The rhythm I’d been creating on his dick ceased. All myattention focused on his soft lips that were licking and exploring mine.
He pulled away, breathless, resting his forehead on mine. ‘I don’t think I’m ever going to get over you,’ he said softly. My head jerked back to stare at him.
‘What?’I breathed. For a second I thought he would try and take those words back, brush them off as something said in the heat of the moment, but his blue eyes betrayed nothing but burning need and something more… something I didn’t dare examine too closely. He gripped the back of my neck and pulled me close, sealing our mouths together once more.
‘Take my cock out,’ he demanded, switching gears. This was the Oliver my head knew how to handle. The one who issued commands and wrung pleasure from my body as if it was an olympic sport. Usually, if a man told me what to do in the bedroom I’d tell him to take a long walk off a short pier—when it came to Oliver though, my rebelliousness flew out the window. I flicked open the button on his jeans and dragged the zipper down. His hard, thick arousal barely contained behind his black briefs. His head fell back on his shoulders, chest lifting and plummeting when I peeled down his underwear, exposing his dick.
Historically, one dick was very much like another to me… and none of them had ever been that appealing. But Olivers stood to attention, long and smooth, the veins twirling around his shaft in intricate patterns. A gush of wetness flooded the lining of my underwear. I didn’t waste another second before wrapping my mouth around its head and taking him to the back of my throat.
Surprised by my sudden move, Oliver let out a shout to the ceiling. His hand shot out to my head, holding on. He made no move to guide me—it was almost like he simply wanted to touch me in some way. I was more than okay with that.
I wrapped my hand around the base as my tongue made patterns around the tip before I drew it down to the back of my throat once more. Loving the salty taste that hit the tip of my tongue. He pulsed in my mouth as I moaned against his length.
‘Jesus.I want to kill every single man that got to feel that mouth before me and also give them a high five,’ he choked out. ‘Goddamn it, baby.’
I spluttered out a laugh which resulted in his dick hitting my gag reflex. Tears prickled my eyes. I pulled off, continuing to pump him with my fist.
‘God, you have to stop. I remember what your pussy feels like and if I think about it too much I’m gonna come in your palm.’ He sat up, reached his hands under my arms and hauled me on top of him. The move knocked all the air from my lungs. He promptly stole the rest as he flipped me on my back and showered kisses down my neck, between the valley of my tits and down to my stomach. Instinctively my hands went to his shoulders, about to push him off. Oliver stopped his descent but didn’t move from his spot.
‘Look at me,’ he rasped. I blinked in confusion for a second because that’s exactly what I was doing. I was caught in his eyes that were usually crystal blue, now his pupils were blown they almost appeared black. ‘Look at me and don’t stop.’
His fingers trailed to the hem of my t-shirt and torturously slowly, Oliver started to lift it from my body. When it reached my neck, he crouched up enough to whip it from my body. He momentarily forgot about the demand to not lose eye contact when my breasts came into view.
They were practically spilling out of my bra. A pained expression crossed Oliver’s face.
‘How am I supposed to go about my day when I know you’ve got these beauties tucked away under your shirt?’
I huffed a breathless laugh. ‘Beauties that are oppressively large and–’
‘Uh uh,’ He pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me. ‘You’re fucking stunning, baby.’
It didn’t seem fair how often he stole the air right from my lungs—with his words, his touch and his ability to quieten the thoughts galloping through my head.
In a move that was so quick I’m not sure how he managed it, he unclasped my bra and drew my right nipple into his mouth. My back arched under the feel of his hot, wet mouth on my skin.
Baring his teeth slightly, he nipped at my breast, pulling one of the loudest moans from my throat. With his other hand he cupped my other boob and started the most amazing massage I’d ever had. His hand flexed against my flesh, moulding, and squeezing until I was bucking my hips up into the air. My pussy searching desperately for something only Oliver could give me. If he didn’t touch me soon, I was going to combust.
I must have made a noise to that effect because Oliver chuckled against my breast.
‘You after something, baby?’ he said in a voice dripping with need. ‘Tell me,’ he demanded, pressing a feather-light kiss to the shell of my ear.
‘Touch me,’ I whimpered.
He made a show of massaging my breast. ‘Iam.’
I growled my frustration which only drew a husky laugh from him. God, any minute now, I was going to perish and it would be all his fault.
‘You can do better than that.’ He swiped his lips over mine. Our eyes connected. ‘Tell me.’
Dirty talk made me uncomfortable. Correction. Dirty talkusedto make me uncomfortable. However, I didn’t even think as the words fled past my lips.
‘I want you to put your fingers inside me and stroke my cunt until I’m about to come, then I want you to thrust your cock so deep into me that I can’t walk tomorrow without feeling where you’ve stretched me.’
Oliver ceased his efforts on my chest, hovering over me with a curious expression. A flash of vulnerability sent my cheeks flaming with embarrassment. It only lasted a few seconds before Oliver growled—yes the man literally growled—and buried his face into my neck. Making a sound that told me my words had seriously affected him.
‘You were made for me, woman,’ he mumbled the words against my skin as the hand cupping my breast lowered, dancing over my stomach and shot straight down to my leggings. I gasped at the contact, and yet it still wasn’t close enough.
‘Take them off,’ I cried out as he ground the heel of his palm against my aching centre. ‘Please God, I need you to touch me properly.’
