Chapter Nine: The Knock

Sarah’s chest rose and fell in ragged waves. Her palms trembled as she braced them against the mattress, still tasting him on her lips, still feeling his shuddering moans vibrating inside her bones.

She couldn’t believe what she’d just done. Couldn’t believe the sound of him, Liam, though she didn’t even know his name yet, still echoed in her ears, wrecked and desperate.

Her hands, the same hands that held beating hearts in the operating room, had clutched his ankle as though her life depended on it. Her mouth, the one she used to deliver stern commands in surgeries, had just worshiped a man’s body like a woman starved.

Her pulse thundered in her throat. She felt both ashamed and alive.

Before she could catch her breath, another knock.

Her head jerked up, heart slamming harder.

“Dr. Smith?!” a woman’s voice pierced through the door. “It’s Bella. Are you inside? You’re late—this is the first time you’ve ever been late!”

Sarah’s blood froze. Bella. Her secretary.

“Oh God,” Sarah whispered, scrambling upright, her knees wobbling as if they couldn’t support her weight.

She glanced at him, Liam, sprawled, wrists cuffed above his head, sweat glistening across his sculpted chest, his abs still twitching from the aftermath. He was silent now, but his eyes… his eyes were molten, locked on her, unblinking.

“Dr. Smith!” Bella’s voice grew sharper, urgent. “You have patients waiting! And three surgeries today. We’re already behind schedule.”

The knock rattled again, harder this time.

Sarah’s hands flew to the cuffs. Her fingers shook as she tried to work the lock. She needed him out, needed him gone before Bella barged in.

“Damn it,” she hissed, fumbling. Her breath came fast, too fast.

And then, his voice. Low. Dangerous. A whisper that slid down her spine like silk dipped in heat.

“So… you’re a doctor? Huh? Interesting.”

Her eyes snapped to his. His lips curved in a slow, devastating smirk, his chest rising with a deep inhale as though he’d just pieced together a puzzle that thrilled him.

Her pulse hammered harder. She turned back to the cuffs, desperate, her fingertips scraping the metal as she worked.

Another knock. Louder. “Dr. Smith! Please answer! Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“God, please…” Sarah muttered under her breath, as much to herself as to the cuffs. Finally, with a soft click, one restraint gave way. Liam’s arm dropped down, flexing as he stretched his wrist, his veins standing out.

She swallowed hard. Moved to the other cuff. Her breath shook as she leaned over him, close enough to feel the heat rolling off his skin.

The second cuff clicked open.

She exhaled in shaky relief and then froze.

Because he didn’t move away. He didn’t sit up. Instead, in one fluid motion, his newly freed hand curled around her waist, pulling her just close enough that his lips brushed her ear.

Her breath hitched.

He whispered, slow, rich, every word coiling like smoke into her chest.

“Dr. Smith...”

Before she could react, before she could even process, his tongue touched her ear.

Heat exploded under her skin.

Her body jolted as if struck by lightning, a gasp breaking free from her throat. The wet, hot drag of his tongue traced the delicate shell of her ear, slow, deliberate, devastating.

Her knees weakened instantly. She clutched the mattress with one hand, his shoulder with the other, every nerve ending alive.

The sensation was unbearable ticklish, erotic, overwhelming. The slick warmth of his tongue glided against the sensitive rim, then lingered at the hollow just behind her ear. Her body shuddered so violently her breath came out in a broken moan.

Goosebumps erupted across her arms. Her stomach clenched. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, trying to anchor herself, trying to resist the flood of sensation that threatened to undo her completely.

Her heartbeat pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears, a furious rhythm that betrayed her control.

His tongue flicked again, slower this time, curling along the curve of her ear, teasing, tasting. Her eyes fluttered shut without permission.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but the tremble in her breath gave her away. She could feel the heat of his breath, damp from his lick, sliding down the column of her neck.

It tickled. It burned. It seduced.

She was trembling, forty-five years old, renowned cardiothoracic surgeon, a woman who commanded operating rooms with absolute control and here she was, falling apart because a younger man’s tongue lingered on her ear.

Another knock thundered at the door.

Sarah jolted, her body snapping taut, her chest heaving.

“Dr. Smith!” Bella’s voice sharpened, impatient now. “If you don’t come out in two minutes, I’m coming in myself.”

The words sliced through the haze, a brutal reminder.

Patients. Surgeries. Her career. Her mask.

Her world, the one she’d built on discipline and respect, teetered on collapse.

But Liam’s tongue still traced the edge of her ear, slow, devastating, as if mocking her attempt to regain control. She shivered violently, biting back another gasp.

And then he whispered again, voice husky, lips brushing the damp skin his tongue had just marked.

“See you soon, Dr. Smith.”

The final flick of his tongue curled just inside her ear, quick and wicked, and Sarah nearly cried out. Her thighs clenched, her hands shaking as she pushed away, tearing herself free before she lost everything.

She staggered back, chest heaving, eyes wild.

Another knock cracked the silence. Bella’s voice came sharper, right outside the door.

“Dr. Smith! I’m opening the door!”

Sarah’s blood froze. Her body still hummed with Liam’s heat, her ear still tingled with his wet trace, and her entire body quivered from the sensation she couldn’t shake.

She whipped her head toward him, his smirk dark, his chest rising in unhurried calm, as though he knew exactly what he’d done to her.

The handle of the door rattled.

Sarah’s pulse leapt into her throat.

She had one second. Maybe less.

And Liam’s last whisper still burned in her ear.