"Good girl."
The words slid down her spine.
Her lips moved with fierce rhythm now, each motion pulling a low, ragged groan from Devon’s throat. His fingers, still tangled in her hair, tightened just enough to guide her.
The elevator’s soft hum was drowned out by the sound of her quickened breaths.
Suddenly, she pulled back for a moment.
A thin strand of saliva caught the dim light, stretching between her lips and his cock. Her eyes, dark with lust, flicked up to meet his. Her cheeks were flushed, breath uneven, and her breasts strained against the fabric of her scrub top. The sight sent a fresh wave of heat tearing through him.
One of her hands gripped his cock firmly while the other traced slow, deliberate circles, keeping him teetering on the edge. She leaned forward, letting her breath tease him first, warm and deliberate, before resuming with an intensity that made his knees buckle.
"Fuck," Devon muttered, his voice a low growl, barely audible over the creak of the elevator cables. His head tipped back, hitting the wall with a soft thud, eyes half-closed as he fought to keep control.
She swallowed him again, this time even deeper and hungrier.
Devon groaned, a sharp, guttural sound. One hand braced against the side of the elevator now, his body trembling under her, breath shuddering through clenched teeth.
And still, she didn’t stop.
Because she saw it in his face, the disbelief, the shock.
And she knew exactly what he was thinking.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have wanted it this badly.
But how could she not?
Devon wasn’t just some reckless crush or pretty face behind a pair of scrubs. He was him. And even though he’d barely been in the hospital for forty eight hours, his name was already on everyone’s lips. He carried himself like someone who belonged to the future, destined for greatness. Being near him didn’t just turn heads; it opened doors.
And Lina? She knew exactly where she stood in the hierarchy.
She wasn’t the top nurse on the floor, not the smartest, the most efficient, or even the fastest. Half the time she was scrambling just to stay ahead of her own charting. But what she lacked in accolades, she more than made up for in instinct, in knowing exactly how to use her body.
Her body was fluent in a language most people forgot how to speak. She knew how to touch, how to taste, how to turn a moment into something unforgettable. She didn’t have titles. What she had was impact.
This was her craft.
And this. Him. This was an opportunity.
She wasn’t on her knees just for pleasure. She was here to be remembered. Because when men like Devon fucked you, they forgot your name by morning unless you made it impossible to.
So even if this had unfolded fast, too fast in fact, she wasn’t about to fumble the moment. This wasn’t just sex. This was an audition for something bigger.
She was going to leave him wrecked, carved into his thoughts so deeply that even if she left, he’d still want more.
And now, she was ready to finish what she started.
She sucked even harder this time, deeper, drawing him in until the tip of him hit the back of her throat. And she didn’t stop. She relaxed her jaw, let her throat open, and took him again.
Then again. Whether it was the rhythm or the pace, every movement she made was devastating.
Her tongue moved in slow, expert sweeps beneath him on every pull. Every sound he made, every curse, every strangled breath, was confirmation that she had him exactly where she wanted.
Devon’s hand shot out and gripped the railing behind him, knuckles white. His hips jerked slightly, involuntarily, chasing the heat of her mouth as his breath came in short, broken gasps.
"Shit... Lina." His voice cracked.
His knees buckled. For a second, it looked like he might collapse. He pressed his palm flat to the elevator wall even harder, head tipped down to look at her. His pupils were blown wide, chest rising and falling like he’d just run ten flights of stairs.
She was about to pull back, ready to tease him again, to keep him straining just a little longer when he snapped.
His hands clamped down in her hair, firm and sudden, and then he was moving.
He fucked into her mouth hard, hips surging forward as he held her in place, his cock sliding deep, hitting the back of her throat. Lina gagged around him, eyes fluttering as tears sprang into the corners, but she didn’t pull away.
She didn’t want to.
Her hands flew to his hips, gripping tight, not to stop him but to steady herself.
She let him use her.
Let him lose control, thrusting into her mouth like he couldn’t help himself, a rough, desperate rhythm that grew sharper with every second. Her throat clenched around him each time he bottomed out, spit dripping from her chin, messy and raw and real.
And still, she took it.
Her eyes, wet and smeared with mascara, flicked up to meet his.
And fuck, that look. He nearly came right there.
But just as fast as he had taken control, she stole it back.
She eased off, pulling away with a gasp, saliva clinging to her lips as she coughed once, chest heaving. Then, without a pause, she spit in her palm, gripped him tight, stroking him again slowly before then taking him into her mouth again.
This time she set the pace.
Mouth and hand working in perfect sync, twisting, gliding, stroking him with practiced skill. Her lips slid up and down his shaft faster now, sucking hard as her hand curled at his balls, squeezing just enough to have him cursing under his breath.
"Ahhh," Devon groaned.
Her tongue moved around him, guiding every motion like she was conducting his breakdown.
Devon was gone.
His mouth fell open. A quiet, helpless sound slipped out of him. His whole body clenched as she took him deeper one last time and held him there, throat tightening around him as she swallowed.
That was it.
Devon’s hands gripped the sides of her head, and he thrust deep one final time, holding her there.
Pressed in.
Her nose buried against his pelvis.
Her throat full of him.
He came with a rough, broken sound, the tension snapping out of him in hot, pulsing waves. Lina gagged again but didn’t pull back. She held him there, swallowing around him as he spilled into her mouth, tears streaking down her cheeks from the pressure, but she took it all of it.
Only when his grip finally loosened did she slowly ease off, lips dragging along his length until he slipped from her mouth with a wet pop.
She stayed kneeling, breathing hard, chin wet, lips swollen and soaked between her thighs.
She looked up at him through tear-lined lashes.
Then she licked the corner of her mouth and smiled.