Work Text:
You weren’t quite sure what had happened.
One second, you were having a very, very hot make-out session with your favourite doctor. It was the first time you’d seen each other in a couple of weeks, thanks to your heart condition, you were perched on his lap in his office chair, grinding shamelessly against his cock.
Exactly where you wanted to be, after all, you’d worn his favourite backless dress for you.
The next second, a sharp knock on the door made him stiffen. Before you could react, Zayne’s hand was on your head, pushing you down as he guided you quickly to your knees, hiding you beneath his large antique mahogany desk.
To be fair, there wasn’t anywhere else for you to go, especially since he’d already undone the ties of your dress, leaving your breasts completely exposed.
Which could have been easy to explain away as part of your heart “check-up” appointment, if they weren’t shiny with saliva and sporting three big and red bite marks.
“Y-yes, come in.” Zayne’s voice came out gravelly, but he quickly schooled his expression into his usual stoic mask.
“Excuse me, Dr. Zayne,” Yvonne said as she stepped inside, heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. “Here’s the report you requested from the Myers surgery.”
“Thank you. Yvonne.”
You weren’t surprised to discover Zayne was an excellent actor. To anyone else, his exterior looked perfectly composed, cool and professional as always. But all those months you spent circling each other like horny sharks, you came to know his aroused tells.
His glasses were sitting a little too low on the bridge of his nose, the tips of his ears were bright red, the top button of his shirt was undone, and his forearms were on full display as he rested them on the desk. And of course, there was the very obvious, very hard cock still straining against his pants just inches from your face.
“Where’s your…” Yvonne’s voice turned saccharine, “little friend?”
Your eye twitched.
You and Yvonne had a little bit of a beef, to put it mildly. She’d once turned you away at the front desk, claiming Zayne was much too busy for visitors. You might have actually believed her if you didn’t have his private number, which you used immediately to text him and ask why the pointy-faced lady at reception wouldn’t let you through, and he'd immediately come out to get you.
Then there was the time she asked if it was normal for Hunters to always look so disheveled… and “not exactly in shape.”
You’d stopped saying hello after that, choosing instead to walk straight past her desk and down to his office every time. Her stink-eye followed you the whole way.
Safe to say, not one of your favourite people you’d met in the hospital.
Your hands tightened on Zayne’s thighs, the simmering rage at her being the one to interrupt you making you squeeze harder than before.
He tensed under your grip and shot you a quick warning look, pretending to be busy as he typed what was probably complete nonsense on the monitor.
Zayne stayed silent, cocking his head in an unspoken question.
“The hunter girl that comes around…” you heard Yvonne’s heels click as she walked further into the office, “the desperate-looking one.”
You nearly gasped in indignation. Desperate?!
“She’s gone home for the day,” Zayne replied smoothly. “She had some health concerns about her heart and I gave her some medical advice.”
The fucking nerve of him.
You expected him to back you up a little, something like “Yes, my very strong, very sexy, hunter girlfriend is under the desk, considering putting her hands on my very erect cock. Please leave so she can do so.”
But he didn’t. And you did not like that. Not one bit.
More than a little pissed off, you dragged your nails harshly and slowly up his thighs, from his knees to his inner thighs. His cock twitched hard in his pants, and his legs instinctively tried to shift shut.
But you were already wedged firmly between them, he couldn’t move without making it obvious.
“Oh, I thought you two were…” Yvonne trailed off suggestively, “or is it just an unrequited crush she has on you?”
You’d show her fucking unrequited.
Your hand slid over the thick tent in his pants, stroking him slowly through the fabric. Zayne shot you another sharp look, the blush on his cheeks growing more pronounced. He tried to bat your hand away, but you caught his finger between your teeth and bit down.
He grasped your face harshly, still typing with his other hand, pressing your cheeks together as he gave you another warning look. You’d never seen him look so mad.
“She’s a childhood friend,” he answered, his deep baritone voice perfectly steady.
The moment his voice rumbled through the room, you used the cover to unzip his pants and free his cock.
God… you took a second just to admire it. He wasn’t excessively long, but he was deliciously thick, the flushed pink head already glistening. He was leaking so much precum it dripped slowly down the shaft, making the entire length shiny and slick. The sight made your mouth water.
Not one to deny yourself anything, you leaned forward and licked up the slow, descending drip of his precum. The taste went straight to your pussy, drenching your underwear further.
Zayne jerked in his chair, his cock bumping against your cheek. He shuffled slightly as he tried to pass it off as readjusting his posture in the chair.
Emboldened, and already a little cock drunk, you tugged his pants and underwear down further, freeing his balls as well. You pressed your lips to the smooth, satin skin there, licking and kissing slowly, spreading your saliva with lazy strokes of your tongue. You rubbed your face against him shamelessly, coating your lips and cheeks with the warm, musky scent of him.
His cock twitched hard above your face and his hips gave a tiny, barely controlled jerk, subtly shoving his cock against your face as if begging for attention. You heard the soft creak of leather as his fingers tightened on the armrest of his chair, and his breathing hitched for a split second before he forced it steady again.
“Of course” she laughed “Surely a doctor as decorated as yourself would have much better romantic prospects… “ she trailed off.
You continued licking him, letting your tongue travel slowly up his thick shaft with barely any pressure, giving his frenulum repeated teasing little licks like you had all the time in the world. Because right now, this was purely for your fun. And his torture.
You gave him one slow, broad lick with the flat of your tongue, then leaned forward and took the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip and sucking lightly.
You heard his typing abruptly pause. His breath staggered for a split second.
“–Perhaps someone also in the medical field?” Yvonne pressed.
“I don’t have time for such commitments at the moment,” Zayne replied, his voice low but a tiny breathier.
You wondered just how far you could push him.
“Honestly, it’s surprising a man as handsome and accomplished as you…” Yvonne’s voice drifted as she wandered around his office. She sounded like she was facing the window now, “is still single.”
You filed the information that Yvonne was blatantly thirsty for your man somewhere in the back of your brain. You were far too preoccupied to dwell on it right now.
Seizing the opportunity, you opened your mouth wider and took him as deep as you could. This was the point where you’d usually gag or moan, or both, but you fought hard to stay completely silent. Saliva and precum pooled at your lips, leaking messily down his shaft and onto his thigh. You held him there, throat fluttering around his thick length, savouring the heavy, pulsing heat of him on your tongue.
You dared to look up.
Yvonne must not have been facing him, because if she had, she would have seen everything. Zayne’s mouth was slightly open, his breathing deep and quiet, and his eyes were glazed with raw lust as he stared down at you. He was flushed deep red, from the tips of his ears all the way across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
It was the most beautiful and erotic thing you’d ever seen, you almost moaned on his cock, and he must’ve seen it, the way his hand came to your head, stroking your cheek, shaking his head imperceptibly as if he didn’t know if he wanted to push you away or pull your head hard against his cock.
Heat flooded between your legs, and you could feel how soaked you already were. Without thinking, you shifted on your knees and spread your thighs a little wider, the cool air brushing against your dripping folds. Your free hand sneaked down under the hem of your dress, grazing your core through your slick panties with a shaky touch.
Just a little touch, you told yourself.
“Are you taking anyone to the gala?” Yvonne asked, you heard her pick up and put down an object, still facing away.
You pulled off his cock with a soft, wet squelch, strings of saliva and precum still connecting your swollen lips to his flushed tip. Looking straight up at him, you gave Zayne the most wicked smile you could manage as you deliberately spread your thighs a little wider, making it blatantly obvious where your other hand was playing lightly between your legs.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Basking in his undivided attention, you gathered your own slick wetness onto your palm and wrapped it around his throbbing cock. You thought he had been holding himself stiffly before… you were wrong.
Innocently batting your lashes at him, you stroked him once, twice, then leaned forward and sealed your lips around his engorged head, sucking hard while your hand worked the rest of his shaft with the exact rhythm you knew drove him crazy.
Zayne’s eyes squeezed shut. He had stopped typing completely.
“Dr. Zayne?” Yvonne called over her shoulder when she didn’t get a reply.
“Hm?” The low sound that left him was barely a hum, it came out dangerously close to a moan. His head fell back against the chair, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. You alternated between firm sucks and feather-light ones, never letting up with your hand.
If he were on your bed instead, he would have grabbed you and flipped you over already. You’d never gotten him to cum in your mouth.
Today could be the day.
“Are you taking anyone to the gala?” Yvonne asked again, her voice dripping with hope. “I’m attending as always, and I thought… perhaps we could go together this year?”
Zayne wasn’t listening.
He straightened in his chair and awkwardly manoeuvred his leg under the desk. You almost whined in protest as his shin pressed firmly against your chest, smooshing your breasts together. He gave you a pointed, warning look, fingers threading into your hair to pull you off his cock for a moment before pushing down on your shoulder, silently ordering you to move.
Oh.
As your body obediently followed his guidance, your soaked pussy dragged along the smooth leather of his dress shoe. The sudden friction made your eyes roll back.
You felt filthy, desperate.
He was throbbing wildly against your tongue, his balls drawn up tight, heavy and tense, a clear sign he was dangerously close. The realisation only made you wetter, grind on his shoe harder. You moaned softly around his cock, unable to help yourself, and doubled down, sucking him harder while dragging your dripping cunt shamelessly against his shoe.
“Dr. Zayne!” Yvonne laughed, finally turning around, which made him break eye contact with you.. “Are you listening to— Oh my goodness!. Are you feeling well? You look so feverish–”
You felt his cock twitch violently in your mouth as you took him deeper, throat tightening around him. Tears were escaping your eyes, and your pussy trembled, and you realised the joke was now on you as you were likely to cum on his fucking shoe–
“I’m fine,” Zayne bit out, voice strained and curt.
“Did I… fluster you, Dr. Zayne?” she asked, sounding far too pleased.
“No, I just—”
You swirled your tongue around his leaking tip and squeezed his balls gently with your free hand, feeling them tighten even more. Your other hand, coming to anchor around his leg as you ground yourself against him harder.
“I can help you with that—” her tone was seductive, and she was coming closer.
“No, Yvonne,” he cut her off sharply. “No need. I-I’ll consider your proposal and let you know before the end of the day.”
His thigh trembled against your cheek. He was right on the edge.
“But Dr.—”
“You may leave. Now.”
There was a painful beat of silence. You heard Yvonne shift on her heels, as if hesitating, clearly wanting to push back and stay. Zayne’s cock throbbed violently in your mouth, the thick head leaking against your tongue.
You fought the urge to moan around him, throat fluttering with the effort of staying quiet.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Yvonne let out a small, disappointed huff. “Of course, Dr. Zayne. I’ll… see you later.”
Her heels clicked once. Twice. Then a third time as she slowly walked toward the door.
The sound of Yvonne’s heels faded down the hallway.
The second the noise disappeared, you took him to the back of your throat with a wet gag and moaned loudly around his cock, desperate to finally have him cum in your mouth. His balls were painfully tight. He made a devastating sound between a moan and a growl, thighs tensing. You felt the first powerful throb against your tongue—
Suddenly, Zayne yanked your head back hard by your hair, ripping his cock from your mouth with a filthy pop.
You let out a broken, pitiful whine, tears spilling down your cheeks instantly.
“No” you whimpered, beyond disappointed. “You were about to cum down my throat–”
He was completely hunched forward, his usual ice-cold composure shattered. His dark hair was disheveled, strands falling messily over his forehead, eyes wide and feral. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, cheeks flushed deep red, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened at his temple.
A thick string of saliva and precum still connected your trembling lips to his throbbing cock. You tried to lean forward to take him back in, but his grip on your hair kept you cruelly in place.
Zayne leaned over you, breathing hard, eyes dark with lust and frustration. “Did I tell you to stop fucking yourself against my shoe?” he growled.
A sharp slap landed on your breast, making it jiggle. He immediately pinched your sensitive nipple, twisting just enough to make you gasp. You moaned pitifully, hips jerking as you rubbed your soaked, aching pussy harder against the now-slick leather of his shoe.
“What possessed you to do that, hm?” he was livid at you, watching as you ground yourself hard against him. The lewd, wet sounds of your pussy sliding against his dress shoe filled the office. “Acting like a desperate little slut under my desk while someone else was in the room. Were you trying to get us caught?”
You shook your head, tears still falling, but your hips never stopped moving.
“You were just so desperate for my cock you couldn’t wait five minutes?” he snarled, eyes dark with lust and anger. He slapped your other breast, the sharp sound echoing under the desk as your soft flesh rippled and turned a deeper shade of red.
You moaned loudly, hips grinding frantically against his shoe. His jaw was clenched tight, brows furrowed, and his gaze burned.
“Answer me.”
“Y-yes I w-was desperate-” you whined “W-wanted you to cum down my throat–”
Your hips stuttered.
“My needy brat going to cum already?” he asked mockingly, god he knew you so well. “Why should I fucking let you?”
“I’ll do anything you want,” you sobbed.
“Anything?”
“Y-yes, p-please Zayne—”
“Ask nicely.”
“Pretty please, Dr. Zayne… can I please cum?” you begged, tears clinging to your lashes.
“And you need to cum because you’re a…?” he pressed, voice low and dangerous. His face hovered above you, flushed and intense.
“B-because I’m desperate—” you cried quietly, embarrassed.
He slapped your breast again, much harder, you yelped, and he watched intently as the flesh turned an even hotter red under his palm.
“Again. Louder. Tell me exactly what you are.”
“I’m Dr. Zayne’s desperate little slut,” you sobbed, voice breaking with humiliation, pain and overwhelming pleasure, “and I’ll cum only when he wants me to—!”
His thumb brushed across your bottom lip almost tenderly.
“Then cum.”
You ground down hard one last time, sobbing his name as your orgasm crashed through you. Your thighs shook violently, pussy gushing all over his expensive leather shoe as you rode out every pulse of pleasure.
You were still panting, core throbbing and head spinning, when Zayne’s low voice cut through the haze.
“Now clean it up.”
He pulled you forward by your hair, not as harsh as you’d expected, your body pliant and spent, guiding your face down toward his shoe. The sight of your own release glistening on the leather made your face burn.
You hesitated for half a second.
His voice dropped into something dangerously soft as he gently petted your head. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”
Whimpering, you obeyed. You dragged your tongue slowly across the top of his dress shoe, tasting the salty-sweet mix of your own cum and the smooth leather. You licked every trace of your mess with long, obedient strokes, cheeks wet with tears and burning with shame.
You hadn’t even been at it for a full minute before Zayne was already coaxing you up. Strong arms slid under your armpits as he lifted you effortlessly, pulling you onto his lap.
“Such a good girl,” he murmured against your ear, voice low and warm with praise. “My pretty princess… you’re so obedient when you want to be.”
He positioned you so you were straddling him, just like before the interruption, but then gently guided you to lean back until your forearms rested on the desk behind you. The new angle left you beautifully spread open for him.
Zayne’s gaze darkened as he drank in the sight: your tear-streaked cheeks, swollen lips, bright red breasts covered in his handprints and bite marks, and your puffy, dripping pussy glistening with arousal.
He was surprisingly gentle as he lined himself up and slowly sank you down onto his cock. The stretch made you moan, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. He watched intently as every thick inch disappeared inside you, his hands gripping your waist to control the slow, deep rhythm.
“Such an attention-seeking brat,” he breathed, voice rough with lingering lust as he drew lazy circles around your swollen clit. “My needy girl…”
You trembled on his cock, moaning softly at the overstimulation. He kept the pace torturously slow, letting you feel every inch as he fucked you.
“I’ll cum where I want… and when I want,” he reminded you, eyes locked on where you two were joined. “And today, the only place I want to cum is right here, deep inside this pretty pussy.”
Your second orgasm was already building embarrassingly fast. Your thighs shook as you whimpered, grinding down to meet his shallow thrusts.
“I’m going to fill you up, sweet girl,” he whispered, voice strained. “Is that good enough for you? Or do you still want it down your throat?”
You shook frantically, tears of pleasure slipping down your cheeks.
“Please, Dr. Zayne…I want it in-inside–”
That seemed to break him. With a low groan, Zayne buried himself deep and came hard, pulsing inside you. The feeling of his warm cum flooding your pussy pushed you over the edge right after him. You whined his name softly, clenching around him as you came.
He stayed buried inside you for a long moment, breathing heavily, before finally pulling out. With two fingers, he spread your puffy folds apart, watching with a devout satisfaction as his cum slowly dripped out of you.
“Was I too rough?” he asked quietly, the ever-present note of concern lacing his voice.
“Not any more than I wanted,” you mumbled, giving him a small, satisfied smile. That seemed to satisfy his guilt, his gaze turning softer.
You stayed draped over him, boneless and jelly-like, trying to catch your breath. Your mind was still floating in a blissful haze when something finally nagged at you.
“Yvonne was hitting on you,” you mumbled, voice hoarse.
“Hm.” Zayne hummed, almost absentmindedly, as his fingers pushed the leaking cum back into you.
“Zayne!” you squeaked, blushing hard as you batted his hand away.
“She can’t come with me to the gala,” he said calmly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
You blinked. “And why is that?”
He looked straight into your eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Because you’re coming with me.”
“Since when?” you asked, surprised.
“I emailed you the invite, a few minutes ago.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” He leaned in and pressed a slow kiss between your breasts, then another, gently kneading the tender, reddened flesh as if apologizing for how roughly he’d handled them earlier. “Thank Yvonne, actually. She reminded me.”
You glanced behind you at his monitor. Sure enough, his email inbox was open, along with several patient charts much further along than when you first sat on his lap. He really had been working while you were under the desk.
You let out a soft laugh, threading your fingers through his dark hair as he continued kissing and soothing your breasts with his lips and tongue.
“I thought you were just pretending to type,” you murmured, kissing his temple.
“Why would I pretend?” he asked, voice low and slightly amused. His hands moved to the ties of your dress, carefully fixing them and covering you up again.
“I— nevermind.”
He finished adjusting your dress, then looked up at you with that signature calm expression.
Something still nagged. “You want to take a childhood friend to your work gala?”
“Don’t read too much into it,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose over his glasses. “I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time.”
“Sure you weren’t,” you teased, rolling your eyes.
Zayne’s eye twitched. He gave you a long-suffering look before pulling you in for a slow, deep kiss, his hand cupping the back of your neck.
You eventually relented, blaming the mind-blowing sex for your lack of resistance, and let the topic drop.
Zayne helped you put yourself back together, smoothing down your hair, wiping the tear tracks from your cheeks, and making sure your dress properly covered the red marks and bite prints on your breasts. Once you looked presentable (as much as possible), he walked you out of his office with a hand resting possessively on your lower back.
Of course, Yvonne was still at her desk, filing away at her nails.
She turned toward the sound of the door with a hopeful little smile, which immediately froze and turned into wrinkled confusion the moment she saw you. Her eyes drifted down, taking in your slightly disheveled state, flushed cheeks, and the faint redness on your chest that the dress couldn’t fully hide. Her face went bright red before she quickly looked away.
You glanced up at Zayne. His expression remained mostly stoic, but you caught the faint, amused glint in his eyes and the tiniest smirk tugging at his lips.
“She’s definitely going to ban me from the hospital after this,” you muttered under your breath.
“If she does,” he said calmly. “I’ll fire her.”
Before you could respond, he pulled you into a deep, unhurried kiss right there in the hallway, slow, claiming, and deliberately possessive. When he finally pulled back, your knees were weak again and a few people had stopped to stare.
“I’ll see you tonight, sweet girl.” he murmured against your lips.
You walked out of the hospital with a satisfied smile, already thinking of which stores to check for very sexy backless dresses.