She’s barely caught her breath before her hands are on me, clawing at my sweater, desperate to pull me up and closer. “Can I have you now?” she asks, echoing my words from before.
I drag my sweater off over my head, and I don’t miss the way her eyes immediately rake over me, dark with want. Normally,I’d indulge both of us and let her look her fill, but the need clawing up my spine won’t wait.
I push to stand, taking her body with me, pinning her back up against the wall as my free hand grapples with my pants, desperate to be inside her.
“Oh Nate, I want you, I want you, now—now,” she chants breathlessly, wrapping her thighs around my waist.
Once I’ve freed my cock, I thrust myself deep inside her in one smooth motion—claiming her, filling her, making sure there’s not a breath of space left between us. I lean in for a hungry kiss, swallowing her needy incantations.
With one hand clutching my neck and the other holding onto the edge of the wardrobe for purchase, she arches against me, sliding herself up and down my length, drawing a loud moan from me.
“Fuck…” Her eyes flash and flutter shut as her head rolls against the wall. She’s so gone, lost in the throes of pleasure, but I won’t allow her to drift. Not right now.
“Eyes on me, Olivia.” My hand slides to her throat and I give her a warning squeeze.
Her lashes lift, and when her gaze meets mine, it doesn’t falter—green, bright and impossibly open. In this moment, there is nothing but her pulse beneath my palm and her trust laid bare in her eyes.
“Harder,” she whispers.
I obey, carefully applying more pressure around her throat. Her breath stutters, color rising to her cheeks. Something inside me breaks loose at the sight, undone by how beautiful she looks giving in to me.
I fuck her into the wall with wild abandon, unleashing the months of pent-up tension she’s inflicted on me. My strong, beautiful Olivia takes everything I have to give with equal fervor,spurring me on with her loud cries and the rake of her nails across my back.
“Nate, I need more,” she hisses, and the lust in her voice nearly sends me over the edge. “Give it to me.”
If she wants more, she can have it. I’d empty myself for her if she asked. But there is just one more thing I need from her first.
“Tell me you love me.” It comes out rough, pulled from the part of me that’s past reason. I already know she does, but suddenly knowing isn’t enough. I need tohearit in this moment as surely as I need my next breath.
She goes still in my arms, her eyes searching mine. Then her hands come up and frame my face. Her grip is firm and sure, holding me there as if to keep me from slipping further.
When she speaks, her voice is soft but certain. “I love you, Nathaniel.” Then, she presses a single kiss to my lips. “Only you.”
I’m finished.
“I love you so fucking much, Olivia.” I drive into her, deep and relentless, burying myself to the hilt and grinding against her. “You’re it for me, baby. It’s you or nobody.”
Whatever response she might have had dissolves on a gasp. From the tautness of her neck and the tensing of her thighs, I can tell she’s close again.
“You’re mine.” I kiss her cheeks, her jaw, her mouth. Then I reach between us, brushing my thumb over her swollen nub. “And I will always be yours.”
She comes with a startled cry, clenching around my cock in a way that makes me delirious. I seal my lips to hers, needing to feel as connected to her as humanly possible, as my hips piston into her, over and over, racing toward the end.
I can feel the need and madness rising higher and higher until I make one final thrust and still at her deepest point. I pantinto her mouth as I jerk my release, hard and dizzying, inside her.
We stay entwined, pressed against the wall. She softens against me, boneless and warm, as I do. Every muscle goes slack, every thought dissolves, the world briefly leveled by satiation.
Later, when night settles over the city and she sleeps draped across my chest, I trace idle circles along her back and feel the calm already beginning to fracture. The craving always returns—because I know this isn’t enough.
Sleep steals her from me in small, measured breaths, but my mind is already elsewhere. Seeing her in white, hearing my name bound to hers—only then, when she bears it as her own, will this hunger quiet for good.
EIGHTEEN
olivia
The soy saucepacket leaks as I peel it open, slicking my fingers. Carolyn tosses me a napkin without looking up from her fried rice, already halfway through a spring roll.
We’re on Sophie’s living room floor again—takeout containers spread across a coffee table we’ve pushed aside, our backs resting against her couch. It feels like a rerun of some earlier version of ourselves. Except now, the air smells faintly of sunscreen and airport perfume, and I’m the only one who didn’t spend spring break somewhere tropical.
