He sniffed as he leaned down, placed his hands on her desk inches from her own and softly growled. “You have no male in your life and you aren’t pregnant.”
She swallowed hard. “You don’t know anything about my personal life. Please take your seat.”
“I can smell everything about you.” He stared deeply into her eyes. “You no longer wear that stink you called perfume and switched to organic soap.”
“I was informed that it bothers your sense of smell.”
“You had sex this morning but you were alone. Do you watch porn in your room, Dr. Yards? Do you use your fingers or do you own some of those sex toys I have seen?”
She felt the blood drain from her face. How does he know that? Another thought struck and she jerked her hands off the desk. Can every client I’ve seen today tell I’ve masturbated? That implication was staggering. She was mortified and hoped he was bluffing. “Please sit down and stop trying to provoke me into releasing you early from the session.”
“Where’s your honesty now?” He leaned toward her and slowly inhaled. “I. Can. Smell. You.” A soft growl came from deep within his throat. “It drives me a little crazy and wild. Do you know what I want to do about it?”
“No. Please take your seat.”
His eyes were beautiful that close, just a foot from her. They reminded her of melted chocolate with a hint of gold thrown in. The pupils seemed to narrow as he watched her. He growled again and inched even closer until she could smell him. He carried a rich, masculine scent with a hint of something familiar that she could identify—he’d recently drunk coffee.
“I want to lay you out on this desk, bare, and lick between your spread thighs, which will be hugging my face, until you beg me to take you. I’d flip you on your stomach and bend you over in front of me right here.” His finger tapped the wooden surface of her desk. “I’d fuck you until we both couldn’t walk, think, or talk.”
Her hands trembled in her lap and clenched. She wished her chair had wheels so she could push it away from him and the desk. Wishing didn’t make it so. Her heart raced and the idea of him doing that to her did odd, funny things to her lower belly.
“It would feel so good for both of us. Do you want to help me? Take off your clothes. That’s the only way you’ll make me feel better about the things that I’ve suffered.”
She latched on to his last sentence like the drowning person she was, admitting that she found him far too appealing. She had eyes—he was a perfect specimen of muscles and tan skin, all wrapped up in a six-foot-four frame.
“Sex isn’t the answer. Talking about your problems is.”
“I’ll talk while I fuck you. I’m sure I’ll have lots to say about how good you’ll feel.”
She forced her gaze down to his hands. They were big and she knew there were calluses on his fingertips, the pads of his thumbs, and his palms. Most of the survivors had that anomaly and she’d noticed in other sessions that he had it too. She wondered what his hands would feel like on her skin. Rough? Good? Or like sandpaper? It was tempting to find out.
“Please take your seat, 466.” She looked up to stare directly into his eyes. “I will call for the guard to return.”
He shook his head but straightened and returned to his seat. She breathed easier when he sat. He once again crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “I’m not into threesomes. I know they are popular with humans but it sickens me. We get turned off by the scent of other males on females and I’d have to strangle him if he touched you.”
Her mouth dropped open. “That’s not why I’d call him!” She sealed her lips and frowned back at him. “You know that though. Are you having fun playing with me?”
He smiled. “You won’t allow me to play with you.” He licked his lips, purposely showing her his tongue. “Next time you engage in sex alone remember me because I’ll be doing the same.” Amusement flashed in his eyes. “As soon as I leave here I’m going to my room.” His legs spread a little and he adjusted his ass in the chair. “I’m already hard.”
Her gaze flicked downward before she could stop the reaction. The outline of his cock was clear inside the sweatpants he wore. Most New Species hated any form of underwear she’d been told, and without them it was obvious 466 wasn’t lying. She gasped at his large size and he laughed.
She glared at his face. “That’s totally inappropriate. I see you need to retake the class about what to say to people and what not to. Remember Manners 101?”