Read Online Pulse by Liv Hayes - Free Book Online Page A

fingers to the vein, feeling it thrum like the thick cord of
a guitar string.
    Lowering
her eyes, we danced like that for a second longer; soft breath and pupils
growing like paint dropped in a water glass.
    And then,
because I was both a madman and absolute fucking fool, I rose to my knees,
leaned forward, and kissed her.
    She
responded immediately: arms around my neck, legs around my waist, our mouths
feverishly clashing. She tasted like those Valentine's Day heart candies and
mint Chapstick. Each breath that she drew intensified, and there was no protest
when I lifted her into my arms, set her down on the desk, and drew back.
    I was drunk
off the sight of her, with her heavy-lidded eyes and red lips. The taste of
her, candied cinnamon, still in my mouth.
    I cradled
her face in my hands, the tips of our noses touching, breathing the same
breath. She wore this long skirt – nothing sexy, nothing attention-grabbing, in
the lightest gray color – and my fingers grabbed like claws at the fabric,
drawing it up, until I could see the flesh of her thighs. Pale as the rest of
her.
    I slid my
finger beneath the band of her underwear, touching her gently. Her moan was
soft and muffled as her head fell weakly against my coat. She was mine. If only
then, she was mine.
    “Mia,” I
whispered. “I want you. I want you so badly.”
    I was
practically breaking. My body was trembling. Every inch of skin was on fire. She
whimpered gently against the fabric, her arms wrapped around my torso.
    “Please,”
she begged. “If not here, then somewhere. Please.”
    I undid
my zipper, sliding it down slowly, my heart thrashing. She reached up, touching
my face with her delicate hands. I kissed her again, careful to be mindful.
Careful to be silent as possible when fumbling across the desk for my wallet,
grabbing the condom, tearing open the foil and rolling it on.
    Mia
watched me, stunned. And in that moment, nothing felt real. It was just us and
nothing else.
    “Dr.
Greene,” she whispered.
    “Little
fox,” I said, my teeth against the slope of her throat. “You're so fucking
beautiful.”
    When she
slid her underwear down, letting it drop to her ankles, I seized her in my
arms, pressed her back against the desk, and slid myself inside of her. Inch by
inch, I sank into her slowly, a near-silent hiss escaping through gritted
teeth.
    “Oh...”
she gasped, and I kissed her to silence her. I moved on top her her, slowly,
keeping every inch inside of her. “I'm already...”
    “...so
close,” I whispered. My eyes were closed. I could smell the sweat on her skin,
feminine and feral. I kissed the curve of her shoulder, resisting the urge to
bite down. To mark her. I wanted to – God, I wanted to – but not now. Not here .
Not like some animal.
    And here
we were. Fucking like two uncaged creatures on my desk.
    Her legs
wrapped around my waist. I was desperate and aching, grinding myself against
her hips, already lost in the moment. My veins were filled with her; she was already
coursing through my blood. Her scent, as if I were a wolf, was marked. I could
hunt her over and over again.
    Our
hearts beat against one another. I grazed my lips against the lobe of her ear,
whispering, only for her to hear: “I need to come. I need this. I need you.”
    She
kissed me again, a hand touching the side of my face, looking at me as if we
were already lovers. As if we had known each other in some other life, and had
once again found each other.
    “Let go,”
she said.
    So I did.
I came inside of her, exhaling sharply, and she followed after. Pressed against
my shoulder, my lab-coat absorbed the escaped moan.
    When we
pulled apart, and I slid out of her, I gave her one last kiss.
    “Beautiful,”
I said, and stroked her cheek.
    I helped
her off the desk, she pulled her underwear up, then her skirt, and seated
herself down on the chair. I adjusted myself, sighed heavily, and settled back
into my own spot: the doctor's chair, behind my doctor's desk,