Dragon Romance: Dragon Fire (Paranormal Shapeshifter Hero Protector Firefighter Romance) (Fantasy Shifter Werewolf BBW Pregnancy Women’s Fiction Short Stories) (43 page)

It was an icy autumn morning, with moisture clinging to the grass like little particles of diamond, reflecting in the sunlight. Charlotte walked the two miles to the doctor’s surgery, relishing the cool, crisp air.

And we’re back,
she thought, smiling to herself.

She sat in the waiting room, reading a magazine, pretending to look interested in whatever the author was talking about. It was a celebrity magazine. Charlotte did not hate celebrity culture; it had just never overly interested her. When her name was called, she set the magazine aside and made for Elliot Sanderson’s office.

When she entered he swiveled in his chair to face her, like a villain in a spy movie. “Charlotte,” he said, and nodded to the seat opposite him.

“Elliot,” Charlotte replied in an icy voice, as she took the seat.

They looked at one another silently. The silence stretched for almost a minute and then Charlotte broke out, against her better judgment.

“You haven’t contacted me in a week,” she blurted. “I’ve been waiting for a call or a text or—anything. But you haven’t even tried to contact me since that night. I’ve been wondering why and I think it’s because you’ve got what you wanted from me. You just wanted me to come for you and then you were done with me.” Even as she spoke the words, she knew how ridiculous they sounded. What man simply wanted to give pleasure to a woman and then discard her? Perhaps if she had done something to him, then it would have made sense. But she hadn’t.

He just smiled at her, and tapped his fingers upon the table. “I take it you are not ill,” he said.

“Ill? No. I’m not ill. Just angry.”

“You have no reason to be angry.”

“No reason..?” She clenched her fists. He was playing with her! This was all a game to him!

He held out his hands in a show of peace. “Let me tell you the truth,” he said. “I like seeing you angry. It excites me. I knew if I did not contact you for a week, you would come here. I am sorry, but I knew it was going to happen, and it did. Here you are. And you’re angry, just like I wanted. I manipulated you, it is true, to serve my own pleasure.” He said all this with a voice of absolute banality, as though he was discussing the weather. His eyes never left her.

“You’re sick,” she said, but her voice sounded weak.

He shrugged. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “But can you blame me?”

“Yes, I can,” Charlotte said. “I do.”

He smiled at her with that self-assured, captivating, infuriating smile. “Blame me then,” he said. “But that does not change what is going to happen in this office today.”

“Nothing is going to—”

“Here is what will happen,” he said, in a calm voice. “I am going to bend you over this table and fuck you, hard, until you come on my cock.”

“No,” Charlotte said, but already she could feel her body responding to his words. She wanted him to fuck her, she realized, with a mixture of elation and shock. But she wouldn’t do it, no, she wouldn’t do it. “No,” she repeated, more firmly.

He rose from the table and walked around to where she sat. She could’ve walked from the room. She could’ve run from the room. She could’ve screamed at him to leave her alone. She did not think he would force himself upon her. If she showed she truly wasn’t interested, he would stop; after all, they were in a doctor’s office.

But she did none of those things. Instead, she watched as he walked around to where she sat and stood over her.

Her body was alive to his movements. She felt her skin begin to tingle and warmth rise within her chest in anticipation. She told herself that it was wrong, that she should not be so excited that this man would treat her like this. And yet she could not convince herself.

“Stand up,” he said.

“No,” she whispered.

“Stand up,” he repeated, in the exact same tone.

Just walk out and never come back. You don’t want this man. You don’t want this man to fuck you, hard, over the table. You don’t want this man inside of—Stop it. You don’t want him. Just leave it at that. You want nothing to do with this man. You don’t want him. You don’t want him. You don’t!

But she did, and she knew it. She rose to her feet and turned to face him. He looked her up and down and then reached for her leg. He touched it softly, and then grabbed her thigh and smiled as she shivered under his touch. He moved his hand up her thigh to her vagina, and then clamped his hand down over her sweatpants, compressing her clit, grabbing her with all his strength.

She bit down and fell forward, her hands automatically going to his chest. All thoughts of denial had flown from her mind. All she could think of now was where this would go, what the two of them would do, what pleasure she would feel. “Fuck me,” she whispered. “Fuck me. Hard.”

With one swift movement he pulled her sweatshirt and vest over her head. He undid her bra with one hand and then led her to the desk. He pulled down her sweatpants and then rubbed her ass. “You have an amazing body,” he said, calmly.

She pushed her bare ass back, baring herself for him, hungry for him. She heard him undoing his belt and felt a thrill of pleasure move through her. His hands were on her ass, and then his cock touched her skin. It was huge. She looked back and saw it, bigger than any cock she’d ever seen, hard and taut. She swallowed in fear and anticipation. He rubbed his cock between her ass cheeks, and then pressed the tip against her clit. She felt an answering call of pleasure in her body.

“How hard can you take it?” he said.

“Hard,” she answered, without thinking, just wanting. “As hard as you can give it.”

His breath increased at that. It was a subtle increase, but it was definite and she heard it. She pushed her ass back more insistently. She heard him take something from his pocket. She turned and saw him put the condom on his cock. Then he grabbed her ass cheeks and thrust into her.

The pain was immense at first, as his huge rock-hard cock squeezed into her vagina. She closed her eyes and waited, waited, and then the pain began to recede as she opened to him. Pleasure took its place and the wetness of her vagina welcomed him. She pushed back on his cock. He grabbed her hair with one hand and her ass with the other, and then pushed into her.

He rammed her so hard she almost fell forward. She gripped the desk and held herself as steady as she could as he fucked her. He rammed her slow, at first, and then he began to fuck her faster and faster. She bit down and pushed back on his cock, feeling nothing but the pounding pleasure that seized her with each thrust. He pulled her hair back and dug his fingers into her ass cheeks.

“Fuck,” he grunted, quietly.

That was all she needed: a sign that he was enjoying this as much as she was. She pushed back harder and harder, reached her hand back and grasped at his hard thigh muscle. She felt the muscle, and the strength of him in his thrust, and heard his low grunts. The orgasm took her quickly, grabbed hold of her, and before she knew it she was coming all over his cock, squirting on his cock.

“Come for me,” he commanded, and she came even harder.

She grabbed his thigh hard, digging her fingernails in. He grunted and fucked her harder. His cock was so big inside of her she couldn’t believe she was taking it. “I want to finger your tight asshole,” he breathed.

“Do it,” she moaned.

He slipped his finger into her asshole as he fucked her, pounding into her hard. She gasped as the pain-pleasure filled her body, making each thrust a quest to find the pleasure in the pain. She sought it as a drowning woman seeks a life-raft. The pain seemed to heighten the pleasure, seemed to make it more precious. And there was something about his finger in her asshole, the dirtiness of it.

She bit down to stop herself from screaming as the second orgasm took her. Her whole body shook with the force of it. She writhed up and down on him. “Keep doing that,” he said. “Bounce on my cock.” She did as he said, rocking her body back and forth on his cock, pushing back on him, taking him deep within her.

“Fuck, fuck,” he breathed, pushing his finger deeper into her asshole.

She answered his moans by pushing back harder on his cock. Then he was grasping at her ass and moaning loudly. He grunted once more and pushed his cock deep inside of her. “Fuck, yes, fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “Fuck, Charlotte, fuck, yes.”

He fell forward and then his cock was wilting inside of her. He breathed heavily, resting upon her back, and then pulled out of her and rose to his feet. She got dressed, wondering if anyone had heard them, but she was in such a daze that she didn’t give it much thought. Elliot cleaned his hands with gel and pulled his pants up. He reseated himself. Sweat glistened on his forehead, but that made him sexier; the sweat was a result of what they had just done.

Charlotte leaned back in her chair. “Wow,” she said.

He smiled at her. “I agree,” he said. After a moment, he went on. “I have a request of you.”

“Another?”

He grinned. “Yes. I have to attend a party tonight. It is not something that excites me. But it is for a charity to which I have given a substantial amount of money, and so I am expected. I would ask that you accompany me, as my date.”

“Yes,” Charlotte said.

The afterglow of the pleasure was still in her cheeks. She couldn’t think of anything better than attending a party with Doctor Sanderson. “Good,” he said. “Meet me here at seven p.m. tonight.”

“Okay,” Charlotte said.

“Now,” Elliot said. “If that’s all, Miss Moss, I believe we are done here.”

Charlotte grinned. “I believe we are,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t be late,” he warned.

She left the office with a silly grin on her face. She had entered his office to shout at him, and she had ended up fucking him. What did that make her? Right now, she reflected, she couldn’t give a damn.

***

She spent the rest of the day reading, playing the guitar, and generally distracting herself before it was time to prepare for the party. When it was time, she dressed in the fanciest, most expensive dress she owned and applied light, sophisticated makeup. She ordered a cab and soon she was driving through the twilight, back to the place in which an inordinate amount of her time had been spent recently. But she didn’t mind that. The doctor’s office, she realized, was now one of her favorite places to visit. Now, if that wasn’t abnormal she didn’t know what was!

She arrived at the doctor’s office with fifteen minutes to spare. Elliot was already there, dressed in a suit and leaning against the wall. She smiled at her and insisted that he pay for the cab. She refused him, but he paid anyway, and the cab was driving away before she could do anything about it.

A car pulled up to the space where the cab had been. “I didn’t think you’d want to travel by helicopter again,” he said.

She smiled at him and climbed into the car. He shut the door behind her and then walked around to other side and climbed in. He tapped the window and the driver pulled the car away and into the evening traffic. “You look wonderful,” he said.

Charlotte didn’t know what to say to that, apart from mutter: “Thank you.”

Suddenly, she was overcome with the strangeness of this all. Not that long ago she had been griping because she had a minor cold. And she had gone to the doctor, and then Elliot had been there. And now… this. Had that truly been only two weeks ago, maybe a little longer? It seemed years ago. So much had changed. She never imagined she would be going to a fancy party with a billionaire. She had never even dreamed such a thing. But here she was, in a car many women would have killed to be in, on the arm of a rich, handsome, commanding man.

She reached across the car and laid a hand on his leg. He looked down at the hand for a few moments, and then laid his hand upon hers. “I am glad you came,” he said.

“Me, too,” she said.

They travelled the rest of the journey in silence. Charlotte didn’t mind. His hand on hers was all the connection she needed. She looked inside herself and realized it was not just lust she felt for this man. It was not love either, exactly. But it was something in between. She didn’t know him that well at all, but she felt a siren call in her body, calling out for him. And she was sure she sensed an answering call within him. It was in the subtle looks he sometimes gave her, his usually-hard eyes filled with something approaching softness.

***

She was nervous as the car arrived at its destination. They had had to pass through a large, imposing gate to gain entrance to the party. This was, she was told, to stop paparazzi from taking pictures of the guests.

Charlotte would laugh grimly about that later.

As soon as Elliot took her hand and escorted her from the car, a man hefted himself one-armed over the high walls and snapped a picture of her and Elliot. The flash was blinding. She reached up to cover her face, but it was too late. The camera was on machine-gun capture or something; the flash was like a military flash-grenade. The security guards ran at him, but he jumped down from the wall and fled into the night.

“Dammit,” Elliot cursed.

“What?” Charlotte said. “What just happened?”

It had all been too fast; she still wasn’t sure she had seen correctly. But then Elliot said: “He’ll sell that photo to the highest bidder. Charlotte, I fear you are going to be in every celebrity magazine tomorrow, on every celebrity website.”