“Maybe that’s the point,” she grinned. “Maybe I like your punishments.”
Having her wrapped around me had my cock throbbing against the zipper of my jeans. When I couldn’t stand it a moment longer, I gave her lace panties a quick tug, ripping them free from her waist. I’d barely freed myself from my jeans when she tilted her hip, pushing herself down on my hard cock. She felt so fucking good, so tight, warm, and wet. I had to fight the urge to come right then and there. I put my hands on her hips, forcing her to remain still, so I could stop my dick from twitching for its release. She kept still for only a moment, but that was all I needed.
When I released my hands from her hips and planted them on the wall, she wound her arms around my neck and slowly began nipping at it. I eased back, then plunged deep inside of her, giving her every inch of my dick, and relished in the sounds of her whimpers next to my ear. Her head fell back as she started to rock her hips against me, groaning in pleasure as she tried to inch herself up and down my cock. I withdrew again, only to drive into her over and over again, my pace quickening with every stroke. My rhythm became more and more demanding, and her nails raked across my back as tried to hold on. I should’ve slowed down, savored the moment, but my need for her was relentless and unforgiving. The moment her breath caught, silencing the little whimpers that always drove me wild, I knew she was getting close to the edge, which only made me want to fuck her even harder.
“Cotton,” she shouted as she clamped down on my cock, her orgasm pulsing against me. Fuck, she felt so damn good. I couldn’t get enough of her. I could almost feel her tighten around me as her release jolted through her body.
Fuck. I wanted to stay lost in that memory of her coming undone, but I felt myself being pulled away. No matter how hard I tried to hold on, the warmth of her body was slowly disappearing, being replaced with the sounds of someone talking. When I opened my eyes, I saw Maverick standing at the end of the bed, talking to a doctor. Reality came rushing back, and so did the memories of being shot. I’d come back from surgery late last night, only to realize I’d lost some of the feeling in my lower legs, which made it difficult to move them. The nurse tried to explain how the doctors were unable to remove the bullet from my back, but got flustered when I grilled her for more information. The pain medication they’d given me made it difficult to stay awake, so I’d spent most of the night and morning completely out of it. I was finally coming out of the haze and tried to focus on what the doctor was saying to Maverick, but his voice was low, making it difficult to understand him.
“He’s stable for now,” the doctor told him. He coughed into his fisted hand and then continued, “Like the nurse said earlier, we managed to remove the bullet from his shoulder, but we were hesitant to do the same for the one in his back. During entry, the bullet grazed the lower cortex of his spine, and it has caused a great deal of swelling. It’s lodged next to his spine, and the surgery to remove it is risky.”
“Risky how?” Maverick asked.
“At this point, we don’t know if the numbness in his legs is permanent. There is a very slight chance it will dissipate on its own. There is a greater chance it is permanent. In that case, the only hope would be to remove the bullet, which would be a difficult surgery. It could leave him permanently paralyzed, or it could solve the problem altogether. There is no way to be sure. We can leave the bullet where it is. With close monitoring and antibiotics, he should be fine, but without the surgery, he may not regain full use of his legs,” the doctor clarified.
“I’ll talk to him, but I already know what he’ll say.”
“It’s important he understands. It’s a gamble either way we go. Surgical decompression of the bullet from the spinal cord has been shown to improve neurological recovery, but there are no guarantees. We can’t be certain the surgery will improve his chances of walking. There may be localized nerve damage, but we won’t know until there’s been further testing.”
“What are his chances of walking without the surgery?” Maverick asked.
“Honestly, it doesn’t look good.”
I cleared my throat, drawing both of their attention towards me and said, “I want the surgery.”
“You don’t have to make that decision just yet. You’ve just come out of a pretty extensive surgery, Mr. Walker.” the doctor answered.
“Doesn’t matter. I want the surgery.”
Maverick walked over to me and said, “You sure about this? You can survive if they just leave the bullet where it is.”
“I don’t want to just survive, Maverick,” I snapped. “I’ve got nothing if I can’t walk. You and I both know that.”