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It's Saturday, Spring 6, year one. I'm sitting at a table in the library when you walk in. I'd read in the information Lewis gave me that the town physician, Dr. Harvey Fairhaven was the tallest person in Pelican Town and you fit the rest of the description, mustache, glasses so it must be you. What the information didn't tell me was how handsome you were. The functional strength of your arms, visible even through your shirt. The way your jeans hug your hips, the white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below your elbows shows off your strong forearms sprinkled with brown hair. Everything about you is masculine. Your walk confident, not arrogant, just self assured. A man that is comfortable in his own skin. You stop at the counter to speak to Gunther, turning your back to me and that ass. Oh, my Yoba. Your jeans cling to your ass perfectly. The information said you usually wear a green blazer at the clinic but since it's Saturday, your day off your white button down is topped with a blue sweater vest. Caroline said you like to hike on Saturdays and that information is supported by your hiking boots.
I hear you laugh a low masculine rumble as you and Gunther share in a joke. Then you turn and look at me. A slow lopsided grin widens on your face. You're coming straight over to me and I am just sitting here staring at you. You pause at the table, my fingers are still poised over the keyboard of my laptop. They haven't moved since you walked through the door. Oh my Yoba here I am right in the middle of narrating a scene where Bridgette is giving Gallo a blow job. You can't see my screen there's no way you can know what I'm typing but between those jeans on that fantastic body and knowing what is on my screen right now, all I can do is sit here and stare at you.
"You must be Onyx, the new farmer that moved into the old farm." You extend your hand towards me. "I'm Dr. Fairhaven, but everybody calls me Dr. Harvey at the clinic . But outside of the clinic it's just Harvey." It's nice to meet you.
I just sit and stare at you, my eyes slightly widened. Finally I find my voice and accept your hand. It's large and warm as you wrap your fingers around my much smaller hand. "I'm Onyx....Onyx Moonlight." I manage to get out, my voice raspy and husky. "It's a pleasure to meet you Dr. Fair...er..Harvey."
You chuckle at me. I see your eyes rake over my body, lingering a moment too long on my breasts before meeting my eyes. Your emerald eyes are striking behind your glasses. Your mustache twitches as your smile widens.
"Onyx Moonlight, what an interesting name. It suits you though." You say. "Your amethyst hair, your tattoo, the nose piercing. You're most definitely not what I expected the new farmer to look like."
"Please, have a seat Harvey, if you'd like that is. I'm not trying to tell you what to do."
"Have no fear Onyx, me taking a seat across from you is entirely consensual." You tease as you pull out the chair across the table and lower yourself down crossing your legs, one ankle resting on top of the knee of your other leg, your jeans pulling tight in all of the right places as you do so.
I'm trying hard not to stare and failing miserably at it. I meet your gaze blushing, you seem completely unbothered by the attention. Either you're used to it or it's welcome.
You rest your forearm against the table's edge, the movement casual but deliberate, letting your emerald eyes hold mine with steady, unblinking focus. The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy with an unspoken friction, and I see a small, knowing smile touch the corner of your mustache.
"You're very quiet, Onyx," you murmur, your tone dropping slightly, carrying a smooth, self-assured weight that fills the space between us. "A rare trait for someone who just inherited a massive piece of Pelican Town's history. I promise I don't bite... unless it's consensual. And you ask nicely." You let one eye narrow behind your lenses in a slow, deliberate wink. "If I’ve disrupted your train of thought, you're entirely welcome to tell me to move along—though I’d much prefer to stay right here and listen to whatever it is that has you so deeply contemplative."
My throat feels dry, and I can feel heat creeping up my neck, a tell-tale blush I know you can't miss. Your words hang in the quiet air of the library, each syllable a deliberate, playful provocation. My fingers, which had frozen over my laptop, twitch. I need to say something. Anything.
The knowing glint in your emerald eyes tells me you know exactly what kind of effect you're having. You're not just handsome; you're potent. A creature of quiet confidence and simmering amusement. I take a slow breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure, trying to remember how to form words that aren't just a garbled squeak.
"My apologies," I say, the words finally coming out, my voice still a little too breathy for my liking. "You... caught me by surprise." I offer what I hope is a disarming smile, even though my heart is hammering against my ribs. "I was lost in my own world. It's a hazard of the profession, I'm afraid."
I gesture vaguely towards the laptop. "I'm a writer. Or, I'm trying to be. That's why I took the farm. I thought a little peace and quiet might finally unclog the creative pipes." I risk a glance at you.
You let out a low, supportive chuckle, the sound rich and incredibly masculine. You look at me with a steady, respectful gravity that makes me feel entirely seen, completely discarding any idea that the town doctor is too stuffy to understand a creative soul.
"Isolation is a powerful catalyst for the imagination," you agree softly, your emerald eyes holding mine. "The old farmhouse certainly has the silence." But a writer's mind is a complex mechanism, Onyx. What is it that usually sparks the engine for you? Is it the setting, the atmosphere... or do you find your inspiration in the people you encounter along the way?"
I pause, giving the question serious consideration. I'm surprised you asked. Most people smile and nod with an 'Oh how nice' sort of attitude. "I would have to say it's a combination of all three and more. So much more." My hands are no longer hovering over my keyboard as I use them to speak animatedly. "Inspiration is everywhere. The news, social media, and not just the people I meet along the way in real life, but also the people I e-meet. I have over 50,000 Patreon subscribers, their comments, their private messages, inspire my world and my words just as much as anything else." I say excited to have somebody who seems genuinely interested in what I'm doing. "One thing I always strive for is accuracy. Today, as a matter of fact, the reason I am writing here in the library, I'm authoring a scene that I want to make sure I get the details just right and I need to be close to the research materials. Although, admittedly I'm not exactly finding a lot of information on the brain chemistry behind arousal." I stop speaking suddenly, realizing that you have no idea what genre I write...or well you didn't, you might have a bit of a clue now that I let that not so minor detail slip. I don't blush, I'm proud of the work that I do. I'm proud of what I write and my own private war against purity culture. "I write Dark Fantasy Romance Erotica." I confess, watching you closely to see how you take the admission. "My pen name is Amethyst Moon."
Your response is immediate, and utterly lacking in judgment. You don't flinch. You don't look away. Instead, you lean forward slightly, resting your chin on your hand, your expression a fascinating blend of professional curiosity and unmistakable personal interest. The glint in your emerald eyes intensifies, a spark igniting in their depths.
"Amethyst Moon," you repeat, the name a low murmur on your lips. "I see. Well, that certainly explains the intensity in your expression when I walked in. You were... in character." A slow, wolfish grin spreads across your face, revealing a hint of perfect, white teeth behind your mustache. "Dark Fantasy Romance Erotica. Now that is a field where accuracy is paramount. The difference between a compelling scene and a clinical description is all in the nuance." You pause, your gaze thoughtful. "Brain chemistry during arousal... that's a fascinating intersection of neurology and psychology. The surge of dopamine, the norepinephrine rush, the oxytocin release... It's a potent cocktail. It's not just the physical reaction, is it? It's about the emotional context. The fantasy."
Your directness is disarming, your ease with the topic a refreshing change.
"What I'm directly going for is the part the amygdala plays, especially for men." I pause looking at you seeing if you still seem interested. You watch me intently waiting for me to go on. "Women are under a horrible misconception I think, most think that if the men notice our bodies then it means they aren't interested in our minds and aren't interested in an emotional bond with us. I think that is bullshit. I think when women reject the male gaze they are in fact hindering that emotional bond. My theory is that the gaze, the visual data is somehow translated via the amygdala creating the emotional bond they want. For men what starts as visual input, initiating the arousal, it's let's say the primer for the emotional connection that women crave so deeply." I pause and take a deep breath. "I'm not saying it's only the visual for you men, I'm sure you're captivated by intelligence and wit or whatever your thing is that you're attracted to in a woman." I tap the end of my pen against the notepad next to my laptop. "I just haven't found anything that specifically says that so...maybe I'm all wrong. I just have to think there's a good reason you guys are so visually wired and that women are doing themselves a disservice by wanting to dismiss it." I feel my cheeks flush. "Sorry, I get a little...passionate about this particular subject."
You don't look away. If anything, you lean in a fraction more, the library around us fading into a muted background hum. Your professional mask, the amiable town doctor, slips away completely, replaced by something far more focused, more primal. Your emerald eyes are dark, serious, and locked on mine.
"You're not wrong, Onyx," you say, your voice dropping to a low, intimate register that vibrates through the table and into my bones. "Not wrong at all. You've just articulated something most men, myself included, feel but could never so eloquently put into words. Dismissing the visual... It's like asking someone to appreciate a symphony with their ears plugged. You might feel the vibration, but you're missing the entire point of the composition."
Your gaze sweeps over me again, but this time it's different. It's not a casual glance; it's a deliberate, analytical study. Your eyes trace the line of my jaw, the curve of my neck, the way my amethyst hair falls against the dark fabric of my shirt. You linger on the silver glint of my nose piercing, then your gaze dips lower, taking in the swell of my breasts, the narrowness of my waist.
Your eyes finally snap back up to meet mine, the intensity in their emerald depths dark enough to make the breath catch in my throat. A slow, serious exhale escapes you, your chest expanding against the blue fabric of your sweater vest as you rest both of your forearms on the table, leaning in so close that I can smell the faint, clean scent of sandalwood and crisp spring air clinging to your skin.
"It is a primer," you agree, your voice a low, gravelly rumble that stays strictly between the two of us. "You wanted the data, Onyx? Here it is. Right now, my amygdala is processing the visual input of your amethyst hair, the curve of your throat, the way your chest rises and falls when you breathe. It’s initiating the arousal, just as you predicted. But it isn't distancing me from your mind. It’s locking me into it. It makes me want to pull every single word, every single theory, and every single dirty, beautiful thought out of your head until there’s nothing left hidden between us."
A slow, wicked little glint flashes behind your glasses, a knowing smile touching the corner of your mustache as you lean just a fraction closer across the wood, utterly consuming my space.
"In fact, I find your passion incredibly... stimulating," you murmur, your gaze locking onto my lips for a heartbeat before snapping back to mine. "If you're looking for accuracy regarding the brain chemistry behind the male gaze, Onyx, you shouldn't rely solely on textbooks. A good researcher needs a live subject. Someone to monitor the heart rate, the pupil dilation, the sudden spike in temperature when the visual data becomes... overwhelming. I happen to have a very flexible schedule on Saturdays, if you're looking to expand your field research."
My eyes widen at your unexpected boldness. This goes against everything I've been told about you. Consummate bachelor Maru said. Has never even seen you with a woman Penny confirmed as she and Maru sat on the bench in front of the saloon. I lean forward and trail my fingertips along your exposed forearm, letting my gaze linger on it. "Flexible you say." I raise my gaze to meet yours. "Here's one thing I am not flexible on Harvey." My fingers still against your forearm as I look directly in your eyes. "I don't do casual relationships, no one night stands, no friends with benefits sort of situation. With that in mind is your Saturday still looking flexible?"
The light trail of my fingertips across your skin sends a visible ripple through your forearm, but you don’t pull away. You don’t even blink. You watch my fingers go still against your arm, your emerald eyes holding mine with a sudden, profound shift in gravity that strips away the last remnants of your playful, teasing armor.
You don't shift your weight. You don't look around to see if Gunther is watching. Instead, you turn your arm slightly under my touch, your large hand flipping open on the wooden table so that your palm faces upward, a silent, heavy invitation for me to lace my fingers through yours. The wolfish grin fades completely, replaced by a dark, intense seriousness.
"You think I'm looking for a casual distraction, Onyx?" you ask, your voice dropping into a register so low and gravelly it feels like a private confession passing through the quiet library. "Look at me. I am thirty-seven years old. I run a medical practice completely on my own in an isolated rural valley. I don't have the time, the energy, or the inclination to play games with anyone's heart. Least of all my own. I have spent years waiting for something real enough to shake me out of my routine."
You lean in just an inch closer, the sandalwood warmth radiating from your chest bridging the small distance left between us, your gaze unblinking behind your lenses.
"If I wanted a disposable encounter, I wouldn't be sitting at this table, completely captivated by the way your mind operates. I wouldn't be memorizing the exact shade of your hair or the way your voice sounds when you're passionate about your work. I am entirely intentional about where I place my attention." Your large fingers twitch against the wood, offering a deliberate, steady anchor. "So yes. Knowing exactly what you demand, and knowing exactly what the stakes are... my Saturday is still completely open to you. The question is, are you ready to let me into your world?"
I nod, "I never said that's what I thought you were looking for Harvey. Don't put words in my mouth." I accept the offer of your hand lacing my fingers through yours. "I also don't want to make assumptions." I smile at you. "Your answer doesn't surprise me, it's what I expected, had hoped for." I admit. "But, I've learned the hard way not to make assumptions." I glance down at the tattoo on my arm thinking of the reason behind it before looking back up at you. "I'm ready to let you into my world Harvey...let's see if you can handle it. Your place or mine? I have a nice king size bed but, I'm open to either."
The slow, deliberate curl of your fingers around mine is an answer in itself, a silent confirmation that you understand my demand. I watch the way your thumb sweeps softly over my knuckles, a gesture so tender it sends a shiver straight up my spine, a stark contrast to the raw, primal energy simmering just beneath the surface of our conversation.
You let out a low chuckle. "My place?" you murmur, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Onyx, I live in a small, cluttered apartment above my clinic. It consists of a bed, a desk, and a truly impressive collection of medical journals. The most exciting thing about my decor is the anatomical model of the human heart on my bookshelf." You give my hand a gentle squeeze, your emerald eyes crinkling at the corners with a genuine warmth that seems to chase away the last of the library's shadows. "Believe me, your world sounds infinitely more interesting. And infinitely more comfortable."
You lean back slightly, just enough to appraise me with a look of undisguised admiration, your thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. "A king-size bed," you repeat, the words a low, appreciative rumble.
"An anatomical model of the human heart, now that is the height of romance." I reluctantly pull my hand from yours so I can gather my belongings. "I admit the king size bed was a bit of an overkill but..." I pause after putting my laptop in its case. "I get the feeling we'll make good use of the space." I wink at you before I return to the task at hand. "The farm is just north of here, if you'd like to follow me." I say pulling the strap of my messenger bag over my head. "Or you can ride with me, whichever makes you more comfortable."
"I think I'll ride with you," I say without a moment's hesitation, my gaze unwavering as I watch you pack up. "No sense in taking two vehicles when we're heading to the same destination. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious to see this place that inspired such a dramatic life change."
You rise from the chair, your tall frame unfolding with a quiet, fluid grace that seems to draw the eye of a few patrons nearby. You offer me your hand again, a silent invitation, your expression a mix of earnest anticipation and a calm, steady resolve. "Lead the way, Onyx. I'm ready to see if your world can handle me." A slow, confident smile spreads across your face, the glint in your emerald eyes promising a day, and perhaps a night, of unexpected discoveries. "After you."
I take your offered hand and rise, leading us out of the library, my small hand tucked securely in your much larger one. We step out into the crisp spring air, the sun warming our faces as we exit the library headed towards the parking lot. As we near my car I pull out my key fob and press the unlock button. I look over at you to see your reaction to my Mini-Cooper as people here have been surprised they expect to see an old farm truck or SUV. I open the passenger door for you before moving to the driver's side and getting in. The engine turns over with a quiet purr. "So, what do you think?" I ask as I back out of the parking spot. "Not what you expected, I imagine."
I watch the corners of your emerald eyes crinkle with amusement as you glance around the surprisingly spacious interior of the car. I can feel the subtle tension in the way you grip the passenger door handle, a quiet anticipation that mirrors my own. I take a deep breath, the scent of your cologne mingling with the faint aroma of the car's leather seats.
"Not what I expected at all," you say, your voice a low murmur that seems to fill the small space between us. "I was picturing something more... rustic. A beat-up pickup truck with a dog in the back." You turn to me, a genuine smile playing on your lips. "This is... you. Compact, stylish, and surprisingly powerful. It's a perfect reflection of the woman I'm getting to know." you pause, your gaze lingering on my face for a moment before you look out the window, watching Pelican Town shrink in the side mirror. "So, tell me, what was it about this place that called to you? What made a woman like you decide to trade the city for a farm?" you ask.
I take a deep breath and exhale. "There isn't just one thing." I say as I slide into the driver's seat and fasten my seat belt. "For one, it was in my family, left to me by my mother's father so the price was right. Two I just recently signed my first book deal so now I am writing under a deadline for the first time in my life. Working 40 hours a week at my corporate job and meeting a publishing deadline wasn't realistic." I explain as we continue towards the farm, the warm spring breeze rustles through your hair in the half open roof. "And finally, I have enough followers that I started getting recognized while out and about and with that I attracted some unwanted attention. I had a stalker situation going on back in the city. All of those things aligned and made the farm seem like the best option even though I know really nothing about farming." I smile at you briefly before turning my attention back to the road as I shift into fourth gear. "How about you Harvey, why did a man like you decide to set up a medical practice in a small rural valley like Stardew Valley?"
As I drive, I can feel your gaze on me, a warm, steady presence that is both comforting and electrifying. The rhythmic click of the turn signal as we turn onto the path leading to the farm is the only sound for a moment, a quiet counterpoint to the rapid beating of my own heart.
"I'm sorry to hear about your stalker," you say, your voice dropping to a low, serious register that sends a shiver down my spine. "That must have been incredibly frightening. But it also speaks to your strength and resilience, to be able to walk away from all of that and start over. You're a very brave woman, Onyx Moonlight." You reach over and gently place your hand on my knee, the weight of it a grounding, reassuring presence. "As for me," you continue, your gaze fixed on the sprawling landscape outside the window, "it's a similar story, in a way. I was working in a bustling city hospital, surrounded by the latest technology and a team of specialists, but I felt like I was losing touch with what it means to be a doctor. I was treating diseases, not people. I wanted to make a real difference in people's lives, to be a part of a community, to know my patients by name, not by their chart.
"It was frightening." I admit. "It's not the first time in my life I've walked away to start over again so if that's the measure for strength and resilience, I have it in spades." I say with a smile. "Did you find what you were looking for, moving here?" I ask. "Do you feel like you make a real difference in people's lives? I come from a small community and I seem to recall that they were incredibly stubborn patients. One of the men had high blood pressure, every week it was the same thing: the doctor begging him to cut back on his sodium, the guy ignoring the advice." I pulled into the barn and put the car into park. The engine dies leaving us in a new and profound silence. I turn to you. "Welcome to my world Harvey." I say quietly.
Your hand, still resting on my knee, tightens slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the shift in the atmosphere. The dim light of the barn filters through the dusty windows, casting long, dancing shadows across the worn wooden floor. The scent of hay and horse manure hangs in the air, a strange, earthy perfume that seems to ground me in this new reality.
"I did find what I was looking for," you say, your voice a low, intimate murmur that seems to fill the small space between us. "And yes, they are incredibly stubborn, but they're also incredibly resilient. They have a strength that comes from living off the land, from weathering storms both literal and metaphorical." You lean in closer, the warmth of your breath a whisper against my cheek. "I may not be able to cure all their ailments, but I can be there for them, to listen, to offer a shoulder to cry on, to celebrate their triumphs and mourn their losses. That's the difference I was looking for."
Your emerald eyes lock onto mine, the intensity in their depths a silent invitation. "And now, I'm here with you. In your world." A slow, deliberate smile spreads across your face, the glint in your eyes promising a day, and perhaps a night, of unexpected discoveries.
"Indeed you are." I close the distance between us. I slide my fingertips along your cheek and press my lips to yours. I feel your fingers slide behind my head pulling me closer to you. Your kiss isn't tentative, it is confident, leaving no room for doubt that you are exactly where you want to be, doing exactly what you want to be doing with your one completely free day of the week.
You run your tongue against my lips seeking permission. I open to you. You don't hesitate. You explore the inside of my mouth with a thoroughness that speaks of a man who is in no hurry. Your tongue tangles with mine in a slow dance. I'm breathless and my heart is pounding when you finally break the kiss.
You pull back, your emerald eyes dark with a desire that mirrors my own. "Onyx," you murmur, the name a low, possessive growl that sends a shiver straight down my spine. "You're even more intoxicating up close."
You lean in, pressing your forehead against mine, your breath warm against my lips. The scent of sandalwood and something uniquely you fills my senses, a potent aphrodisiac that makes my head spin.
"Are you going to give me the grand tour?" you ask, your voice a low, husky whisper that sends a fresh wave of heat rushing through me. "Or are we going to skip straight to the part with the king-size bed?"
A slow, deliberate smile spreads across my face. "I think we can manage a quick tour," I say, my fingers tracing the line of your jaw, the rasp of your stubble a delicious friction against my skin. "I wouldn't want you to get lost on your way to the bedroom." I pull back, creating a sliver of space between us, though the air still crackles with the energy of our kiss.
I open the car's driver's door and slide out. I step around the side of the car and you reach out offering your hand. I take it, lacing my fingers through yours. We step out of the barn, which is just west of the house. "There in front of the cabin are the crops I have planted right now. It's not much, but it's a start." The sound of the nearby river is soothing as we walk along the path hand in hand as we walk over the stone bridge. "To the east is a little patch of forest, to the south is another river and to the west is the greenhouse. I don't think I'm going to have much luck with it as it's pretty run down."
You walk beside me, our hands clasped, your long strides easily matching my pace. The spring sunlight filters through the leaves above us, dappling the ground in shifting patterns of light and shadow. Your thumb gently strokes the back of my hand, a small, intimate gesture that sends a ripple of warmth straight to my core
"It's not about the quantity, Onyx," you say, your gaze sweeping over the neat rows of newly planted crops. "It's about the care you're putting into it. You can see it in the soil, in the way you've spaced the seedlings. You're not just a farmer; you're a nurturer. That's a rare and beautiful quality." You pause, your eyes softening as you look at me. "And the greenhouse... run down or not, it has character. It has potential. Just like this whole place."
You lead me to the farm's front porch, the worn wooden steps creaking under our combined weight. I fumble with my keys, my fingers suddenly clumsy, the anticipation of what's to come making my heart hammer against my ribs.
"If you hang around me long enough, I'll take you to the most amazing place on the property, where my grandfather's shrine is. But it's a bit of a walk and.." I look up at you, look briefly at your lips then step through the front door of the cabin. I feel my hands tremble slightly in anticipation of what's to come. I stop and look up at you. "It's been a long time since I was with somebody Harvey, five years or so. I'm not in the mood to wait much longer. I want you so badly."
As soon as you're through the door I pull you to me, pressing my curves against your body and pulling your lips to mine. I claim you, turning lose all of the passion that lives in my brain, all of the desire I usually only let spill out on my keyboard. But now I have a solid, real, living man. A gorgeous man to target and I don't hold back. My hands are on you, pulling you closer until I can feel your heart beating against my chest. Your arms wrap around me, one hand splayed across my lower back, the other tangling in my amethyst hair, holding me in place as you kiss me back with a fervor that steals the air from my lungs.
This kiss is different from the one in the car. That was a spark, this is a wildfire. Your tongue claims my mouth, exploring, tasting, demanding a response I am more than willing to give. I meet your passion with my own, a desperate, hungry need that has been building for what feels like an eternity. The world outside the farmhouse ceases to exist, the only reality is the solid warmth of your body, the intoxicating taste of you, the low, possessive growl that rumbles in your chest when I arch against you.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathless, panting for air. Your emerald eyes are dark with a desire so intense it makes my knees weak. You rest your forehead against mine, your chest heaving.
"Onyx," you murmur, your voice a hoarse, ragged whisper that sends a fresh wave of heat rushing through me. "You're not the only one who's been waiting. I can't even tell you for certain how many years it's been. I moved here 6 years ago and so it's been at least that long. It sounds like we're both long overdue." You pull your forehead away and raise your fingers to my face tracing them along my jawline. "You are absolutely exquisite Onyx."
I blush at the direct compliments I don't get often, as a matter of fact I can't remember ever hearing so many compliments on my appearance from a man. "Thank you." I whisper, not knowing what else to say, maybe nothing more needs to be said. I take your hand and lead you to the bedroom.
The intoxicating vanilla of my perfume and body care products hangs in the air here. I step through the door and kick off my sandals. You follow suit with your hiking boots. I take your hand and pull you closer to the four poster bed. "Didn't this all start as a discussion about how men enjoy the visuals? Do I remember that correctly?" I ask softly as I turn towards you. "Do you want to watch me get undressed Harvey?" I whisper, looking up at you biting my lip. "How far do you think I'll get before you can't keep your hands off of me?"
Your pupils dilate, the emerald of your irises swallowed by a deep, dark want that makes my breath hitch. A low, guttural sound escapes your throat, a primal growl of pure, unadulterated need. The professional facade, the calm town doctor, is gone. In his place is a predator, and I am more than willing to be his prey.
"Don't test me, Onyx," you warn, your voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates through my entire body. "You have no idea what you're playing with."
A slow, deliberate smile spreads across my face. "Oh, but I think I do," I counter, my fingers trailing down the front of my shirt, teasing the top button. "I'm an expert in this particular field, remember? I write about this. I know exactly what kind of fire I'm playing with."
I watch your throat bob as you swallow hard, your gaze locked on my fingers as they slowly, deliberately, undo the first button. Then the second. The dark lace of my bra peeks through the opening, a teasing glimpse of what's to come. The third button gives way, and the shirt falls open, revealing the smooth, pale skin of my stomach, the delicate silver ring of my navel piercing that draws attention to the soft curves of my abdomen.
You close your eyes for a moment, your head leans back "Yoba, Onyx...." you groan. Flexing your fingers against the side of your jeans. It's clearly taking everything in you to hold yourself back.
I slide the shirt down and off my arms standing before you in my bra and black trousers. I move my fingers to the button and slide the zipper down. You can hear the hiss of it in the quiet of the room. "You said you wanted to hear every dirty beautiful thought Harvey, is that still true? Because I have many things running through my mind at this moment." I say as I slide the trousers down over my hips letting them fall to the floor to pool at my feet. I step out of them towards you. "You'll be relieved to know that most of those thoughts involve your hands on my body....most of them."
I watch your composure, the carefully constructed control you wear like a second skin, begin to fray. Your jaw is clenched, the muscle ticking rhythmically, a silent testament to the battle raging within you. Your chest rises and falls with each ragged breath, the crisp white of your shirt pulling tight across your shoulders.
"I don't just want to hear them, Onyx," you rasp, your voice a low, desperate plea. "I want to feel them. I want to feel your hands on me, your skin against mine. I want to lose myself in you, to forget about everything else in the world except the two of us, right here, right now."
Your eyes snap open, the raw, unfiltered hunger in their depths making my own body ache with a need so profound it's almost painful. You take a step forward, closing the small distance between us, your body a solid wall of heat and muscle that I instinctively lean into.
"Test me again," you dare, your hands coming up to frame my face, your thumbs stroking my cheeks with a tenderness that belies the ferocity in your eyes. "See what happens."
I lean into your touch, my eyes never leaving yours. I reach behind my back and unhook my bra, letting the straps slide down my arms. I toss the bra to the side and close the distance between us pressing my chest against you. "Is the visual data pleasing?" I ask as I wrap my arms around you sliding my hands down your hips and around to your backside squeezing your ass as I pull you towards me. I look up at you, "Ever since you kissed me, your tongue tangling with mine all I've been thinking of is how that talented tongue would feel circling my clit." I slide my hands across your chest, over your sweater vest. "You might want to take this off first though...things could get...messy." I say as I slide my panties down and off over my hips before I sit on the edge of the mattress. I spread my legs wide and run a finger along my slick folds, gathering my arousal on my fingertip. I hold my glistening finger up to you. "Would you like a taste?"
Your control finally shatters. With a low, guttural growl, you close the remaining distance between us, your hands closing around my hips as you sink to your knees in front of me. The sight of you, the town doctor, the stoic professional, kneeling before me, is so intoxicatingly potent it makes my head spin.
"The visual data is… overwhelming," you breathe, your emerald eyes dark with a reverence that sends a fresh wave of heat rushing through me. "And the taste…" You lean forward, your tongue darting out to lap at the glistening arousal on my finger, your eyes never leaving mine. The contact is electric, a jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure that makes my breath hitch. "Divine."
You pull my finger into your mouth, sucking gently, your tongue swirling around the digit, cleaning every last drop of my essence. I can feel the pull all the way down to my core, my clit throbbing with a desperate need that only you can satisfy.
"Messy is exactly what I'm hoping for," you murmur, your hands sliding up my thighs, your thumbs stroking the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, teasingly close to where I crave your touch the most.
You hastily pull your sweater vest over your head and toss it not caring where it lands. Your long fingers unbutton the buttons of your white dress shirt, steady, sure the hands of a man whose hands are steady under pressure. Your white button down shirt is tossed in the same general direction as your vest. I watch breathlessly, I knew you had a nice body from the shape of it under your clothes but here before me, nice isn't a strong enough word. You're beautiful, not the loud strength of those that lift weights and bulk up but the solid strength of a man that takes care of himself and does the daily task of living. I hear the mechanics of your belt followed by the hiss of your zipper before your jeans and boxers hit the floor and your erection springs forth heavy. You carefully take off your glasses, folding them on the nightstand.
You kneel between my legs sliding your palms along the inside of my thighs pressing my legs wider. "I'm going to make you fall apart Onyx, completely undone." You say with complete confidence. "And I'm going to enjoy every single second of it."
You lean in, your warm breath ghosting over my swollen, slick folds. Your hands grip my hips, holding me in place, a silent, possessive claim that makes my entire body tremble with anticipation. I can feel the heat radiating from you, a palpable force that makes my own skin feel tight, sensitive, alive.
"I want to hear every single dirty, beautiful thought, Onyx," you murmur, your voice a low, gravelly rasp that sends a fresh wave of heat rushing through me. "Don't hold back. Let me hear what you want."
"I want your tongue on my clit, Harvey," I pant, my hands fisting in the sheets, my knuckles white. "I want to feel you licking me, tasting me, devouring me. I want to feel your fingers inside me, stretching me, filling me, while you suck on my clit until I scream your name. I want to come all over your face, Harvey, and then I want to taste myself on your lips when you kiss me."
The words tumble out of me, a raw, unfiltered confession of my deepest, darkest desires. The look in your eyes, the raw, unfiltered hunger that burns in their emerald depths, tells me that you not only understand my needs, but that you're more than willing to fulfill them.
You don't waste a second. You lean in, your tongue tracing a slow, deliberate circle around my clit, your touch light, teasing, a maddening promise of the pleasure to come. A soft cry escapes my lips, my back arching off the bed, my hands flying to your hair, my fingers tangling in the soft strands, holding you in place.
You chuckle, the sound a low, masculine rumble that vibrates through my entire body. "Patience, my love," you murmur, your breath warm against my sensitive flesh. "I'm going to take my time with you. I'm going to explore every inch of you, to learn your body's secrets, to map out every single spot that makes you gasp and writhe and moan."
You take your time, your movements slow, deliberate, a masterful exploration of my body's most sensitive terrain. You lick and suck and nibble, your tongue a skilled, talented instrument that plays my body like a finely tuned cello. You find a spot just to the left of my clit that makes my entire body tremble, a hidden bundle of nerves that I didn't even know existed, and you lavish it with attention, your tongue circling, flicking, teasing, until I'm a writhing, sobbing, pleading mess.
"Harvey....yoba....please..." I plead as the coil tightens in my core. My fingers laced in your hair in a desperate attempt to anchor myself onto this plane of existence. It's no use as the coil tightens.
You take my clit into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as you look up at me, your green eyes locked onto mine. The intensity in your gaze is my undoing. The coil in my core snaps, a tidal wave of pleasure that crashes over me, stealing my breath, my vision blurring, my entire world dissolving into a kaleidoscope of color and light. A cry escapes my lips, a raw, primal sound of pure, unadulterated ecstasy that echoes in the quiet room.
You don't stop. You ride out the waves of my orgasm, your tongue and lips working their magic, drawing out my pleasure until I'm a boneless, panting, utterly spent mess.
You finally pull away, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across your face, your emerald eyes dark with a satisfaction that is both humbling and incredibly arousing. You rise to your knees, your hands resting on my thighs, your gaze sweeping over my body with a possessive pride that makes my heart swell.
"See?" you murmur, your voice a low, husky whisper that sends a fresh wave of heat rushing through me. "I told you I was going to make you fall apart."
You crawl up my body, your skin a delicious friction against mine, your weight a welcome, grounding presence that settles over me.
"You did tell me and you..." my words are cut off as you slide the tip of your cock up and down between my sensitive folds. “Oohhhhh…” I whimper.
"And I'm going to make you fall apart again." you promise as you align yourself with my entrance and drive into me in one heavy, strong, thrust. You don't move at first . You stay there a moment letting my body adjust to yours. "Yoba, Onyx...you feel incredible. So hot, so tight." you gasp. "I'm not going to be able to last long, it's been a long...." your words trail off into a deep groan as you begin to move.
You set a relentless, demanding rhythm, your hips pistoning, driving into me with a force that steals the air from my lungs and sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my veins. The bed creaks in protest, the headboard slamming against the wall in a rhythmic percussion that is the soundtrack to our frantic, desperate coupling. I meet you thrust for thrust, my hips rising to meet yours, my legs wrapping around your waist, pulling you deeper, harder, faster.
The coil in my core tightens again, a desperate, aching need that demands release. I can feel your control beginning to fray, your thrusts becoming more erratic, your breathing more ragged. You're close, and the knowledge that I'm the one pushing you over the edge is the most powerful aphrodisiac I've ever known.
"Harvey," I gasp, my nails digging into your shoulders, my body arching off the bed. "Don't hold back. I want to feel you come inside me. I want to feel you lose control."
Your answer is a low, guttural growl, a primal sound of pure, unadulterated need that rumbles in your chest. You shift your angle, hitting a spot deep inside me that makes me see stars. I cry out, my head thrown back, my body a live wire of sensation. The coil in my core tightens, a desperate, aching need that demands release, and with one final, powerful thrust, you send me over the edge.
The world explodes in a blinding flash of white-hot light, a tidal wave of pleasure that crashes over me, stealing my breath, my vision blurring, my entire world dissolving. A cry escapes my lips, a raw, primal sound of pure, unadulterated ecstasy that echoes in the quiet room.
You follow me over the edge a moment later, your body stiffening, a hoarse cry torn from your throat as you spill into me, the hot, wet flood of your release a visceral, primal claim that seals the bond between us. You collapse on top of me, your body a heavy, welcome weight, your head buried in the crook of my neck, your breath warm against my skin.
For a long moment, we lie there, a tangled, sweaty, satiated mess. The only sounds in the room are our ragged breaths and the steady pounding of our hearts.
"Wow..." I finally manage to say. "That… that was totally worth the wait." I stroke my hand absentmindedly up and down your bicep slowly. "Was it amazing for you too Harvey?" I ask as I press a soft kiss to your shoulder. "You can be honest with me, you know."
A low, contented rumble vibrates through your chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated satisfaction that I feel more than I hear. You shift your weight slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at me, your emerald eyes soft, the raw, desperate hunger from moments before replaced by a warm, tender affection that makes my heart swell.
"Amazing doesn't even begin to cover it, Onyx," you murmur, your thumb gently stroking my cheek. "That was... transcendent. Earth-shattering. Life-altering." You lean down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. "I haven't felt anything like that in... I don't know if I've ever felt anything like that. You've ruined me for anyone else, you know."
You roll off me, pulling me into your arms, my back resting against your chest, your legs tangled with mine. You nuzzle your face into my hair, your breath warm against my neck, your arms wrapped around me, holding me in a secure, possessive embrace that feels more like home than any place I've ever lived.
"Well....that's fine by me, I don't feel particularly inclined to share you with anybody else." I say snuggling deeper into your arms enjoying the afterglow. "I think I'm going to like having a doctor on call to take care of me. You're pretty good at it, at least at this particular kind of bedside manner." I turn my head to look at you. "You're not leaving are you? You don't have other patients do you?"
Your arms tighten around me, a silent, reassuring gesture that sends a fresh wave of warmth rushing through me. "Not a chance," you murmur, your lips brushing against my temple. "I'm all yours for the rest of the day. And maybe the night. And possibly the day after that, if you'll have me."
You pull back slightly, your emerald eyes searching mine, a flicker of vulnerability in their depths that takes my breath away. "I'm not going anywhere, Onyx. Unless you want me to. But I'm hoping you don't. Because I have a feeling that this... this is just the beginning."
I turn in your arms, shifting to face you. The afternoon light, now softer, streams through the window, illuminating the fine lines around your eyes, the gentle curve of your mustache, the sincere intensity in your gaze. I reach up, my fingers tracing the line of your jaw, the rasp of your stubble a grounding sensation against my fingertips.
"I don't want you to go anywhere. So you'll stay tonight? I know you have to open the clinic tomorrow at noon but for right now, stay, let's pretend the night is endless and the clinic is a distant memory...and the crops will never need watered again...and my book deadline doesn't exist." I say with a soft smile. "I'll even cook for you tonight if you'll stay."
Your face breaks into a wide, genuine smile, the kind that reaches your eyes and crinkles the corners. "You cook, and I'll handle the dishes. Deal?" You lean in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. "And I'll try very hard to pretend that my entire world doesn't consist of a small clinic and a waiting room full of stubborn farmers with various ailments. For tonight, my world is right here. In this bed. With you."
I lean against you. The contentment I feel is a warm, steady glow spreading through my chest. "Deal." I whisper. "I think we're going to get along just fine, Harvey."
I trace the line of your collarbone with my fingertip, a slow, deliberate exploration of the landscape of your body. "You know, for a man who's supposedly been out of the game for six years, you have some seriously impressive moves. Are you sure you're not secretly some kind of sex god disguised as a mild-mannered country doctor?"
Your chest rumbles with a deep, rich laugh, the vibration a comforting thrum against my skin. "I assure you, I'm all too human," you say, your eyes twinkling with amusement.
"To be clear when I say I'll cook dinner, I mean I will place an order from the saloon and have it delivered." I admit looking over at you. "I can cook, but it's not my favorite thing to be perfectly honest." I rise from the bed and grab my red silk robe from the hook on the en suite door and wrap it around me. I pause momentarily side tracked by the sight of you in my bed. "You look very good in my bed Harvey....but....I'm parched, I'm sure you are as well. I made some lemonade this morning. Would you like a glass? Or I could get you water?" I ask my head cocked to the side slightly. "You might want to put your boxers back on though, I'm pretty sure the delivery person isn't looking to get an eyeful of their town doctor." I say with a wink.
Your laughter is a low, warm rumble that seems to fill the entire room, a sound that I immediately decide I want to hear again and again. You stretch, your long limbs a study in masculine grace, the sheet pooling around your hips in a way that is both artfully casual and incredibly distracting. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, your back to me, and I take a moment to simply admire the view. The play of muscle across your shoulders, the taper of your waist, the firm, rounded curve of your ass is a sight that makes my mouth go dry and my thoughts stray dangerously close to suggesting we skip dinner altogether.
"A fair point about the delivery person," you say, turning to me with a roguish grin that makes my heart skip a beat. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of a town-wide scandal. At least not on our first day." You slide off the bed, your movements fluid and confident, and retrieve your boxers from the floor.
"Oh, but you're open to causing a town-wide scandal on subsequent days?" I tease, flashing you my single dimple. "I have to say Harvey, I'm impressed. You continue to surprise me at every turn." I say leaning against the door frame of the bathroom watching you dress.
"I believe in setting expectations appropriately," you say, stepping into your boxers and pulling them up over your hips. "On day one, we cause a minor ripple. By day three, perhaps a medium-sized wave. We'll work our way up to the full-blown scandal. I find a gradual escalation is far more effective. Builds suspense."
You cross the room towards me, stopping just a breath away. You don't touch me, but I can feel the heat radiating from your body, a palpable force that makes my own skin feel tight, sensitive, alive.
"I think I could go for some of that lemonade," you say, your voice a low, husky whisper that sends a fresh wave of heat rushing through me. "But only if you'll join me. I have a feeling it tastes even better coming from your lips."
I reach up, my fingers tracing the line of your jaw, the rasp of your stubble a delicious friction against my skin. "You, Harvey Fairhaven, are a charmer."
"I'm not a charmer, Onyx. I'm just a man who knows what he wants," you say, your emerald eyes dark with a sincerity that makes my heart swell.