hooked around the ridge beneath the head of his c.o.c.k on the verge of exiting her.

He teased her with shallow twitches in and out, rubbing the bulging tip across her sensitive tissue. Then, with a savage groan, he entered her again in one fierce lunge that drove him nearly to the hilt, spreading the moisture from her weeping entrance to the far reaches of her body. Rebecca writhed on the desk beneath him, crammed so full he must occupy every s.p.a.ce inside her.

"G.o.d, Becca, you're so d.a.m.n tight. Open up and take me. Almost there. Take all of me." Kurt rammed inside her once more. Their bodies collided. Her c.l.i.t b.u.mped against the smooth, flat plane of muscle above his d.i.c.k. He impaled her completely.