Her Dirty Little Games An Erotica Collection

THE GYNECOLOGIST AND HIS PATIENT 

I sat in the waiting room, my legs crossed tightly, my heart pounding so hard I was sure the receptionist could hear it, but none of that mattered, because in a few minutes, l'd be spreading my legs for him.

The gynecologist. Dr. Ethan Cole.

I'd been stalking his Instagram for a year.

Every post, every story. He had hands that looked like they knew exactly what they were doing, and I was about to find out.

"Lena?" The nurse called my name, snapping me out of my fantasy.

I stood, smoothing my skirt, my pulse throbbing between my thighs. This was it. Time to lie.

Just tell him you're in pain. He'll have to touch you. He'll have to look.

The nurse led me to the exam room, and I sat on the crinkly paper, my legs dangling, I was already soaking wet. Any minute now, he'd walk in. And then?

I'd make sure he never forgot me.

The door clicked open, and there he was... Dr Ethan Cole in the flesh. Tall, broad-shouldered, his white coat fitted his body just right. His dark hair was perfectly tousled, like he'd just run his fingers through it, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk the second our eyes met.

Oh God.

My pussy clenched, a hot pulse of need radiating through me. I crossed my legs tighter, but it was no use-the dampness between my thighs was undeniable.

"Lena," he called.

The way he said my name sent a shiver down my spine. "What brings you in today?"

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. "I've been... having pain," I murmured, shifting on the paper-covered table. "During sex."

His gaze flickered... just for a second-down to where my thighs pressed together, then back up. "Pain?" He stepped closer, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me. "Where, exactly?"

I bit my lip. "Inside."

A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips.

"Well, we'll have to take a look, then."

He reached for a pair of gloves, the latex snapping against his wrists as he pulled them.

My heart pounded. This was really happening.

"Lie back for me," he instructed.

l obeyed, my heart hammering as I settled onto the table. His fingers brushed the inside of my knee, guiding my legs apart, and I swore I saw his jaw tighten when he saw how wet I already was.

"You're very... sensitive," he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow, teasing circle just below my panty line.

I whimpered. Fuck.

His eyes locked onto mine. "Let's see what's causing you so much... discomfort."

And then his fingers slipped beneath the edge of my panties.

His fingers were warm through the thin latex as they grazed the soaked fabric of my panties. My breath shuddered out of me, my hips lifting instinctively... just a fraction, but enough to make his smirk deepen.

He knew.

Of course he knew.

"You're very wet for someone in pain," he murmured.

His thumb slid into the lace, dragging it aside slowly. The cool air of the exam room hit my exposed flesh, making me shiver. Or maybe it was the way his gaze burned between my legs, taking in every trembling inch of me.

"I... it comes and goes," I lied, my voice embarrassingly breathless.

"Mmm." His gloved fingers traced my clit and my back arched off the table.