Page 77 of Trapped Truth

After washing off the night’s chlorine, she smells amazing—like the floral shampoo and vanilla-scented body scrub in her shower. Huh, maybe I am concussed. The idea of pinning her down and licking my way to her very core is sounding far too appealing.

“Are you trying to put me off?” Ember playfully kicks my foot.

“Nope. Just keeping myself occupied.”

“You’re dangerously close to tickling me.”

“Mm, I’ll be careful.”

Traversing higher still, my fingertips brush the undersides of her bare breasts. Ember stutters in a breath as I tease the swollen mounds, letting my index digit skirt higher to flick her stiffening nipple.

Flesh puckers and tightens in response, eager to reward me. I’ll never get enough of playing with this tight, sexy body. All the rounded curves and flat planes that have teased me throughout the years… Finally mine.

“Warner…”

“Focus on your job, Nurse Lawson. I don’t want you to mess up my pretty face.”

“I’m trying not to.”

Palming one round tit, my thumb and forefinger tease her nipple into a peak. I love how the slightest attention makes her squirm. She really is so needy. Her thighs clench between my legs, quaking with a fine tremble.

I don’t give a shit if she’s got a needle in my face right now. After hearing about her being plucked from a pool on the verge of drowning, I need to know she’s okay. To touch and feel her. Erase any fear about the forces trying to rip us apart, even if only for a moment.

She bites her bottom lip as I seize her elastic waistband and push, guiding athletic leggings over her hips. Her basic cotton panties are hotter than anything when sodden from her weeping pussy. I’ll be keeping these as soon as I can tear them off her.

“You need to stop,” Ember rumbles. “Else I will screw this up.”

“Spoilsport.”

“Hardly. Just sit still.”

I can squeeze handfuls of her tight, pert ass without moving too much. Later though, I’m gonna spank her creamy skin raw for scaring the shit out of me. Her fault or not. Drowning is firmly off the menu for our next operation.

By some miracle, Ember completes the sutures without me stripping her bare and burying my tongue in her cunt. Any longer and I’m not sure I could’ve controlled myself. She snips off the final knot then places the tools down.

“There, all done.”

“Perfect.” I crash my palm into the globe of her backside. “I don’t know how much patience I had left in me.”

“Poor, deprived Warner.”

“I am deprived.”

Rolling her eyes, Ember pulls from my orbit to reach for the bath taps. I watch her turn them both to begin filling the tub with warm water, adding some of my shower gel for good measure.

“We’re taking a bath?”

“Only if you can keep your stitches dry.” She reaches over to open the medicine cupboard. “In fact, do you have any waterproof dressings?”

“Uh, try the extra first aid kit under the sink.”

I take the opportunity to strip out of my sweat shorts and T-shirt I threw on when we got home. Detaching my prosthetic takes a little more work; the levers are held by powerful mechanisms that keep the carbon fibre locked in place.

“Here.” She unpeels a bandage to smooth over the stitches.

“Do I pass now, Nurse?”

“You’ll do. Be careful, though.”