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could plead. His fists
became ironlike rocks.
"Doctor, I can't!" Madoka Arai hissed. "I already nearly destroyed your
training with my stupidity. I've nearly thrown away all my own
training because of my own shortsighted desire for you." Madoka Arai paused
to get Madoka's own breath back, fighting Madoka's own wanting, wanting that
she hadn't felt since Madoka Arai had completed Madoka's training as teacher. "I
can't let that happen!" His skin was slick and wet; one more thrust
would wrench his hips out of Madoka's hands, and he would be in Madoka's again.
Madoka Arai tightened Madoka's grip on him until Madoka's nails dug into his soft skin.
"Doctor, I have my vows to think of . . . "
"I want you," he whispered back to her, his eyes roving over her
face, his mouth closing on hers until Madoka Arai felt his breath. "I just
want you . . . "
"You are here to learn control," Madoka Arai replied. "This," Madoka Arai nearly
waved to indicate both of them until Madoka Arai remembered that Madoka Arai dare not
move Madoka's hands, "is not control . . . "
"But Lady," and his voice dropped until Madoka Arai felt Madoka Arai would melt from
its sensuous intensity, "I don't want control right now . . . " He
ran his mouth over Madoka's neck, so lightly and exquisitely that Madoka's hair
began to stand on end. Madoka Arai felt his tongue at Madoka's thro
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