Free Recovery (Doctor Dom Volume 5) (A BDSM & Medical Play Novella) by Tara Crescent

my ass. He growled, and reached to grab my ponytail, and he pulled. I hissed. Oh, this was new, and I liked it.
    He chuckled. “Too hard?” he asked, slamming his length into me.
    I stuffed my knuckles in my mouth to keep from crying out. I didn’t want him to stop. In about three seconds, the overwhelming sensation would crystallize to pure pleasure.
    He spanked my ass, and pounded into me. I gripped the table and hung on as I got utterly, thoroughly fucked. I made mewling sounds of pleasure as his fingers dug into my flesh, and breathed a sigh of thanks as his hand found my clitoris. He touched me just so, and his cock raked every inch of my vagina, and I felt the familiar release of an orgasm start to overtake me. “I’m coming,” I groaned, and he growled in pleasure. My muscles clenched in spasms of aching desire, and I closed my eyes as I surrendered completely to my orgasm.
    My tremors pushed him into his orgasm, and I could feel the spurts of c ome in my pussy. “Mmm,” I sighed, after a couple of quiet minutes. “I should make a mess more often.”
    He pulled out of me and laughed. “That you should,” he said. “Join me in the shower, Lisa?”
    A shower sounded like heaven. I nodded and followed him.

Chapter 11
     
    Lisa:
    The installation of the walkout porch doors off the kitchen was supposed to take two days. It took a week and a half.
    Each day, Stewart would curse some more. “Fucking old houses,” he snarled at me.
    I laughed at him. Stewart made a fortune renovations on old houses. “It’s a heritage home, Stewart, have some respect,” I chided, offering him a bottle of water from Patrick’s kitchen.
    “Respect, my ass,” Stewart snorted. “Nothing’s fucking straight. Crooked walls. Crooked floors. I hate this.”
    “So, you almost done?” I asked him, looking at the installed doors, cutting off his tirade. I’d heard this before, every single time Stewart worked on an old house.
    He nodded. “Not a moment too soon, either,” he said. “I’ll come in tomorrow and finish up the trim around the edges. But yeah. Almost done. Lisa, I’m out of here,” he continued, draining the water and tossing the bottle at the recycle bin in the corner. It missed, and I rolled my eyes. More clean-up. “You staying?”
    I nodded. “Stewart, this guy is my boyfriend, not just a client. I need to clean up the mess before he comes back and goes ballistic.” I suppressed a smile at the memory of my spanking last week. As fun as it would be to get spanked again, I didn’t actually want to leave Patrick a huge mess to deal with. I glanced at my phone. Six in the evening. Patrick had texted me earlier saying he needed to work late, and wouldn’t be back home until eight or nine. I had at least two hours to try to straighten the mess.
    “Knock yourself out,” Stewart replied. “See you tomorrow.”
    I followed him out, chatting with him in the driveway for almost a half hour about his progress on other jobs. It was pitch dark when I waved goodbye as his truck drove away, and I turned back to the house. I heard a loud crack, and the sound of shattering glass as I turned. Damn it, Stewart, what have you done? I grumbled. If the doors had fallen apart, Stewart would be here for another week. Contractors.
    My mind was entirely on the project schedule as I made my way back to the kitchen. Patrick was not going to be happy about a further delay. He was going to be furious about this latest mess, whatever it was. I sighed as I entered the room to see what kind of disaster awaited me.
    But what greeted me wasn’t a mess of Stewart’s making.
    I had forgotten entirely about Liam Henderson, lost as I had been in worries about BDSM and where my relationship with Patrick was going. That had been a mistake. He was standing in the kitchen, holding a large, wicked-looking knife in his hands.
    “You must be the girlfriend,” he said. He gestured, and my eyes never left the blade. “Sit down.”
    Liam had