4

Dr. Knight.

I walked out of my luxurious clinic, "Another day, another dollar," I muttered to myself, straightening my Italian silk tie.

It was in one of the most expensive skyscrapers in town, the kind where even the doormen wore designer suits.

I took the elevator, pressing the button, only to find that the person inside was one of my patients. "Well, hello there," she purred, her eyes meeting mine with unmistakable intent.

She was in her forties, but she was hot as fire in bed, the kind of woman who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. "Fancy meeting you here, Doctor," she said, her voice dripping with suggestion.

She was the only one that I had fucked more than ten times already, a record I hadn't planned on setting. But her case was different, complicated in ways I hadn't anticipated when we first crossed paths.

At some point I was thinking of getting married to her from the way she loved me. Not to mention her high society connections and wealth but then I kept her only because she was always chasing me even if I broke up with her many times.

But then I realised I don't need a woman like her cheating on her husband with me.

She wasn't a permanent patient, just a blip on my professional radar. "I remember you," I said coolly, maintaining my distance as best I could in the confined space.

She had visited my clinic once for a routine procedure. We didn't do anything then, maintaining strict professional boundaries behind closed office doors.

She didn't come back later for any follow-ups, but we met by coincidence at a charity gala downtown. "Fate has a funny way of bringing people together," she'd said that night, champagne glass in hand.

As it turned out, we were neighbors, living in the same exclusive enclave. "Small world," I'd remarked, surprised by the revelation.

Her mansion was very close to mine, nestled among the area's most opulent homes. Only one other mansion separated us, a buffer zone that had proven insufficient.

She told me she has a husband, a powerful executive at some Fortune 500 company, always traveling, rarely home. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him," she'd whispered that first night together.

She asked me to keep our sex affair secretly, her eyes serious despite her playful tone. "Discretion is non-negotiable," she insisted, which was the best for me anyways, perfectly aligned with my own preferences.

"I'm not looking for complications," I assured her. I needed no commitment and had no interest in chasing women or playing relationship games.

She knew very well that if she tried to make a fuss, create drama where there should be none, without prior notice, I would go and visit her husband and tell him everything. "Mutually assured destruction," I'd called it, half-joking. "How romantic," she'd replied with a sardonic smile.

She was a bit clinging though, more so than I'd anticipated when we started this arrangement. "I was just thinking about you," became her constant refrain, too frequent to be coincidence.

She started to appear everywhere I went, from my favorite coffee shop to my exclusive gym. "Another happy accident," she'd claim, eyes wide with false innocence.

She began to call me or text me a few times a day, messages growing increasingly needy and demanding. "When can I see you?" "I need you now." "Are you ignoring me?"

And that was taking a bad turn in our sexual relations, the desperation seeping into even our most intimate moments. "You're the only one who understands me," she'd whisper, and I'd feel the noose tightening.

So I had decided to get rid of her by the weekend, to cut ties completely before things spiraled further out of control. "It's been fun," I'd rehearsed saying, "but it's time we moved on."

...But here she was, standing in front of me in the elevator, wearing a dress that left little to the imagination. "I've missed you," she said, moving closer than propriety allowed.

She deserved what was coming, I'd decided, the clean break I'd planned to deliver, but I wondered if she might also deserve one less fuck for old time's sake. "You look tense, Doctor," she observed, running a finger down my chest. "I know just how to help you relax."

To be honest, I'm only thirty-one years old, successful beyond what most men my age could dream of. "Hard work and good genes," I'd tell anyone who asked about my rapid rise.

But I look very manly next to any woman, commanding and powerful in ways that transcend mere physical appearance. "You make me feel so small, so feminine," Helen had once gasped, even if she was forty, like Helen was, with years of experience and confidence behind her.

"Age is just a number when chemistry is involved," she'd said early in our affair. I didn't get bored of her body, the curves that fit perfectly against my hands, but I worried that she might create a scandal, the kind that could tarnish my carefully cultivated reputation.

"What would your colleagues think?" she'd teased once, too close to blackmail for comfort. She was always roaming around my professional spaces; always asking for more time, more attention, more of me than I was willing to give.

The elevator door shut closed with a soft pneumatic hiss, sealing us into our private world high above the city. She wrapped her arms around my neck, fingernails grazing my scalp, licking her lips seductively like a predator eyeing its prey.

"I've been thinking about you all day," she whispered. I frowned and pushed her hands off me, establishing a boundary she'd crossed too many times.

"What now, Helen? I thought I told you, DON'T EVER COME HERE!" I said this sternly, my voice low but intense, emphasizing every word like hammering nails into a coffin. "This is my workplace, for God's sake. Have you lost your mind?"

She pushed her hands inside my shirt, fingers cool against my skin, and sensually said, her voice a silken thread designed to ensnare, "but I have missed you so much, more than you could know. I want you to fuck me now. 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 in 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 in a way that was not gentle, 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 widely 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, 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 will 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. Others 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 Bella, that patient from earlier today who'd awakened something unexpected in me. "Dr. Knight, 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 Bella'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 Helena and separated her ass checks, 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.