LOGINELENA I lead him down the hallway to the monitor room. It’s small and cramped and filled with screens showing patient vitals. There’s barely enough space for two people but it’s private. I close the door behind us and he immediately crowds me against it. “Five minutes,” I remind him. “I can do a lot in five minutes.” His mouth is on my neck. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been knowing you’re here working and I can’t touch you?” “You saw me this morning.” “That was before work. That doesn’t count.” His hands slide up my sides. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. About what you look like under these scrubs. About the sounds you make when I’m inside you.” Heat floods through me. “We can’t do this here.” “Why not?” “Because I’m working. Because people will notice. Because this is completely inappropriate.” “You say that like it’s going to stop me.” His hand slides down to cup me through my scrubs. “Tell me you’re not wet right now and I’ll stop.” I am wet. Have been si
ELENAThree months of dating Rook Castellan and I’ve learned several things.One: he’s terrible at following rules. Mine specifically. Every time I tell him to rest he pushes too hard. Every time I tell him to ice an injury he decides he’s fine. Every time I tell him not to show up at the hospital during my shift he shows up anyway.Two: I’ve stopped caring about the rules.Three: I’m completely gone on him in a way that should terrify me but doesn’t.It’s Thursday night and I’m six hours into a twelve-hour shift. Standard chaos. Multiple traumas from a pile-up on the highway. Chest pain. Broken bones. The usual.I’m updating charts in the monitor room when my phone buzzes.Rook: You on break yet?Me: Not for another hour.Rook: That’s too long. I miss you.Me: You saw me this morning.Rook: That was eight hours ago. That’s basically forever.I smile at my phone like an idiot.Me: I’m working. Go do something productive.Rook: I am doing something productive. I’m coming to see you.Me
ELENA. I stand and he pulls me onto the bed, flipping us so I’m underneath him.“My turn,” he says. His hands unhook my bra and pull it away. His mouth goes to my breast immediately and I arch into the sensation.“You have perfect tits,” he says between licks and sucks. “I’ve been wanting to put my mouth on them since the first time I saw you.”“When was that?”“When you were examining my shoulder. You leaned over me and I could see down your scrubs and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to touch you.”“That’s very inappropriate.”“I know. I felt terrible about it.” His mouth moves to my other breast. “Didn’t stop me from thinking about it though.”His hand slides down my stomach to the waistband of my underwear. “Can I?”“Please.”He pulls them down and tosses them aside. Then his hands are on my thighs spreading them wide.“I need to taste you,” he says. “I’ve been thinking about this since I walked into your apartment. About getting my mouth on your pussy. About findi
ELENAThe restaurant is nice. More formal than I expected. White tablecloths and candles and an intimacy that makes everything feel charged.We order and talk and the conversation flows easily but there’s an undercurrent of tension that wasn’t there at breakfast. Every time his hand brushes mine. Every time he looks at me with those dark eyes. Every time he smiles like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.“Can I ask you something?” he says halfway through dinner.“Sure.”“What were you thinking about in the shower this morning?”I nearly choke on my wine. “What?”“You texted me at nine AM. You got off shift at seven. That means you were home for two hours before texting. I’m guessing you showered. And I’m wondering what you were thinking about.”My face is burning. “That’s a very presumptuous question.”“Is it wrong though?”“I’m not answering that.”“So I’m right.” He leans back with a satisfied smile. “Were you thinking about me?”“You’re very confident.”“That’s not a no.”“We sh
ELENATuesday takes forever to arrive.I work two more shifts between breakfast with Rook and our actual date. Twelve hours each of trauma and chaos and trying not to check my phone every five minutes to see if he’s texted.He has texted. Multiple times.Nothing excessive. Just checking in. Asking about my shifts. Sending me a photo of his breakfast with the caption “eating healthy like my doctor ordered.”I save that photo even though I shouldn’t.Sarah notices I’m distracted during Monday’s shift.“You’re smiling at your phone,” she says. “That’s new.”“I’m not smiling.”“You’re definitely smiling. Is it the track athlete?”“His name is Rook.”“So it is him. How was coffee?”“It turned into breakfast. And it was good.”“Good enough for a second date?”“We’re having dinner tonight.”She grins. “Look at you breaking all the professional boundaries.”“He’s not my patient anymore.”“He will be the next time he shows up injured.”“He’s not going to show up injured.”“You sure about tha
ELENASix hours later my shift ends and I’m exhausted.I change out of my scrubs into the jeans and sweater I wore to work. Fix my hair as much as possible after twelve hours. Try to look like a human instead of someone who just spent half a day dealing with medical emergencies.When I walk out to the waiting area Rook is still there.He’s reading something on his phone and he looks up when I approach. Smiles immediately.“You waited,” I say.“I told you I would.” He stands and pockets his phone. “How was the rest of your shift?”“Long. Busy. The usual.”“You look tired.”“That’s what twelve-hour night shifts do to a person.”“Do you still want to do this? We can reschedule if you’re too tired.”I should say yes. Should go home and sleep. Should maintain distance.“I’m not too tired,” I say. “Where did you have in mind?”“There’s a place two blocks from here that opens at six. Makes good breakfast and excellent coffee.”“You planned this.”“I had six hours to plan it.”We walk to the
TALIA. Dareth finds me in my room around nine, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and that look on his face that means he already knows something I don’t.“Ovulating?” he asks.“How did you know?”“You’ve been fidgeting all evening. You do that when your body’s doing something.” H
WINREY.I wake up aching.Not sore. Aching. There's a difference. Sore is what happens after a workout. This is what happens after six hours of being fucked by a god who made me come fifteen times and wrung every ounce of pleasure from my body until I couldn't remember my own name.My thighs are st
WINREYThe entrance to the Sanctum is carved with pornography.Not artistic nudes or tasteful sensuality. Actual pornography.A woman with her legs spread wide, a man's face buried between her thighs, his tongue clearly visible against her cunt. Another scene shows a woman on her knees, cock stretc
TALIA. Heat floods through me fast enough to make me dizzy. Dareth moves behind me, pressing his chest against my back, hands sliding up my arms to my shoulders with deliberate slowness. “I’ve been thinking about unwrapping you since the auction. Want to see if you’re as perfect as I remember.”







