The Fallout (The Therapist #3) - W.S. Greer Page 0,52

“I saw it in you, and I know you recognize it in me when you look me in the eyes. You know if I ever got my hands on you, you'd never be able to come back from the place I’d take you. We both know it. So, let’s talk it out again.”

Dr. Monroe clears her throat, but she’s not able to speak. She just stares at me.

“If I wanted to fuck you right here in this office,” I go on. “It’d start just like this—the two of us looking at each other without blinking. Barely breathing. Lustful thoughts running through both of our minds. You, wondering what it’d feel like for me to touch and kiss you. Me, dying to find out what you taste like.”

Dr. Monroe lets out a soft gasp as she stares at me. I see the desire in her eyes. She can't hide it anymore. The mask has slipped completely off.

“You want to know if what I told you before is real,” I continue. “I’ve explained so much about what I do, you want to know if it’s true. The toys. The spanking. The orgasms. The Black House. You're curious about it all, so when I get up out of my seat, your curiosity will win because you want to know what I’ll do when fantasy becomes reality.”

I stand up and slowly walk toward Dr. Monroe, who does nothing but watch me with lust in her eyes.

“To start, I'd walk over to you. I'd take my time so you can imagine what'll happen before it actually does.”

As I walk, I describe what I’m doing as I do it, keeping in line with the exercise from last week. I walk until I’m standing behind Dr. Monroe’s chair. She stays facing forward while I rub the back of her neck with the tip of my finger.

“I'd rub your neck gently, just soft enough for you to know I’m there, before I move your hair to one side so I can kiss your bare skin.” After moving her hair, I bend forward and let my tongue dance across the naked flesh of Dr. Monroe’s neck. She tastes salty and sweet, and I can't wait to know what she really tastes like.

As I kiss her, she doesn't moan, but she releases a soft, sensual sigh. She doesn't tell me to stop. She doesn't say a word, but silent approval isn't what I’m into. If she wants me, I want her to say it.

I lift my hand and grip the corner of Dr. Monroe’s chair and spin her around. When I see her face, I know she’s into it. This is exactly what she fantasized about last week. Now that it’s happening, she’s stunned into silence, but I’m all about communication.

Keeping my eyes on hers, I slowly lower myself down to my knees. She watches me, breathing harder the lower I go.

“I’d get on my knees in front of you, watching as the anticipation grows within you and reveals itself in your eyes. The look in your eyes tells me how you feel, but I want it from your mouth.” I rub my hand up the inside of Dr. Monroe’s leg inch by inch. “I’d make you tell me you wanted it. I’d want to hear it from you, so I’d ask you. Is this what you want?”

Dr. Monroe presses her lips together, and I stop moving for a split second to entice her. When I move my hand again, I squeeze my way up her calf before reaching her thigh just above the knee. I stop there and ask her again. I need to hear it.

“Do you want it?”

She presses her lips together again, but it only lasts a second before she lets out a breathy, “Yes. I want it. Yes.”

I don't smile because nothing is funny. I’m all business when I move my left hand up under her skirt while my right hand reaches up and pulls her panties down. She lifts her feet off the floor so I can remove them completely, and I pause again.

“Ask me to do it,” I say as I lower my body into position, my mouth just inches away from her bare, beautiful pussy. “Ask me to taste you. Ask.”

“Jesus Christ,” she whispers as if she's unable to keep herself from giving in. “Please. Please taste me.”

I can see how much she wants it. Dr. Monroe is so ready for it her body is grinding on its own, trying its best to