𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙜𝙚! 𝘿𝙧 𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ⠃ ᵐⁱˡᵈ ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ, ᵃᵍᵉ ᵍᵃᵖ, ᵐᵉᵈ ˢᵗᵘᵈᵉⁿᵗꜝʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ
The clock still showed two in the afternoon, with more than six hours left until the end of a 15-hour shift. Brendon was on the second floor reviewing some medical records that had been left aside after the system crash. That is, until he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and it didn't take him long to realize who it was.
"I already told you not to come in without knocking," he says seriously, still not taking his eyes off the stack of notes.
"I've never been very good at following rules, you know that," she says bluntly.
She, the fourth-year medical student who had been a headache for Brendon for the past few months.
"Unfortunately," he says without looking at her.
She approaches, getting closer and closer to the table, as if she owned the place and had permission to do so. Close enough for Brendon to feel her gaze on him, specifically on his hands.
"What are you staring at?" he asks, observing her for the first time since she entered.
"You have beautiful hands, Doctor. And they seem to be getting more and more skillful," she finishes the sentence with a click of her tongue.
"I'm a surgeon. It's the least I could have," Park says quickly. He knew her well enough to know where this conversation might go.
She continues walking around the small room, now stopping behind him. In an almost innocent gesture, she slides her own hands to reach Brendon's on the table.
"You have beautiful fingers too, thick ones..." She says close to his ear.
"You don't know the risk you're taking with this kind of provocation," he says through gritted teeth.
"And why don't you show me, Doctor?" she says, this time facing him. Sitting on the table.
Brendon sighs and runs his hands through his now disheveled hair. A gesture indicating his already weak control slipping away.
"You'd better go now," he says firmly.
"You don't want me to go, you know that," she says, moving closer to touch one of his hands. He, on the other hand, doesn't move.
"See? You didn't even move," she says as she brings one of her fingers to her lips, leaving gentle kisses on the calloused knots.
Brendon holds his breath. The gesture seems too intimate for a relationship between a mentor and a student. The touch becomes more and more intimate each time she guides his hand over her own body.
"Can you feel this here?" she says, placing his hand inside her own shirt.
"It's beating fast for you. And yours is too," she says, moving his fingers toward her mouth again. This time, sucking on them as if she were starving.
"You don't..." Brendon doesn't have time to finish the sentence. He already feels his damp fingers on her breasts. Feeling her hard n*pple against his palm.
Park squeezes it purely reflexively, the last vestiges of sanity seeming to disappear from her body. Something that makes her look at him with even more desire. She lets go of his hand. For a second, he thinks she's going to leave.
Instead, she sits on his lap. They stare at each other for a few seconds. This time, she slides her own hand inside his pants, seeking the contact she so longed for.
"You shouldn't do this, not here," Brendon says, breathing heavily.
"Say you don't want to and I'll stop," she says.
On the other hand, he doesn't respond. She moves her hand again.
"Just say it," she stares at him.
"Just don't make me regret it," Park says, almost in agony. Which is enough for her.
Her palm encircles him, her fingers around Brendon's glans, slowly at first. The same movements taught in surgical procedures: firm and continuous.
"Faster," Park says, his breathing changing.
She speeds up. Feeling each pulse in rhythm with her own heart, the way his fingers dig into her thigh. She squeezes his p*nis lightly, feeling her ecstasy approaching.
"I'm almost there," Brendon says, letting out a groan.
"You need to shut up," she says.
Then their lips meet in an awkward kiss. She quickened her hand movements in the same rhythm as their mouths met.
He ejaculated with his forehead resting on her shoulder, his breathing heavy as if he'd run a marathon.
She withdrew her hand, still feeling him pulsing. The hot, thick liquid stained her fingers. She immediately brought them to her mouth, then kissed him, making him taste himself.
"This can't happen again," he said, still breathless.
"Is this a warning or an order, doctor?" she asked, preparing to leave the room.
"A plea," Brendon replied the instant she had already slammed the door. She definitely hadn't heard him, just as she hadn't heard everything he'd said about their relationship.
