Under His Care

No Holding Back

Aisha had imagined Doc's home before. Of course she had — a curious mind couldn't help it. But nothing could have prepared her for the reality.

His townhouse sat on a quiet, tree-lined street, understated from the outside but dripping with quiet luxury inside. Polished dark wood floors, steel and glass fixtures, deep leather furniture... everything about the space reflected him — refined, powerful, deliberate.

And now she stood in the center of his living room, nerves fluttering wildly under her skin as he locked the door behind them with a soft click.

Doc set his keys on the console table, turned, and fixed her with that stare — the one that pinned her in place and left her breathless.

"Take your shoes off," he said simply, voice smooth but edged with command.

Her pulse jumped. Without hesitation, she obeyed, slipping her heels off one by one, standing before him barefoot, smaller and more vulnerable in the spacious room. His gaze darkened approvingly.

"Good girl," he murmured, crossing the floor toward her. His hands settled on her hips, thumbs stroking slow circles against the fabric of her dress.

"I've been patient long enough, Aisha. No more supply closets. No more stolen moments. I'm going to show you what it feels like when I have all night to ruin you properly."

A soft gasp escaped her lips as he dipped his head, his mouth brushing her jaw, her throat, the sensitive hollow behind her ear.

"You walked into my hospital three months ago with those bright eyes and that sweet smile..." His fingers skimmed down her back, deliberate, unhurried.

"And ever since then, I've been imagining how it would feel to have you like this — in my space. On my time. Completely under my hands."

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. His expression was serious now — molten heat laced with something deeper. Possession. Devotion.

"I don't just want to touch you tonight, Aisha," he said, voice low and sure.

"I want to learn you. Every gasp. Every shiver. Every spot that makes you melt for me."

Her breath caught, thighs pressing together involuntarily as his words washed over her like silk and fire. Her hands reached instinctively for the buttons of her dress, but Doc caught her wrists gently in his large hands, stopping her.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head slowly, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"I undress you. You stand there and let me."

The authority in his tone made her knees weak.

He circled behind her, his fingers slowly unzipping the back of her dress, knuckles grazing her spine, drawing a shiver from her. The fabric slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but delicate lace.

A soft, approving groan rumbled from his chest. His palms slid up her bare arms before settling firmly on her waist.

"Look at you," he breathed, reverence thick in his voice.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

He guided her toward the bedroom — large, dark, elegantly understated — and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her to stand between his spread knees.

"I'm not just going to take you tonight, Aisha," he promised, his hands sliding reverently along her thighs, hips, waist.

"I'm going to keep you."

Her breath shuddered, her entire body alive with anticipation and heat. Doc looked up at her, eyes locked on hers, voice dropping into that rich, commanding timbre that made her ache.

"Now," he said softly, possessively.

"Climb onto this bed and show me just how much you want to be mine."

Her breath caught. Her body obeyed before her mind even caught up.

And as she crawled onto the cool silk sheets, under the dark, hungry gaze of the man twice her age — her boss, her secret, her undoing — Aisha realized:

She wasn't just falling anymore.

She'd already fallen.

And Dr. Saine had every intention of making sure she never got back up.