The Doctor Forbidden Plus-Size Nurse

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The hospital administrator stood in my room like a judge ready to deliver a sentence, her thin lips pressed into a disapproving line. “Miss Monroe, we have strict policies regarding relationships between doctors and patients. Dr. Black’s request to extend your stay raises serious questions.”

I shifted uncomfortably in the bed, my ribs still aching with every breath. Before I could respond, Ethan stepped forward, his broad frame creating a wall between me and her. His voice was ice-cold and commanding. “This is a medical decision, not a personal one. Lila has received multiple threats while under our care. She stays until I personally clear her. End of discussion.”

The woman opened her mouth, took one look at Ethan’s stony expression, and thought better of it. She nodded stiffly and left.

The moment the door clicked shut, I exhaled shakily. Ethan turned to me, his blue eyes softening as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me carefully into his arms.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured against my hair. “Some people can’t mind their own business.”

His hands immediately began to wander beneath the thin sheet, sliding over my soft belly. He rubbed slow, possessive circles there, fingers sinking into the plush fullness like he couldn’t get enough. “God, Lila… you feel so f*****g good,” he whispered, voice rough with want. “I love how soft and full you are right here. These wide hips, these thick thighs… they’ve been driving me crazy since the moment I saw you.”

Heat flooded through me. Even after everything — the crash, the threats, the pain — his touch made me wet. I reached up and touched his jaw, and he kissed me hard, tongue claiming my mouth while one large hand cupped the heavy weight of my breast, thumb brushing over my n****e until it peaked.

“We shouldn’t do too much yet,” he said against my lips, but he didn’t stop. His fingers trailed down, gripping the soft thickness of my thigh, squeezing possessively. “Soon, though. When you’re stronger, I’m going to worship every inch of this beautiful body. Kiss it. Taste it. Make you understand how obsessed I am.”

A sharp knock interrupted us. Ethan pulled back quickly and stood just as Dr. Ryan Hayes walked in, carrying fresh charts and wearing an easy smile.

“How’s our favorite patient today?” Dr. Hayes asked, his eyes flicking over me a little too appreciatively, lingering on my chest. “You’re looking brighter already, Lila. That glow suits you.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened visibly. “She’s under my care, Dr. Hayes. I’ll handle her updates.”

But Dr. Hayes lingered, checking my IV and making light conversation about hospital food and my recovery. I smiled politely, but I could feel the tension rolling off Ethan in waves. When Hayes finally left, Ethan locked the door with a decisive click.

“He better keep his eyes to himself,” he growled, returning to the bed. “You’re mine, Lila.”

I let out a soft laugh. “Jealous already?”

“Extremely.” He kissed me deeper this time, pressing me back against the pillows while being careful of my injuries. His hand slipped between my thighs, rubbing me through the thin gown until I was panting and aching for more. “I want to taste you so badly,” he groaned. “But not here. Not yet.”

We stayed like that for a while afterward, talking quietly. He told me more about his father — how Richard Black pulled strings across the city and sat on the hospital board. “He thinks he owns everything… including me,” Ethan said, voice tight. “But I stopped letting him control my life a long time ago.”

My phone buzzed on the bedside table. Unknown number. I showed it to Ethan and put it on speaker.

“Leave the hospital or the next accident will be worse,” the distorted voice warned. “And Dr. Black knows exactly why this happened. Ask him about the drug trials.”

The call ended abruptly. Ethan’s face hardened. He paced the small room, running a hand through his dark hair.

“What drug trials?” I asked, fear twisting in my stomach.

He sat down and took my hand, his thumb stroking my skin. “My father’s company funds certain research here. There were… complications. Patients got hurt. I tried to expose it, but he shut me out. Your crash might be connected. You may have seen something you weren’t supposed to. Someone doesn’t want you remembering — or talking.”

The weight of his words settled over me, but his touch helped ground me. He stayed most of the morning, stealing touches whenever we were alone — his hands lingering on my wide hips as he helped me to the bathroom, his lips brushing my temple while whispering how beautiful I was, how perfect every soft curve felt under his fingers.

By afternoon, the rumors had started. A nurse I used to work with gave me a knowing look while changing my bandages. “People are talking about you and Dr. Black. Just… be careful.”

Ethan returned after his rounds and immediately sensed my unease. He climbed carefully into the bed beside me and pulled me against his chest.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” he said firmly. His hand slid under the sheet again, grabbing a generous handful of my soft belly and squeezing with clear hunger. “I don’t want anyone else. I want this. These curves. I want to bury my face between these thick thighs and make you scream my name until you forget every doubt.”

I kissed him to silence the fear, our hands exploring as much as the hospital gown and my injuries allowed. The heat between us built until his pager went off, forcing him back to the OR with a frustrated groan.

Alone again, my mind spun with everything — the threats, the secrets, Dr. Hayes’ lingering looks. Evening brought a small reprieve when Ethan returned with real food from outside the hospital. We ate together, sharing quiet moments filled with his constant, reverent touches.

But around nine, the lights flickered. My heart jumped. Then my phone lit up with a text from an unknown number:

Check your door.

Ethan moved first, checking the hallway before spotting a small envelope slipped underneath. Inside was a photo of me sleeping — taken from inside this very room last night — and a note: “Next time she won’t wake up.”

His face drained of color. He pulled me tightly into his arms, his powerful body trembling with barely contained rage. “I swear I’ll end whoever is doing this to you.”

I clung to him, terrified but safer than I’d felt in days. His hands continued their gentle worship — stroking my belly, my hips, my thighs — as if touching me reassured him I was still here.

As I drifted off against his chest that night, one thought wouldn’t leave me: the hospital wasn’t safe anymore. And whatever Richard Black was hiding could destroy everything we were building.

We were running out of time.

I woke up with Ethan’s arm wrapped possessively around me, his large hand resting on the soft curve of my belly even in sleep. For one fleeting moment, everything felt safe. Then the memory of the photo from last night crashed back in, and my stomach dropped.

He stirred as I shifted. “Morning, beautiful,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep. His fingers squeezed my curves gently before he sat up. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. Scared,” I admitted, touching his face. “But better with you here.”

He kissed me slow and deep, like he needed the connection as much as I did. His hand slid under my gown to cup one of my heavy breasts, thumb brushing over my n****e until I gasped. “I hate that I can’t take you properly yet,” he whispered against my lips. “These thick thighs… I want them wrapped around my head so f*****g badly.