Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 222

Chapter 222

“Dominic, maybe save that for later.”

“Later?” He kissed my thigh, his lips hot against the fabric of my dress. “I do not want later. I want now. I want to feel your legs wrapped around my neck while I eat you out until you cum all over my face.”

“Dominic.”

“I want to fuck you so hard you forget your own name. I want to fill your pussy with my cum and watch it drip down your thighs.”

I pressed my hand over his mouth, my face burning. “Please, Dominic. We are almost at the hospital.”

He kissed my palm, his tongue tracing a slow line across my skin, and I pulled my hand away like I had been burned.

The car pulled into the hospital parking lot and the bodyguards carried Dominic inside while I ran ahead, finding a nurse, explaining the situation as quickly as I could. They took him from us, laying him on a gurney, and I watched them wheel him away, a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.

“I need to speak to the doctor,” I said, grabbing the nurse’s arm. “He has been drugged with something. I do not know what it is but he is burning up and he is not acting like himself.”

The nurse nodded and disappeared through the swinging doors. I paced the waiting room, my arms crossed, my mind racing. The bodyguards stood by the entrance, their eyes scanning the room, still alert, still professional.

Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty. Then the doctor emerged, a middle-aged man with tired eyes and a calm demeanor.

“We have stabilized him,” he said. “Whatever he was given was a powerful aphrodisiac combined with a stimulant. It raised his body temperature dangerously high. We have him on fluids and sedatives now. He will be fine but he needs to rest for at least a day.”

I let out a breath I did not realize I had been holding. “Can I see him?”

“He is sleeping now. But you can sit with him if you like.”

I thanked the doctor and made my way to Dominic’s room. He was lying in the bed, an IV drip connected to his arm, his chest rising and falling in a slow steady rhythm. He looked peaceful, the tension gone from his face, his lips slightly parted. I pulled a chair to his bedside and sat down, taking his hand in mine.

I stayed there for an hour, maybe longer, just watching him breathe. Then remembered that he would need clothes to leave the hospital. His pants were soaked through and I was not about to let him walk out of here in hospital scrubs.

“I need to go buy him some clothes,” I told one of the bodyguards who was standing outside the door. “Stay with him. Do not let anyone in unless it is a doctor.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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