He kneels to have better control as he drops his head and moves his lips over the pulse in my neck. I gasp, loving the soft texture of his lips along with the rough texture of his beard. A shiver works up my spine, and he hums again low in his throat, enjoying my reaction to him. He isn’t even kissing me; he’s just running his lips over my skin. His lips run over every inch of my neck like he’s marking me with his scent. When he hooks a finger into the neck of my T-shirt with his free hand, I swallow so hard it’s audible.
My heart begins to beat fast, but this time for a different reason. I know what he’s about to do, so I stay perfectly still, waiting. But he just continues to run his lips over my neck, along my jaw, and the shell of my ear, only to start the process all over again. Relaxing again, I keep my eyes closed and arch my neck sohe has access to do whatever he wants to do with me. He tugs on my shirt, exposing the scar on my collarbone.
I’m relaxed and putty in his hands. This morning, he trusted me, allowing me to see his scars and touch them. He makes me feel safe and seen. He makes me feel like a woman. His lips lightly run over my scar. It’s only about three inches long, but it reminds me of who put it there, so I hate it. Victor continues to run his lips along it, making every nerve in my body fire.
I want to rub my thighs together to get some friction, wanting him to do something about the discomfort building in my core. He would make me feel amazing. Then he runs his tongue over my scar and I cry out.
“Victor,” I moan, unable to stay quiet any longer. Pulling away from my scar, his dark green eyes meet mine. I can still feel him all over my neck, the sensation of his lips, and the gentle scrape of his beard. He releases my hair and cups the side of my neck running his thumb over my lips. Flicking my tongue against the pad of his thumb causes the green in his already dilated eyes to completely disappear.
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me up into his lap, so I’m straddling him. I want to be flush against him, but he holds me so I’m sitting on his upper thighs. Victor stares at me for one more second, then he captures my mouth with his.
Chapter twenty-eight
Victor
Ican’t get enough of her. Everything in me wants to lay her down on this blanket and show her what true pleasure is, but she’s not ready. I’m not ready, still feeling a little raw after telling her what happened with Josie. Olivia enjoys doing things like riding horses, sitting on the back porch, and enjoying the simplicity of life. Josie was never like that.
She wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me back with more fervor than she did this morning. This is the one thing Donovan will never have. She still hasn’t told me everything, but she will as she’s ready. Olivia tries to get closer to me, but I hold her still. My cock is painfully hard and if she rocks against it, the possibility of me coming in my pants rises exponentially. I kiss her harder, licking into her mouth with more tenacity than this morning.
Olivia rubs the palm of her hand along my beard, down my throat, and to the back of my neck. She likes the way it feels against her. I can’t wait to show her how it will feel between her thighs. I pull away, both of us breathing hard. Her eyes are still closed like she’s reliving the kiss, then she’s leaning in again.
Almost stopping her because I’m so on edge, I decide against it, not wanting her to think she’s being rejected. My goal is to help her overcome any insecurities she might have not be the reason for them. Returning her kiss and lowering her to the blanket, I keep my weight on my knees to free up my hands to roam from her neck, over her shoulder, down her arm, and to her waist. Keeping my hand on her waist, my thumb rests on her stomach.
Her legs drop to the ground and she wraps one of her legs around mine as she arches into my touch. Fuck. I want her. Taking her bottom lip between mine and sucking on it before diving in again. She moans softly, but stops herself before it’s even all the way out. I pull away from her lips and bury my head in the crook of her neck.
“You don’t have to be quiet, baby. I want to hear you,” I encourage her. At the same time, my thumb brushes under her breast and she stiffens. She tensed earlier, but she’s not relaxing even a little, so I kiss her lightly on the neck before pushing away and leaning back on my knees.
Her eyes are squeezed shut, and she’s breathing hard. Watching her closely, I’m not sure if she’s okay or not. She swallows as she tries to rein in her emotions, then brings her arms up to cover her face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I want to touch her to encourage her, but she won’t accept it right now. “You don’t have to be sorry,” I tell her. Olivia places her palms on the ground and pushes up. I scoot back further togive her some space. She pulls her knees up to her chest, wraps her arms around her legs, and lays her forehead on her knees.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she says. Her forehead is still on her knees. I brace myself because I’m not going to like what she’s about to reveal. “He would force me to orgasm. I hated it.” Her voice cracks. “So, anytime I’d moan or even acted like I might enjoy it, he’d tell me to be louder. I would try so hard not to.” She stops and shakes her head.
Clenching my teeth so hard they might crack, I force myself to relax my muscles even though my stomach is churning. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.” She doesn’t respond right away, which gives me time to come up with various ways to make Donovan suffer. Olivia drops her arms from her face and stares up at me with a sad smile.
“I feel so broken,” she whispers.
Her words and the vulnerability in her eyes would bring me to my knees if I wasn’t already on the ground. I extend my hand to her, giving her the choice to take it or not. It takes her a moment, but she finally does, and I kiss each finger before releasing her and sitting back. Spreading my legs out in front of me, my knees aching a little from kneeling for so long she spreads her legs out in front of her too, causing our legs to touch each other and she leans against my boot, resting her arm on my ankles.
I smile to myself, but don’t call attention to her. I don’t think she realizes how often she touches me. Handing her a bottle of water, she opens it and takes a sip from it. “You’re not broken,” I tell her while taking out the rest of the food Betsy packed for us. “We both have a few cracks, but together we can make each other whole.” She stares at me for a few moments. It bothers me that her friends don’t see what I see.How have they not noticed how hard she tries to keep it together?
Maybe it’s because I’m so aware of her. I see how skittish she is, how she tries so hard to keep it together, and how she poursinto other people to keep the attention off of herself. Bec noticed yesterday and James has noticed, but others haven’t. Why? Are they that self absorbed? Or is she really that good at hiding?
Olivia takes another sip of her water. “You always know exactly what to say.” She grabs one of the bags with a brownie and takes a bite, then hums. “That is really good.” I chuckle and nod as I take a bite from my sandwich.
“Betsy has some kind of special recipe that she refuses to share,” I tell her.
She shrugs as she takes another bite and closes her eyes, savoring it. “Even if she did share it with me, I wouldn’t be able to replicate it. I’m not the best cook.” She smiles at me. “But I can make a great cup of tea or coffee.”
I smirk. “Well, I expect you to make me one of those before you leave today.” Winking at her, I take another bite of my sandwich.
Her cheeks redden slightly as she returns my smile. “Deal.”
We fall into a comfortable silence as we finish our food. Olivia begins to clean up as I finish my brownie. I almost stop her to tell her I can do it, but pause. She has a smile on her face and her shoulders are relaxed. She’s gotten past the incident from earlier and now she’s in her element. I try hard not to compare her to Josie, but in instances like this, it’s difficult. This was the part of Josie’s personality that didn’t line up with her claim that she was a submissive.
Not that all submissives have to act this way, but she wanted it to be a lifestyle, not just in the bedroom. Yet her actions never lined up with her words. I should have seen it, but wanted it to work so badly I ignored my instincts. I promised myself to never do that again.
