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touyasdoll · 2 years ago

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Dadmas Day 3: Christmas Morning with Touya

Dadmas Masterlist

pairing: Touya Todoroki/Dabi x f!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: you have multiple children together, mentions of pregnancy & children, reader is wearing a nightgown, his dick is pierced, biting, your kids are cockblocks but they’re cute

notes: this was originally going to be a Father’s Day post and this is the whole reason I wanted to do Dadmas! I just really, really, really love the idea of Touya as a dad <3 he deserves more mornings like this.

Merry Christmas! <3

It’s Christmas morning. The chill from outdoors has crept inside overnight, but it’s the feeling of mismatched lips brushing against your neck that stirs you from your slumber.

It’s not a bad way to wake up; it’s one of your favorites, actually. One smooth. One scarred. Both coming together over your pulse point to send a shiver up your spine and pull a moan from your own mouth.

“Touya..” you murmur drowsily, giggling as his lips climb up your neck to trail along your jaw.

“Doll..” he echoes your nickname in the same timbre, playfully mocking you, as he often did.

You can feel the his smile against your skin when he briefly nuzzles his face against yours. It’s then that you realize that his hands are also wandering, slipping beneath the sheets to skim along your sides.

“I can almost guarantee you that we do not have time for this today,” you say as you lock eyes with him.

He leans over you, propped up on one arm to stare back into your eyes with a devil-may-care grin.

“Maybe a Christmas miracle’ll happen.” He shrugs, leaning in again to attach his lips to your neck.

“Oh, you believe in miracles all of sudden?” You ask sarcastically as your eyes fall closed again.

A soft sigh leaves your lungs as you gently stretch and relax into the sheets, tilting your head to allow him better access to your neck.

Maybe a Christmas miracle would happen. You cross your fingers.

“Believe in ‘em?” He scoffs, warm breath blowing over your neck. “I’ve seen one firsthand. How the hell else could I have landed you?”

He smirks and sinks his teeth into your skin, feeling rather proud of himself for that one, because he can practically hear you rolling your eyes when you echo his scoff.

“Must be all the smooth one liners,” you tease, letting your hands roam to seek out the only present that you’re really hoping for today.

You find it without much trouble. His morning wood is just inches from your thigh. You slowly drag your fingers along his shift before wrapping your hand around the barely contained erection, concealed only by his boxers.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, sighing as he readjusts to swivel his hips towards you.

He starts bucking them gently, shifting upwards into your grasp while he starts sucking on your neck again to stifle the desperate moans threatening to spill from his lips.

“Shit,” you moan, eyes briefly rolling back when his tongue finds that special spot on your neck. “Baby, do you really think we might have enough time?”

“We can make it quick,” he mutters impatiently, tossing back the sheets in a hurry as he moves to position himself between your legs.

The both of you are veterans when it comes to quickies. You thought you were good at ‘em before you had kids, but now? It’s an art form that you have perfected.

You reach down to haphazardly bunch up the hem of your nightgown and pull your panties to the side while he tugs his boxers down far enough to let his pierced erection spring free.

“Remind me to eat you out later,” he murmurs, eyes flitting to yours as he dons a grin that makes your pussy throb even before he guides the head of his cock between your folds.

“Maybe I’ll just sit on your face,” you muse, eyes fluttering closed and a soft moan escaping you when he shifts his hips.

“Merry Christmas to me. I hope you do,” he replies huskily, smirking as he sheathes his length inside of you in one smooth thrust.

Both of you take a brief moment to savor the feeling, intentionally quiet noises of pleasure flooding the room. You lift your hips, grinding them forward while his begin to roll. He’s just about to pick up the tempo when the sound of little feet start pattering down the hall.

“Babe,” you whisper, pressing your hands to his chest as your head whips towards the door.

“I hear ‘em. Just know this means I’m pounding the fuck out of you later,” he murmurs as he leans in to steal a kiss, a handsome smirk lingering on his lips when he pulls away to fall back into bed beside you.

He tucks his suddenly softening cock back into his boxers and you adjust your clothes while he grabs the covers and tugs them over the both of you.

“Ssh!” You hear your five year old’s voice in the hall.

She’s giggling despite her warning to keep quiet and so is your 3 year old son as the sound of their footsteps grow closer to your door.

You and Touya employ your acting skills, pretending to be fast asleep just before the door slowly creaks open.

“I told you they’re still sleeping,” your daughter whispers as she crosses into the room, creeping closer to the bed with her brother right on her heels.

“Let’s get daddy!” Your son suggests in the loudest whisper you’ve ever heard.

You peek one eye open to look at your husband, who can’t seem to help the warm smile that graces his features. You close your eyes again and wait, though it doesn’t take long for your children to make their move.

“Daddy!” Your daughter cheers as she launches herself onto his side of the bed.

“It’s Christmas!” Your son exclaims as he joins her, pouncing directly onto his father’s chest.

“Oof!” He grunts, a huge grin spreading across his face as he let’s our a jolly chuckle that could rival even old St. Nick’s. “It’s Christmas? So what? What’s that mean?”

He sits up to wind an arm around both of them, his tickling fingers getting to work immediately, sending both children into laughing fits as they try to squirm out of his grasp.

“Santa!” Your son squeals, scrambling towards your side of the bed as you sit up, smiling fondly at the scene in front of you.

“Yeah! Santa came, daddy!” Your daughter manages to inform him through her giggles while trying in vain to protect her ticklish sides.

“Good morning!” Your son greets you, tilting his head back when he plops down into your lap as your arms wind around him.

“Good morning, mommy!” Your daughter echoes his greeting as Touya finally takes mercy on her.

“Good morning,” you reply, beaming as you press a kiss to the top of your son’s forehead and then lean over to do the same to your daughter. “So you guys already saw the tree? Santa came and left us all presents?”

“Yeah! I saw my name! And brother’s and sister’s and yours and daddy’s too!” Your daughter excitedly informs you, practically bouncing on the bed, which seems to give her an idea, because she rises to her feet. “Let’s open presents!”

Her brother joins her, climbing out of your lap to stand up as the two of them start jumping up and down in the space between you while chanting for presents. Touya chuckles and glances over at you to exchange smiles before he stands and loops his arms around the kids again.

“Alright, alright, we’ll do presents,” he says as he tucks one beneath each arm and starts carrying them off, making them squirm and giggle. “We gotta get your sister first though. Why don’t you two go find one with your names on ‘em and mommy and I will be right there?”

He sets them down near the bedroom door and they cheer before they take off. You rise from the bed, watching him as he watches your children go. There’s a smile on his face, but he looks a little lost in thought. He doesn’t seem to notice you approach until your hand reaches out to take his and he snaps out of it.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” You ask quietly as you slip your arms around his middle.

He folds his arms around you in return, peeking at you for only a moment before he looks down, a little embarrassed by the sheer amount of emotions that he’s feeling.

“How lucky I am. Thank you, doll. For everything,” he whispers, placing a kiss to your scalp as he gives you a long squeeze.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” you say softly, closing your eyes as you hug him back tightly.

He closes his eyes, holding you a little tighter while he sends off a prayer to any and every deity that he’s ever heard of. He never wanted to lose this. He’d lost a family once and he’d survived, but he wouldn’t make it through losing this one.

He feels a slight pressure just beneath his eyes and he knows what’s coming. Usually he tries to fight it, but he knows it’s hopeless this morning.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he replies as a crimson tear slips over his cheek from under his stapled seam.

The baby starts fussing down the hall and you pull away, only to stop when you realize that she isn’t the only one who’s crying. You reach up to cup his face, delicately swiping the tear away with the pad of your thumb before your gaze finds his.

“Are you okay, baby?”

He nods, a tender smile on his lips as he cradles your head in both hands and plants a kiss to you forehead.

“I’ve never been happier,” he says sincerely. “I’ll go get her. You wrangle the other gremlins.��

With a gentle swat to your behind, he heads down the hall and you turn to look at him over your shoulder. A smile spreads across your face as you watch him swing open the door to the nursery and beam at your other daughter, who can be heard giggling inside, amused by the funny face he makes as he enters the room.

You shake your head, still grinning like a fool as you make your way towards the living room, where your eldest is doing her best with her newfound reading skills to sort out the gifts.

“Lemme help you, sweetheart,” you say as you pick up one of the wrapped presents from beneath the tree.

A few minutes later, Touya arrives with your 18 month old on his hip. She stares in wonder at the presents and start kicking her tiny legs while pressing on his arms.

“Down,” she requests in the most adorable, excited little voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles, finding a place on the floor to plop down, so that he can set her free and keep a close eye on her.

He keeps an eye on all of you, basking in the wonder of a Christmas morning that he never thought he’d live to see, let alone celebrate with his own family.

He watches the children dance around while impatiently waiting to tear into their piles of presents. He watches you take you youngest daughter into your lap and help her tear away the wrapping paper on one of her gifts, which she finds more interesting than the gift itself. He watches you crawl over and reach way under the tree to retrieve a small, rectangular gift.

“This one’s yours,” you say as you sit down beside him and offer him the package. “Feel like it’s important to note that this one’s from me and not Santa.”

He furrows his brow, smiling curiously as he glances over at you before he turns his attention to the gift in his hands. He tears the paper away and finds a box, which he lifts the top of of to reveal a familiar looking white stick inside.

Pregnant is what it says.

You watch his face and are blessed enough to see the moment of realization on his face. His eyes go wide and he suddenly grins so wide that you’re worried he might lose a staple.

“I’m gonna be a dad again?” He asks excitedly, sounding the teeniest bit choked up, though he’d never confess to that.

“Yes,” you confirm, nodding your head as you mirror his elated expression.

He chuckles in disbelief and throws his arms around you, pulling you in to hug you tight and press his lips to your scalp again.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, pulling away to cup your face in his hand and kiss you like he means it, because he does. He’s never meant anything more.

Before you can respond, he pulls away and looks down at your belly, placing his hand over it gently.

“And I love this one already,” he adds softly.

Tears of joy threaten to spill from your own eyes now as you place your hand over his.

“We love you too. We’re just as lucky to have you, baby. All of us,” you say quietly.

He leans in to press his smiling lips to yours again, his head already filling with what next year might look like. The sounds of the children squealing and screaming fade away as he presses his forehead to yours to look into your eyes.

“Merry Christmas, doll. Thank you.”

2K notes · View notes

nanamiscocksleeve · 4 months ago

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Prescription For Pleasure

Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.

You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.

And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.

But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no.

“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.” Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne.

Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.

But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”

Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”

“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you.

“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder.

“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”

“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”

You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.

“Yes?”

“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.

“I am aware of it, yes.”

“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.”

Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”

“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.

“There appears to be a problem.”

“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.

“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.”

It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”

There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.

“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself.

“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”

A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you.

“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”

With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence.

And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.

The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You��d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session.

“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy.

“Yes.”

“Preference for the doggystyle position still?”

Your face burns. “Yes.”

“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”

You nod your head.

“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy.

“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.

“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go.

“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”

You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office.

Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit.

The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air.

His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”

“The sensors are-”

“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”

His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks.

Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic.

Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.

The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words.

“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”

Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled.

“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.

“Good girl. Take a breath.”

You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it.

“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur.

Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.

“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body.

With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion.

“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting.

“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”

He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.

“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading.

So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.

“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal.

“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”

You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”

“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”

Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected.

“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”

“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat.

“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.

“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”

One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?”

Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin.

“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”

Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out.

“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.

“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him.

“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment.

“I just had to be sure.”

Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat.

Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again.

“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.”

The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision.

Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well.

The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity.

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom.

“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation.

He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream.

Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips.

“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”

Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke.

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”

The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm.

A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.

“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation.

“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly.

“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body.

“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff.

“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.

“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes.

“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss.

“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies.

“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.”

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