Right now. Here." Her boldness was both her most attractive and most dangerous quality, a double-edged sword that had cut us both before. I raised my brows and rolled my eyes in exasperation, though part of me responded to her brazenness despite my better judgment. "What? Here? Now? This is an elevator for God's sake!" I glanced at the security camera in the corner, wondering if it was operational. "Anyone could walk in. Have you thought about that, or do you just not care anymore?" She shrugged those perfect shoulders and stood on her tiptoes, her perfume—expensive, exclusive—enveloping me. She moved her tongue to lick the corner of my mouth slowly, deliberately, like a cat with cream. With a loud moan that seemed calculated for effect, she said, "You taste good, daddy. So good I could devour you whole. I want more. Much more than these stolen moments." She pulled my hand between her legs, guiding me beneath her designer dress, showing me that she wasn't wearing underwear. "Feel how ready I am for you. Always ready."
I slapped her pussy gently, a warning shot across the bow. "You are a bad woman," I said, unable to completely hide the desire in my voice. "The worst kind of trouble. You need punishment for taking these risks." I leaned down and bit her lips, not gently, marking my territory even as I planned my escape. I flipped her around with practiced ease and pushed her to the wall, her cheek pressed against the polished metal. I pulled up her dress and stretched her ass cheeks wide while whispering into her ear, my breath hot against her skin, "Daddy will punish you now, bitch. I'll teach you what happens when you don't listen." She swooned under my touch, her body melting against the elevator wall like wax beneath a flame. "Please," she gasped, her breath fogging the polished metal surface. I could feel her warm and wet pussy dripping vaginal fluid as it longed for my dick to fill it, her need evident in every trembling inch of her body. "I've been thinking about this all day," she confessed, pushing back against me. I can't blame her husband for not being able to satisfy her; the poor bastard probably tried his best. "He doesn't understand what I need," she'd told me once, and I believed her.
Even if he fucked that woman daily, morning and night without fail, she would never get enough. She was insatiable, desperate in her hunger. "Only you know how to handle me," she'd whisper in our most intimate moments. She needed a ten-inch dick like mine to satisfy her, to reach places others couldn't, to fill the emptiness she carried inside. I grazed the back of her ear with my teeth lightly, feeling her shiver beneath me, and slapped her ass twice, hard enough to make her scream, the sound echoing in the confined space. "Keep it down unless you want an audience," I warned, though part of me wondered if that's exactly what she wanted. I noticed that she hadn't pushed the emergency stop button on the elevator, so I did, taking control as I always did. Other people could use the other elevators if they needed to go up or down. There were three more in this skyscraper, serving the dozens of offices and businesses that operated behind glass doors and reception desks.
I ripped off the sleeves of her dress with a swift, practiced motion, the expensive fabric giving way easily under my strength. I squeezed her boobs aggressively, feeling their weight and warmth in my palms. "Bitch," I hissed, my voice rough with desire and frustration. "I will fuck you until your pussy bleeds, painting you red inside. Or should I fuck your butt hole first? Make you feel it for days when you sit at your fancy charity luncheons?" I licked her neck and the back of her neck, tasting salt and expensive perfume, marking my territory like an animal. She moaned excitedly, her body responding to my roughness with shameless enthusiasm. "Please," she cried, her voice breaking with need. "I don't care how you do it. Just fuck me however you'd like. I'm yours to use." Her surrender was complete, and for a moment, I felt a twinge of something like pity for this woman who'd given herself so completely to a man who felt nothing for her. I pushed three fingers into her pussy without warning, pushing them in and out, rough and deep, feeling her inner walls clench around me. "Is this what you came for?" I growled in her ear.
She arched her ass to me, pressing back against my hand, seeking more, always more. And even though I was tired and sleepy from a long day of consultations and surgeries, bodies and faces that needed fixing, I couldn't resist fucking this woman who offered herself so completely. Maybe it was because my dick was already erect and hard because of Miss Bianca, that patient from earlier today who'd awakened something unexpected in me. "'Dr. Adrian, I'm not sure about this procedure,' she'd said, eyes downcast, voice trembling slightly. That virgin girl, with her innocent questions and shy glances, whom I would have to deal with for the next thirty days during her recovery and follow-up appointments, had taken control of my brain. And my dick. "'I'll take good care of you,' I'd promised her, meaning it professionally, but my mind had wandered to other kinds of care. I unzipped my pants quickly, the sound unnaturally loud in the elevator's silence, and pulled the beast out of my boxers, hard and ready. In my head, all I could see was Bianca's freshly shaven virgin pussy, imagining how tight she would be, how responsive to every touch. Dreaming of her innocence, her untouched body, I couldn't take her out of my mind no matter how I tried.
I pulled my fingers out of Stella and separated her ass cheeks, exposing her most intimate parts to my gaze. I used her vaginal discharge as lube, slick and abundant, and pushed my dick into her anus without warning or preparation. She winced from the pain, her body tensing against the intrusion, but I hardly noticed, lost in my fantasy of another woman. I pushed in and out, faster and deeper, chasing release and oblivion. I was snorting like a bull in heat, driven by forces I couldn't name or control, and I didn't realize that she was begging me to slow down, her pleasure giving way to genuine distress.
**Dr. Adrian's POV**
"Please," she cried, her voice thin and strained. "Slow down. It's so painful," she begged with a voice that trembled with each brutal thrust, her hands splayed against the elevator wall for support. "You're hurting me, really hurting me this time." But I ignored her pleas, deaf to anything but the roaring in my own head. I wasn't really punishing her for her clinginess or her demands. I was trying so hard to erase Bianca from my mind, to exorcise this unexpected obsession, that I lost the ability to control my anger and frustration. I was throwing my anger into Stella, using her body as a vessel for my confusion. I pushed her hard, pulling her hair back sharply and yelling at her with words I'd never used in my professional life. I was acting like an animal, possessed by something dark and unnamed. I said hoarsely, my voice barely recognizable even to myself, "Do you like it? Do you? I SAID, DON'T EVER COME HERE... DO YOU LIKE MY PUNISHMENT?" I shouted at her, screamed at her, my voice echoing off the elevator walls. She stuttered, trying to form words that wouldn't come. Her fingers scrabbled uselessly against the metal wall. "P-p-please..." but nothing substantial found purchase in the storm of my rage. I continued harder and harder, driven by demons I couldn't name, until it was time to stop, my body responding to some primal rhythm beyond conscious control.
Then, as was my preference, my signature move that women had come to expect, I turned her body to face me. I lifted her legs up to my waist, her weight nothing to my strength, and continued without pause or gentleness. This time, she moaned, her discomfort forgotten as I hit that spot inside her that made her eyes roll back. "Oh," she sighed, her head falling back against the wall. "Yes, right there. Give me more. More of you." I leaned down as I continued, the delicate flesh responding under my attention. Her sounds filled the elevator, bouncing off the walls and probably seeping through the doors to the world outside. Everyone could hear her voice, her abandon, and I marked her neck, leaving evidence of our encounter that couldn't be hidden by makeup or scarves. I wondered, absently, as my movements maintained their punishing rhythm, what she would say to her husband later to explain the marks that bloomed like violent flowers on her skin. Not that I cared about her marriage or her excuses. "'Tell him you fell,' I'd suggested once, and she'd laughed like it was a joke. I felt her body clench around me as she reached her climax, the pulsations in waves that would normally drive me over the edge with her.
I was ready as well, my own release building at the base of my spine. But Bianca... Bianca... Bianca. In that moment, Stella disappeared and became Bianca for me, the beautiful girl from my clinic, with her wide eyes and nervous smile. Her name described her perfectly, Italian for "beautiful." It fit her frame and her features, the delicate arch of her brow, the fullness of her lips that spoke so hesitantly about her concerns. Even as I thought of her, lost in my fantasy of innocence and first times, I couldn't finish. My body was rebelling against my mind in a way I'd never experienced. There would be no release for me, I realized with growing frustration. It was a strange feeling, unsettling and confusing. I wanted Bianca, or to be alone in the darkness of my bedroom, thinking about her body and imagining her responding and new to pleasure. "'Oh, Dr. Adrian,' she'd say in my fantasy, 'I never knew it could feel like this.'" But... how could I make her mine? She was my patient, protected by professional ethics and boundaries I'd never before considered crossing. "'I will though,' I decided, the thought crystallizing into certainty as Stella continued to react around me."