Page 87 of Broken Dream

But the words don’t make it to my mouth.

Because the truth of the matter is that I do want this.

I’ve never felt anything like this before. This desire, this passion, this unwavering want.

“I want this fuck,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’ve never wanted anything this much.”

And he kisses me again.

His lips press against mine, firm and demanding. His hands—those skilled surgeon’s hands—roam over my body with a thirst that matches my own. But there’s something else in his touch, something beyond pure lust. An intensity, a need that goes deeper than I’ve ever known. I respond to him, arching toward him.

“Jason,” I whisper against his lips.

This is so forbidden, and that’s part of what makes it so sexy. Against all the rules, all the ethics that we were supposed to uphold, we’re giving in to each other right here in the anatomy lab.

The cold steel of the dissection table beneath me is a stark contrast against his warm body pressing into me. He removes the rest of my clothing and then his own, and soon our bodies are bare against each other.

He buries his face into the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. He tightens his grip as if he’s holding on to me for dear life. And maybe he is. Maybe we both are.

His kisses move lower, trailing down my throat to the valley between my breasts. There’s an urgency to his touch, a desperate need to feel every inch of me.

“Yes,” I breathe out, sinking into his hair, pulling him closer, wanting to feel more of him, all of him.

My phone buzzes from somewhere underneath our discarded clothes. We both freeze momentarily, but then he shakes his head and continues his exploration. The world outside this lab doesn’t matter anymore.

He traces a searing path down my belly and lower still. I gasp as he finds the spot that makes my breath hitch, and he smirks against my skin.

“I knew you wanted this,” he whispers.

That was never in question, and we both know it.

His touch sends shivers through me. I lose myself in him, forgetting everything else. The world is reduced to Jason and me, the anatomy lab, and our shared desperation.

The metallic scent of the lab mingles with our heated breaths, and the faint smell of disinfectant only adds to the illicit thrill of it all.

All thoughts of rules, ethics, and consequences are forgotten as we surrender ourselves to this heated moment. The world outside the lab, with its rules and constraints, fades into oblivion. It’s just Jason and me, lost in a whirlwind of desire.

His movements become more urgent. He thrusts two fingers inside me, and I nearly shatter as he massages my G-spot.

I meet him, move for move, our bodies colliding.

“Fuck,” he growls. “I love to penetrate you. You have the tightest little pussy, Angie. So wet and perfect.”

All I can do is sigh against him. With his other hand, he tweaks my nipple. His hard cock brushes against me.

I grasp it.

He groans.

And I love it. I love what I do to him. What I can do to this magnificent man.

He drives his finger into me harder, until I cry out.

Can anyone hear us outside the lab?

I cry out again, and I don’t care.

“Fuck,” he grunts, withdrawing his fingers.