"First," I murmur, my voice dropping to something softer, more deliberate, "I'll need to check your internal temperature."
Dayana's eyes widen. "You have a thermometer, right?"
"Mmm. Went missing." I let the words hang in the air between us. "I'll have to do it old school."
My hand slips beneath her dress, fingers grazing her inner thigh. Dayana's breath hitches, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
"Now that's a good reaction," I murmur.
She bites her lip. "Your fingers are warm."
I smile, pressing deeper. "So are you. Perfectly warm. Perfectly responsive.”
"Is it just me," I breathe, "or is it getting hot in here?"
I undo the top button of my lab coat. Then the next.
Dayana watches, her chest rising and falling a little faster now. Her eyes track my fingers as they work each button loose.
“Now," I say, my voice a quiet promise, "I'll check your breasts. Thoroughly."
I let my hand drift upward, fingers freeing the curve of her breast from the fishnet. She inhales sharply, lips parting, and gives a slow nod.
That's all the permission I need.
No thermometer needed.
Hugs, Daria 🙋♀️
Part 17 of the “Doctor Daria” series.
See my profile for the earlier parts.
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