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Your Skin is My Sin

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It was Rose, bless her heart, who said the something that made Rey make the appointment.

“Have you always had that mole there?” the girl had asked.

Rey and Rose had been friends forever, and with that level of friendship came a breakdown of boundaries, which was a fancy way of saying that they saw each other naked from time to time. Today, they had been sunbathing, nude, on the rooftop of their building, desperate to catch the last warm rays of summer before winter stole the tan away.

Rey blinked down, looking for what Rose had pointed out. And there, on her left breast, almost touching her nipple, was a dark reddish/brown spot.

“Huh. I don’t know. I’ve never noticed it before,” Rey muttered, poking at it.

“I haven’t really either. No offense, I love you and all, but I don’t make a habit of looking at your tits. It’s just such a different color from your freckles that it caught my eye,” Rose said, pulling on her bra. “I’m just saying, you should probably get that looked that.”

And so Rey did. She’d done some quick Googling and found the best reviewed dermatologist in the area who accepted her insurance: Dr. Ben Solo. She was able to get in to see him a month later, all the while constantly staring down at the little mark and wondering what it was. She could only pray that it was nothing. After all, her insurance didn’t really cover any type of removal. She was lucky enough that it covered even this.

As she filled out the proper paperwork at the office, she looked around at the other waiting patients. There were teens with acne sitting next to bored parents, adults with aggressive rosacea, and one man with another sort of rash that seemed like it should be treated in an ER instead. With a blush, she realized that all of their issues were very easy to see, while hers, she couldn’t get embarrassed about that. This man was a doctor. She was sure that he probably saw weird marks on lots of people in lots of places. There was no reason for her to get squeamish about him seeing her boob.

By the time she was finally called back, she had her nerves firmly in control. This was going to be fine. She could handle some random guy inspecting her boob. Everything would be cool.

Well, it would have, had the man who entered not be 6’2 Sex on a Stick. What right did he have to be that tall, with arms that bulged with muscles even beneath his pristine coat. Who said he could have that gorgeous, wavy black hair, parted down the center but still threatening to fall into his eyes. And where the fuck did he get off having lips that full and red and juicy, or eyes that shone like amber in the sun. Suddenly, she did not at all want to take her top off. At the same time, she really, really did.

Looking down at his clipboard as he entered the room, he clarified, “Miss Johnson, correct?”

He never lifted his eyes from the papers in front of him, occasionally flipping through them as he waited.

Oh, and he sounded like that? Even doing something so methodical, he sounded far too good.

Okay, maybe she needed to get laid.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, swallowing down the extra salivation that had pooled for Dr. Yummy.

Finally glancing up, he stared at her for a heartbeat too long, his eyes flitting over her face, down her neck, and then back up again. His expression grew unreadable as he turned back to his paperwork.

“I understand you have a mark on your skin that hasn't always been there? Care to elaborate?” he asked, voice deep and authoritative.

“I, um, noticed a mark on my, um, my left breast. Near the--” she swallowed again, “nipple.”

Why did she feel like she was in school all over again?

“Do you have a family history of skin cancer?” he asked, moving over to the counter in the corner of the room. He set the clipboard down and washed his hands, drying them thoroughly before he slid some blue medical gloves on.

“I’m not sure. I’m an orphan,” she said, frowning sadly. She hated not knowing her family medical history. She really needed to save up money so that she could get one of those genetic test kits, just to see what she needed to look out for.

He stilled for a moment before turning back to her. “I'm very sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks,” she said. Shaking the sad thoughts away, she crossed her arms over her torso and raised an eyebrow. “So should I…?”

“Just lift your shirt up, please. You don't have to remove it all the way. Perhaps unclasp your bra to make it easier,” he said, his tone sounding clinical and professional, though there was a darkness in his eyes.

Was she insane, or was there a glint in his eyes that hadn’t been there before? Still, she knew she’d be more comfortable removing her shirt, since she didn’t really have the chest to support it jus being rucked up. She pulled it off and unclipped her bra next, setting the articles of clothing on the table behind her. She wasn’t sure if she should be looking at him or somewhere else or at the mole or what? What was the protocol for this?

“Relax,” he told her as he brought the little rolling stool forward until it was right next to her. “I do want to warn you, that I may have to touch you. Alright?”

Oh, you can touch me, the wicked voice in her head said. The real Rey just gave him a little smile, meant to appear confident and reassuring. “Yes, you may touch me.”

“My hands may be a little cold,” he added, dropping his eyes lower to her chest, frowning softly. “When did you notice its appearance?”

“A few weeks ago? I noticed it after sunbathing, um, nude, but I put on really good lotion,” she attempted to defend. She knew she'd be chastised for admitting to the harmful activity, but how did she make this gorgeous, pale man understand her pigmented plight?

He hummed thoughtfully, bringing his hand forward to prod a finger gently around the skin. He ignored the way her nipple began to harden, focusing on the dark patch next to it.

“What kind of lotion? Suntanning lotion, SPF?” he asked softly.

“SPF 60,” she replied, her eyes firmly on the ceiling. She couldn't look down at him, watching the way he gently prodded her skin. The way her nipple was tightening was so embarrassing, but she could feel his warm breath on her skin, fanning over the peak, and she couldn't not react. She just wished she could cross her legs to help with some of the pressure there.

“Do you do self breast exams?” he questioned, his eyes flickering up to meet hers briefly.

She could feel his gaze on her face and she looked down at him and oh how she wished she hadn't. His eyes were so much darker brown. In fact, they nearly looked black, almost as if his pupils had dilated considerably. Which was ridiculous, right?

“I--um--no,” she replied honestly.

“Would you mind if I felt for anything out of the ordinary?” he asked, his eyes boring up into hers.

“Go ahead,” she whispered. As if she could deny him.

Turning his attention back to her breast, he used his fingers to massage the tissue, starting around the innermost portion around her nipple and working his way out until he was at the portion that extended up by her armpit.

“It's recommended that you do at least a monthly self exam like this,” he explained. “If you feel any lumps or hardness, anything that shouldn't be there, make sure you get it checked.”

“Are you feeling any hardness?” she asked. Only a moment after, she realized how decidedly not innocent her innocent question may sound, but she didn't know how to fix it now, so she said nothing.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he confirmed, removing his hand. “What I'm going to do now, is to draw a circle around the mark, and I would like it if you would keep an eye on it, as well as take weekly photos of it to see if it changes at all. If it grows, or morphs into an odd shape rather than the circle it is now, then we'll need to see about removal.”

“How long until I see you again, then?” she asked.

“Let's give it a month,” he said, sliding the rolling stool over to the counter. He grabbed a marker out of a drawer and returned to her, swiveling to face her again.

Reaching up with both hands, he carefully nudged her nipple to the side and made a circle around the mark. It was close, able to capture any changes in the size or shape of it. “As of right now, I'm not too worried about it. However, with your admission of sunbathing nude, I would still be wary of skin cancer. If you do it often, my recommendation is to cut back on it a bit.”

“Yes, sir,” she muttered. She felt heat spike through her at his gloved hand touching her nipple, pebble hard, her breasts feeling heavy and aching to be touched more. When she dared to look down and watch him, she couldn't help but notice how big his hands were, how easily he could palm her breasts. She wondered what his lips would feel like sealed over the aching peak.

Leaning back, he pulled his hands away and stripped off his gloves, throwing them into the trash can by the door.

“Did you have any questions for me?” he asked as he picked up the clipboard again and began writing some notations on the papers.

“Um, no? I don't think so. I'll just keep an eye on it and see you next time,” she said. “Can I…?” she gestured to her clothes.

“Of course,” he said, turning away from her for a moment to give her a bit of privacy. Nevermind the fact that he'd just been touching her breast. “Whenever you check out as you leave, just make another appointment with Kaydel. She'll get you squared away.”

“Okay. I can do that,” she nodded, quickly slipping back into her clothes. She hopped off the table and faltered to realize just how much bigger he was than her. He could so easily pick her up and...fuck. She needed to get home to the privacy of her bedroom.

Extending out his hand, he met her eyes and said, “See you soon, Miss Johnson.”

“See you soon,” she said, scooting out of the room quickly. She needed to get some space to breathe, away from Dr. Solo. And she really needed her vibrator.

She scheduled her next appointment with the nice blonde at the reception desk, for exactly three and a half weeks from now. Until then, she had to keep an eye on her breast and her mind away from her dermatologist. Heaven help her.

“Have a great day, Miss Johnson,” Kaydel called after her in her cheery way just as she answered the phone.

“You, too,” Rey called back, already almost gone.



“So?” Rose asked, hands on her hips. “What'd the doc say?”

She'd practically pounced on Rey the moment her roommate had come back through the door of their little two bedroom apartment.

“He doesn't think it's much of anything, but I have to keep an eye on it and go back in in a month,” Rey said. “Well, I think he did. I don't know why I didn't do my millennial due diligence and Google him first, but…” she turned her phone to show Rose the professional headshot of her doctor. She'd been so worried before about the mole that she hadn't looked up his picture. Why, oh why, hadn't she?

“That's your doctor? Oh my. I think I'd fake an illness just to go see him. Too bad he's a dermatologist and not a general practitioner--I'd definitely go in with a 'cold’ and demand immediate care,” Rose snickered, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Rose, his face was this close to my breast! Thank god he wasn't a gyno, I would have soaked his hand! It should be illegal to be that beautiful. I just...I need you to leave the house for a minute. I need some unfiltered alone time,” Rey asked of her friend.

It wasn't an unusual request from them. It was an agreement they had, to always give each other proper ladytime space or gentleman friend space. No further explanation was needed, no protests given. It was true friendship.

“Hey, girl, you gotta do what you gotta do. I've gotta run to the store anyway. When you're done, text me what you want for dinner, 'kay?” Rose asked, already grabbing her purse and car keys.

“Thanks, babe. I love you,” Rey said as she made a beeline to her bedroom door.

She hardly waited until she heard the front door close before she pressed her vibrator on and got to work.



Rey checked on the mark constantly, looking every morning to see if it had surpassed the black ring. Thankfully, there was no change, but she still had to see Dr. Solo so that he could confirm that it was fine. Maybe he'd be proud of her for coming in instead of just cancelling because nothing was wrong. She wondered if he'd remember her.

She dressed in the cutest bra she owned, bright red, and a black button down top, as well as a pencil skirt. She looked professional, which she just kind of assumed he’d like. She wasn't entirely sure why she was attempting to seduce her dermatologist, as he hadn't given any indication of reciprocating her thirst. But she wasn't going to grab at him or demand that he touch her or anything; she just wanted to show that she put some effort into their meeting.

She hopped up in the exam table, willing her heart to stay calm. This was normal. She was fine. She was just going to interact with a sexy doctor. No. Big. Deal.

He came in a few moments later, pausing briefly in the doorway as his eyes immediately settled on her. He looked her up and down once before saying in that deep timbre of his, “Welcome back, Miss Johnson.”

She licked her lip as her mouth suddenly felt far too dry. “Thanks,” she replied.

“Nervous?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he moved the curtain in the room over the door to give her some privacy while she was undressing when they got to that part. “I promise you, I don't bite.” The gleam in his eyes definitely did not match the words though.

“I wouldn't mind,” she muttered quietly. Louder, she said, “No. Just thirsty.”

“You're welcome to get some water. Please, make use of the items in the room and make any upcharging to replace them valid,” he said, shrugging.

She smiled at that. “I can only imagine what your expense reports look like. It's amazing how much you can charge for aspirin.”

“It is rather ridiculous, I suppose. I can agree on that,” he said, cracking a small smile. “I'd rather not get on to the subject of health insurance and everything that goes along with that, however.”

It wasn't his fault his mother's office operated as it did.

“Are you saying that we should hurry along to the half-dressed portion of my appointment?” she teased, even though, yes, that's what she wanted.

He went still, blinking at her as though she'd just kicked his dog, his nostrils flaring just slightly as the muscle under one eye twitched faintly.

Finally seeming to compose himself, like someone had just wiped every bit of expression off of his face, he said, “I'm sure you have other places to be. It is Friday, after all.”

“Oh. No. I don’t ever have any plans, except when my roommate and I watch movies or whatever. But I'm sure your wife always does something nice for you.” He wasn't wearing a ring, but she knew that lots of doctors didn't. Couldn't risk getting it lost in someone, after all.

“I'm not married,” he said bluntly, looking down at his papers again. “Maybe she would if I were, but I'm not.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she said. “If it helps, I’m single, too. You're not alone.”

“I'm better off alone,” he replied, eyes hardening slightly as he went to go wash his hands and slap a new pair of gloves on.

What he didn't say was that he wasn't good with people, and being a doctor, he was around them all the time. He was used to women trying to be subtle, leaning into his hands or trying their best to send off every signal they had that they were entirely fuckable. He'd been good at repelling their advances...until Rey Johnson.

He couldn't get her golden skin out of his head, yet he couldn't seem to stop being professional, either. He did enjoy his job.

“I'm sure there is someone out there for you,” she said softly, sincerely. She lifted her hands to begin unbuttoning her blouse, going slowly as her mind drifted. She wanted him to be happy. She barely knew him, and she wanted him to be happy. Even if it wasn't with her, even if she couldn't effect it.

“Maybe,” he agreed quietly, watching her slightly from the corner of his eye. He didn't want to stare at the way her fingers looked so thin and dextrous as she unbuttoned her shirt, or how with each button that came undone, the more smooth skin of her chest it revealed.

Forcing his head lower to his clipboard, he scanned the words he read probably a hundred times a day. They were standard forms, asking for patient date of birth, things like that. Okay, maybe he'd noticed she was legal.

She laid her blouse beside her with care before moving on to the bra, sliding it down her arms and lying it on top of the blouse. “I’m ready. I reapplied the ring a few times before it faded too much, but it looks like it didn't grow at all. In fact, I think it may have faded out a bit. Maybe it is just a mole, or a really big freckle?”

“We'll see,” he said, rolling over to her as he lifted his hands. Gently, he maneuvered her breast to get a better view, tilting his head. He was a doctor first and foremost and he was going to make sure she was well before he allowed his mind to wander too much to what...other things he could be thinking about.

“How does it look?” she asked, doing her best to keep her voice as neutral as possible. Apparently, though, all of her furious masturbating to his memory did not quell the thirst she felt for him. The heat simmered all the same low in her loins just the same to see him examine her sensitive flesh.

“It looks better--perhaps even smaller than before. It could have just been some dirt or something embedded in the skin, and as your skin cells shed, it could be taking the dirt with it. Sort of like when you have permanent marker on there,” he explained, clicking his tongue softly.

“So I panicked and wasted your time for nothing?” she frowned. Damnit, Rose!

“I wouldn't say wasted,” he shrugged. “If you're ever concerned about your body, then I definitely encourage you to seek medical help, even if it turns out to be nothing,” he said, smiling softly up at her.

“I guess that’s true,” she replied thoughtfully, even as she felt herself getting pulled in by this gaze. He was far too beautiful, it wasn’t fair. “And you did remind me about doing a breast exam. I’m a bit behind on most of my medical appointments, but I knew that sunbathing had risks and I didn’t want to ignore something if it were serious.”

“It looks like you tan rather well,” he commented, nodding slightly to the golden skin that haunted his dreams.

Why was his hand still on her breast?

She blinked once, but the spell was still just as strong. “Thanks,” she whispered. Once more, the tip of her tongue darted out to lick at her bottom lip, pulling the corner back in so that she could bite at it. Holy shit, he was still touching her. She wanted him to touch her more.

“You're welcome,” he murmured, eyes on her mouth. He could feel the air around them becoming a bit heavier, the way her pulse jumped in her neck, and how her eyes dilated mostly black. He could read the signs of arousal anywhere, and his hand twitched slightly in response, giving the faintest hint of a massage.

“So. What next?” she asked quietly, biting back a moan. She arched up ever so slightly into his hand, desperate to get his thumb to brush her nipple. Was that really so much to ask?

The words came forward before he could stop them, before he could somehow make his mind wrap around the words and processing what he was saying. “You like this, don't you?”

“I--yes,” she confessed, closing her eyes for a moment to focus on the feeling. She didn’t want to see if he looked disgusted or angry, although the fact that his hand was still on her breast in the first place was definitely a good sign. She hoped, at least.

“What do you want from me, Miss Johnson? I can see the way your pupils expand when I come closer. I can see the flush on your cheeks, your heart thumping against my palm. What do you want?” he whispered, leaning forward to capture her eyes with his own.

“I--I shouldn't ask, it's violently inappropriate,” the voice of reason spoke through her mouth. Which was why she very deliberately pressed up into his hand harder, a gasp of pleasure slipping past her lips. Her eyes, though, never once wavered from his.

“Say it,” he coaxed gently, unsure what strange force was taking control of him. He never, never in his wildest dreams would have thought that he'd do this. This was his professional career on the line. Should anyone find out about how far this was going (and they hadn't even done anything, really), then he was fucked.

“Touch me,” she asked, nearly needy a whimper. Shit, she was going to hell.

“I could get fired,” he whispered, his hand moving of its own accord. “I could get my license revoked.”

His dropped his eyes down to the breast in his palm, staring at it in wonder as he brushed his thumb over her nipple, back and forth. He still had his gloves on, but he hardly noticed, his lips parting softly.

“I won't tell,” she promised. Another whimper slipped out, a throaty moan to follow. She needed to keep quiet, she knew she did, but god this felt good. And he’d hardly done anything yet! “God, Dr. Solo,” she moaned.

“Quiet,” he commanded, giving her breast a harder squeeze in warning. “Listen to me very carefully, Miss Johnson; if this is what you want, this will be the only time I do this in this building. If you change your mind, simply say the word and I'll stop, but if you don't, I am going to bend you over this table and have my way with you. And you're going to stay quiet, like the good girl I know you are. Aren't you?”

He waited briefly for an acknowledgement before he continued.

“And when I'm done, and I've filled you up like I know we've both been thinking about, you're going to leave here with my come soaking your underwear, and never breathe a word about this to anyone. Do you understand?”

His other hand slid up over her knee, his thumb caressing over the fabric of her skirt as he held her eyes.

“Yes, Dr. Solo,” she whispered, already shivering in anticipation of more to come. And come she planned for them to both do. If they weren't on the limited timeline of her appointment slot, she would have slid off the table and dropped to her knees before him to start this off right. As it were, they had to settle for a quick, quiet fuck. But he seemed to hint at the possibility for more and she'd be doing all she could to ensure that.

“Good girl--now stand up and turn around,” he instructed lowly as he rose to his own feet and pushed the stool back for more room. He eyed his gloves briefly, debating on whether or not he wanted to leave them on.

“Yes, Dr. Solo,” she said, sliding immediately off the table and turning around. “Like this?”

Stepping up behind her, he found the zipper on her skirt and pulled it down, giving a gentle push to that and her underwear before watching the fabric fall and pool around her feet.

“Step out,” he instructed, before reaching down and coaxing one of her legs up with a hand around her thigh, his other hand secure around her hips to steady her as he spread her wide. Placing her foot on the edge of the table, he smiled deviously and whispered, “Be quiet or people will come in, and then they'll see you just like this.”

She shivered, delicious anticipation for what he was about to do meeting the idea of it being so, so wrong. But fuck if she didn't want this more than she ever wanted sex before. Most guys only ever made her feel lukewarm. Dr. Solo made her feel like she was in a volcano.

“I--I've never done this before. I mean, I've had sex, I just haven't done this,” she said quietly, feeling the need to explain.

“I've got you. Just hush and relax,” he breathed against the shell of her ear, pressing his body against her back.

His hand slid around the curve of her thigh, moving inward and down. “What do you want, Miss Johnson?”

“You,” she breathed, afraid of saying more. She could feel how positively sopping she was. She hoped he wasn't put off by it.

He made a noise in the back of his throat, a clicking tone as he finally let his fingers come in contact with her. “So wet--how long have you been this wet?” he rasped as he lowered his mouth to the slope of where her neck met her shoulder.

She gasped and shuddered, trying so hard to keep the keen at the back of her throat at bay.

“Since--since before. I've come thinking about you so much, but it's never enough,” she confessed, arching her ass up at him. He still had clothes on. This was torture.

“What do you need? Tell me,” he urged, nosing at the side of her neck as his fingers began working, sliding along her warmth. He gave a soft sigh against her skin, eyes sliding shut as he rolled his index finger over her clit.

“Inside me,” she panted. Her hands turned to claws as she dug into the cushioned bench, her whimpers soft. It was hard, so hard, but she knew she needed to be quiet or he'd stop. “Your cock inside me.”

Smirking smugly, he pressed a soft kiss to her flesh as he stroked her faster, harder, his fingers relentless as he dipped two inside of her, practically commanding her to come for him. “You come right here on my hand and I'll give you what you want, Miss Johnson.”

To make his point, he ground himself against her backside.

She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. She could feel him between her cheeks, hot and hard and huge. And his thumb on her clit was heaven and hell, not to mention how full of his fingers she was. She couldn't believe how full she felt simply from his fingers, and she shuddered for more. He was stroking her so well, working her body like an expert, the fingers inside targeting the textured part inside of her and stroking, stroking--

Ah!” she gasped out, high pitched and nearly silent. Her whole body seized and she had to collapse forward onto her elbows, her body far too weak to hold herself up. She could feel her come leaking out of her and she mewled softly at the sensation of his body above hers.

His pants unzipped a moment later as he pushed his hips far enough from hers to work them down. His coat stayed on, his pants getting pushed down around his thighs soon after.

“I'm going to give you what you want now,  Miss Johnson. I'm going to fuck you hard, and you're going to come around my cock until you can barely stand it. Got it?” he whispered as he folded his body over hers to breathe it against her ear.

“Yes, Dr. Solo,” she whimpered, already craving more. The endorphins from her orgasm were coursing through her and she felt so good. She hoped she could bring him pleasure, too. He definitely deserved to feel like he was making her feel, blissed out and thoroughly pleasured. And he hadn't even fucked her yet.

“Good girl,” he praised softly, sliding his hands back down to her hips to encourage her up onto her toes. One disappeared from her body to position himself, and then he was sliding in, sheathing himself inside of her with one firm thrust. He hissed as she clenched around him, and without giving her body much time to acclimate, he pulled out to the head of him and thrusted back inside. Almost instantly, he pumped his hips against her again to set a brutal pace, too caught up in whatever she'd done to him to even dare think about going slow.

She gasped, needing so desperately to scream out. She brought a hand up to bite at her knuckle, trying to keep her sounds contained. He felt so fucking good , fucking up into her with wild abandon. She'd never been fucked so good before, and they'd only just begun.

“D--Dr. Solo, fuck,” she panted out.

He barely faltered in his thrusts, pressing his body closer to hers as he reached around and covered her mouth.

“Quiet!” he hissed into her ear, tugging on the lobe with his teeth.

She nodded, frantic. Swallowing her moans was torture, but the low murmur of a patient in the next room speaking with a nurse was enough to cause her to close her mouth, even if the sound still clawed at her throat. Her eyes rolled back in her head, though, and she could feel herself beginning to perspire. She was going to come soon, she knew it. Did he want to come, too? Was this good for him? God, she hoped so.

Keeping his own voice barely above a whisper, save for the brief falters while fucking hard into her, he said, “If I take my hand from your mouth, are you going to stay quiet? Are you going to take my cock like the good little girl you are? Silently?”

Again, she nodded, though the urge to scream out was getting more and more intense. She heard new voices out in the hall, other patients and employees oblivious to what was happening. Remembering the repercussions for them both if anyone found out, she committed to staying silent.

Even as her second orgasm ripped through her, hard and blinding. Her knees buckled and she had one quick second to react to stop the one she was standing on from hitting the table. While the sound wouldn't have been so suspicious, she didn't want to draw attention to them.

Catching her hips easily, he lifted her ass back up into the air, supporting the majority of her weight as he hissed, “I'm not done with you yet, Miss Johnson. Not--just--yet.”

He made a soft grunt, his jaw tight as he leaned back to stare down at her ass. So wonderfully tanned, warm and inviting. He just wanted to touch her everywhere, wanted to feel that skin against his own. She was perfect, and while he knew her body was spent, he still couldn't help wanting to prolong this as much as possible.

“God, you feel so good, clenching that perfect cunt of yours around me so beautifully. You like me to fuck you like this? Have you thought about it a lot?” he breathed, finding it in him somehow to fuck her harder, deeper, angling himself into the spots that had made her body tremble before.

Honestly, fuck him for trying to ask her questions while her mind was goo. What the fuck kind of shape was she in for this? And she wasn't supposed to talk! Didn't he know that men's voices carried further than women's? So instead of arguing or any of that, she just nodded again, choking down yet another moan of pleasure at his hand. He was fucking her so good and deep, as if he'd always known how to make her sing. It was almost unfair, really.

“I think you've got one more in you, don't you?” he murmured, his voice low and soft. He held back a groan as he felt his own orgasm growing, threatening to overtake him. Ben furrowed his brow, feeling a slight sheen of sweat beginning around his hairline with the exertion, but he wanted this to last. If this was to be the only time he did this, he wanted to be memorable for her. Chances were she didn't make a habit about doing this with her doctors, just as he didn't make a habit of doing this with his patients.

It was morally and ethically wrong, as he was a man in a position of authority over her, and she was his patient. She could claim sexual harassment and then his medical license would be revoked, and she could file some sort of malpractice lawsuit against him.

The thought alone was almost enough to make him stop, to kill his erection, but she so clearly wanted this, as he'd told her to tell him to stop if she wanted to.

She nodded again, already feeling her third threatening to make its appearance. Something passed through her mind that she was ruined forever, that no one would ever fuck her this good again. She was going to be stuck chasing this feeling for the rest of her life. It was so unfair.

She wanted to beg him to come for her, to fill her up. She wanted to tell him how good this felt. She wanted to scream his name. It was Ben, right? Yeah, Ben. Fuck yeah, Ben. Ben knew how to do the thing good. And she wanted to fuck Ben again.

Digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her hips, he held her in place as he slammed in and out of her, knowing that he was close, as well. It was right there, so close, but he wanted that last one from her first.

“You--come one more time--” he panted between erratic, frantic thrusts, “And I'll--I'll give you mine. I'll give you my come--fill that pretty pussy of yours all the way up.”

Somewhere in Rey's mind, she thought about birth control. They were both being highly irresponsible and strangely trusting.  

With partners in the past, it took forever to come, if she did at all. But he somehow knew just where to hit, and how to hit it repeatedly. She couldn't remember the last time she had come this many times. But there it was, all at once, a hard orgasm that shook her whole body, hard and absolutely beautiful.

She had no idea how she kept her mouth shut.

It took every ounce of will power he had not to moan out loud as her body constricted around his, forcing him into the most powerful orgasm of his life. His hips finally stilled, his body shaking softly. He didn't think he'd ever come so fucking hard or so much in his entire life. His body stiffened, a carnal sounding grunt managing to slip out anyway.

He supposed he could always say he'd stubbed his toe or something to cover the noise if necessary.

When it had finally passed and the only noise left was their heavy breathing, he rubbed his thumbs softly into her skin to soothe any marks before he reached down and grabbed her panties, tugging them up for her to catch the mess that slid out as he did.

She was a whimpering mess, and now she was a dirty whimpering mess. It felt so right and so wrong and she loved it. She wanted more of it.

“Again?” she panted. “Later. Not here. Today?”

She hoped her words were coherent.

“Greedy little thing, aren't you?” he asked, taking in his own deep breaths.

She looked back at him, trying to gauge his reaction. That wasn't a no, which felt encouraging. Like maybe he would?

Whelp, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“Yes. And I want you again ,” she said. Finally, she straightened, beginning to reach for her clothes. “But I understand if you don't. If this was just a one time thing for you, it was great. But I figured we could skip the bullshit of wondering and get right to the “do you want to do this again?” part.”

“I like how direct you are. Therefore...My place. Tonight,” he replied, fixing his own pants. He grabbed a little notepad used to write prescriptions on and he carefully pulled off the top paper before scribbling his address down.

He didn't need anyone to be able to see the imprint of his writing into the pad below. Handing it to her, he looked her over again, raising a slow eyebrow. “Leave those on until then,” he murmured, nodding to her underwear.

She slid the piece of paper into her bra for safe keeping. “Yes, Dr. Solo. What time is my appointment?” she asked with a smirk. She was so proud of herself, and she couldn't wait to tell Rose! Shy Rey who??

“Ten,” he replied, staring into her eyes with an intensity that said he would throw her down and fuck her again right here if he hadn't just come. “I have a meeting with my parents first.”

“Sounds good to me.” She stepped up to him and pushed up in her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She was allowed to do that, right? As she came back down, she gave him a soft smile. “I'll see you then.”

“You can be as loud as you want then,” he smirked back at her, deciding to just go for it.

He leaned down after her, grabbed her jaw in his hand, and held her still while he pressed his mouth to hers. It was hot and hard, and he figured why not, since he'd already been buried deep inside of her as far as she could take him. He owned her mouth, and when he pulled away, he gave another smirk.

“See you at ten, Miss Johnson.”