Authors: Emma Taylor
Dragon Romance: Dragon Fire (Paranormal Shapeshifter Hero Protector Firefighter Romance) (Fantasy Shifter Werewolf BBW Pregnancy Women’s Fiction Short Stories) (47 page)
Simone sat across from her with a condescending smile on her face. “I knew it would all turn out for the best,” Simone said. “I just knew it. It was never a good fit, you know. It never could have been a good fit. You two were just too different. And now your work will take you back, you said?” This was correct. As soon as the whole thing had blown over, Charlotte’s firm had been more than willing to take her back. She had been working now for four days. And she hated it: hated every second of it. It was nothing compared to the youthful freedom she’d felt with Elliot, nothing compared to the wild nights and the pleasure-filled press of their bodies.
We only slept together once,
she reflected bitterly.
Simone went on, oblivious: “I just knew everything would be fine. See, the thing is, for women our age we can’t really get into all that. We need stability. You need to get yourself a husband, babe. That’s what you need. You’re not too old to have kids, you know. You’re not even close to being too old. All you need to do is find the right man…”
“I found the right man,” Charlotte said, unable to keep the anger out of her voice. “And I don’t want kids. I’ve told you that. How many times have I told you that?”
Simone shrugged. “You might change your mind,” she said.
“I won’t,” Charlotte said. “Not every woman has to have kids.”
“No,” Simone said. “But most want them.”
Charlotte sighed and stood up. “I’ve got to go,” she said. “Lunch is over.”
“Okay,” Simone said.
She leaned in and gave her a faux-hug and a faux-kiss on the cheek. Charlotte returned the fakeness and walked back to her office. All through those long-short weeks, Charlotte’s thoughts were on Elliot. By the end of the third week, he had stopped trying to contact her. Her thoughts assailed her. Had he forgotten her already? Had he moved onto someone else? Was he obsessing as much as she was?
She didn’t want reach out. She told herself this over and over and over. She didn’t want to reach out. She didn’t need to reach out. She was perfectly happy as she was. She had been alone for a long time now. She didn’t need anyone. And that was true. She didn’t need anyone else. But she needed Doctor Elliot Sanderson.
She was sitting on her couch when this conviction came to her. She sat bolt upright, almost as though the inherent truth of it had grappled her. She needed him. She needed him more than she needed anything else. She didn’t care about all the window dressing of life anymore. She didn’t want to simply survive from day to day; she wanted to live from day to day. She wanted to look forward to things with anticipation, look back on things with warmth, and have the pure contentment to live entirely in the present. Never had she achieved that so fully than with Elliot.
She half-hated herself for what she knew she must do. She wished he would come back to her. But he was not that sort of man. He had reached out, she had rejected, and he would not reach out again. He was not the clinging, weeping sort of man. She wouldn’t have liked him so much if he was. No, she would have to go to him.
She could’ve called, she knew that, and yet she didn’t. Instead, she called someone else.
The phone rang twice, and then Charlotte spoke.
“Hello,” she said, and then coughed. “I need to make an appointment.”
***
Charlotte sat in the doctor’s office with a small smile on her face. She knew what she was about to do would ruin her career and perhaps her friendship with Simone, and yet she didn’t care. She supposed that made her selfish, and yet she didn’t care about that, either. All she cared about in this moment was that she was going to see Elliot again. She would once again be in his company.
When her name was called, she almost skipped to the room. She wasted no time in knocking and just paced into the room. Elliot sat at the other end of the desk, a stern look on his face, his fingers interlocked before him. Some of the spring went out of Charlotte’s step as she walked to the desk and seated herself opposite him.
She opened her mouth, but he broke in: “Are you ill?”
She shifted. “No,” she said.
“Then why are you here?”
For some reason, she had thought he was going to be elated to see her. She had dreamed that he would jump up and pull her into his arms. But why would he? She had shrugged him off without explanation. Undoubtedly, he had thought she was never going to contact him again. And now here she was, sitting in his office. But he must’ve known she would be here today. The receptionist had even told her Doctor Sanderson had ordered the front desk to redirect her to his office, as Charlotte had anticipated he would.
She looked up, into his eyes, and saw a playful glint there. He was playing with her. He was enjoying this. Charlotte had not realized how much she missed that gaze until he turned it on her. She leaned forward, showing the top of her breasts, and felt a gratifying pang when his eyes were drawn there. Then she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, drawing his attention to her legs in her short skirt. His eyes flitted over her once more and she realized she wanted him again. But
she
wanted to take
him
.
She would take him now, she decided.
She didn’t answer his question. Instead, she rose from her chair and walked around the desk to where he sat. He looked up at her with almost fearful eyes. She reached down and touched his face. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and a light sprinkling of black hair dotted his chin and cheeks. She smoothed her hand along the hairs, bristling her palm, and then bent over him. “I’m going to ride you now, doctor,” she said.
He said nothing as she slinked to her knees and touched his cock over his pants. He let out a grunt as she rubbed her hand up and down on the outside of his pants. She rubbed her hand fast over his pants, and felt his cock immediately stiffen under her hand. He stared down at her with his hard, unflinching eyes as she touched him. Then she unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down to his knees. His cock sprang free, pointing straight up, hard.
She grabbed the base and then took the tip in her mouth. She had to open her mouth wide because it was so big, but she didn’t mind. She sucked the tip and worked the base with her hand, twisting her hand and moving it up and down. He groaned and let his head fall back. She rubbed harder and forced her head down, taking as much of him in her mouth as she could.
Then she cupped his balls and pushed her head down hard on his cock, deep-throating almost all of him. “Fuck,” he whispered. She choked and pulled her head away, and then did it again and again, sucking all of him. He put his hand on her head, stroking her hair almost affectionately. She reached down and put her hand down her underwear, touching her clit. She rubbed it softly as she sucked him, and felt her body respond as quickly as Elliot had.
She was ready to fuck him, she realized. She wanted to fuck him so bad.
She stood up and pulled her underwear down, and then leaned over him, propping her hands on the back of the chair, and lowered herself onto his waiting cock. He reached his hand down and guided himself inside of her. She put her full weight on him. The chair creaked. She didn’t care. Let them hear. Let them gossip.
His cock went deep inside of her, hitting her sweet spot straightaway. She went slowly at first, moving up and down on his cock, feeling the heat and the largeness of him within her. And then she went faster and faster, hungry for him inside of her, hungry to feel the pressure of his cock pounding into her. He grabbed her waist and lifted her up and down like she weighed nothing, pushing her down as she bounced on him.
Memories of arguing with him faded; memories of ever being angry with him faded. She could not be angry with this man who brought her such pleasure. She gripped the chair hard and pushed herself down as hard as she could. The chair creaked loudly and wobbled, as though it would collapse any second.
Fuck, yes, fuck, he’s so big, oh my god, yes, fuck…
She looked down at him and saw that he was looking up at her, his eyes locked to her breasts, which bounced up and down each time she did. He reached up and pulled her dress down, and then yanked her bra down, spilling her breasts free. He leaned up and grabbed them, and then took them in his mouth.
Charlotte felt an answering call in her body: a quick and almost violent jolt of pleasure. She arched her back and came all over his cock. It was a quick orgasm, surging through her and then leaving. She bounced harder as she came, feeling the thickness of him stretch her vagina, feeling his hands and lips and tongue on her breasts. “Come for me, doctor,” she whispered. “Come for me, now.”
It felt good to speak the words: to tell him to come for her. It felt good to be in charge, even if it was only for now. She knew that after this was done, he would once again take control. And that was okay. She longed for that. But right now… She turned his head with her hand and bent over him, finding his lips. They kissed long and hard, the heat from their lips intensifying the heat from their lovemaking.
She twisted her body up and down, riding his hard cock. She bounced harder, faster, putting everything she had into it, surrendering everything to this man. He moaned loudly through the kiss, and then his hands were grasping at her back, at her hair, at her waist. “Fuck,” he moaned, breaking off the kiss. “Keep doing that. Fuck, Charlotte. Keep doing that. Yes, fuck. Keep doing that.”
She bounced higher and harder, bringing her whole weight down on him with each thrust. He moaned louder and then clamped his eyes shut. There was a pause in which he went completely silent. And then he was moaning loudly, his hands opening and closing on her skin, grasping at her. “Yes, fuck, yes, yes,” he moaned.
She felt his cock wilting inside of her as he emptied himself. His face reddened and then he fell back on the chair, a tired, satisfied grin on his face. She climbed from him and returned to her chair, his come spilling out of her down her leg. She didn’t mind. All she cared for right now was the smile on his face.
After a few moments, he pulled his pants up, adjusted his clothes, smoothed his hair, and then met her gaze. “I suppose we are friends again, now?” he said.
She nodded. “That seems about right,” she said.
He smiled. “Good,” he said.
She couldn’t think of anything else to say, so she stayed silent. And then Elliot opened the drawer close to his right hand and pulled out a small box. Charlotte regarded it with a detached, impersonal curiosity. Surely it wasn’t for her? It looked suspiciously like a ring.
He smiled at her again, and then opened the box. A delicate, stylish diamond shone from a sparkling setting. The band itself was slender and silver. He met her eyes, and now his gaze was hard.
“Marry me,” he said.
***
Charlotte stared at him for a few moments, unsure of what she had just heard.
Marry me
. But that couldn’t be right, could it? They had been apart for almost a month. They had fallen out. And now he wanted to marry her? No, she decided, she must have misheard him. But the ring in his hand wasn’t a hallucination. She blinked and it was still there.
“What?” she mumbled.
“You heard me,” he said. “Marry me. Be my wife.”
“But… it hasn’t even been two months.”
“And?” he said. “Why should I wait to do something I know I want to do? I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife. There is no reason I should delay that just because we have not known each other that long. What would be the purpose? No, I want you, and only you. No other women interest me. It is you, Charlotte, and only you. I have never felt as I have about you: affectionate and domineering and protective and weak all at once. You make me feel like myself. You’re the only person with whom I can truly be myself. I love you. That is the truth of it. And you love me, too.”
“Yes,” she said, without thinking. It was true. She didn’t even need to think about it to know that.
“Then what is stopping us? The opinion of the world? Who cares what the world says about our love? They will never know the depths of it. They will never be able to grasp the love we share. Let them talk. Let them gossip. It means nothing to me. All I care for is your love. I have been a rich man for a long time, but without you I feel poor. I have been a success for a long time, but without you I feel like a failure. Marry me, join with me, and become the whole we are meant to be.”
Charlotte had never heard him talk with such passion. He leaned forward on the table as though he would jump over it and take her again right here. His face was slightly red. And his words had a husky, passionate note to them.
“Yes,” she whispered. And then, louder: “Yes, yes, yes!”
They jumped up at the same time and met by the side of the table. He took her in his arms and then slipped the ring on her finger. “I love you,” he whispered into her ear.
“I love you, too.”
***
Charlotte was nervous as she and Elliot prepared to leave the clinic together. The engagement ring felt cold against her skin. She smiled at the coldness. It brought comfort and elation. Elliot took her arm in his, and together they walked into the night, into the flashing cameras.
The lights glinted off her ring.
THE END