My hand slipped lower, trailing the curve of her ass, gripping it tight as I rocked into her. The sound she made—breathless and completely sexy—hit me harder than any touchdown ever had. Her nails grazed my chest. Her touch was greedy now, her fingers raking down my abs like she was memorizing me one line at a time.
“Tell me you want this,” I growled against her throat, sucking a mark below her jaw. “I need to hear you wantme.”
Her legs tightened around me, her nails biting into my shoulders. “I want this. I need you.”
Fuck. That did it.
I kissed her again, rougher this time, tugging her hair and tilting her head back so I could take the kiss deeper. I sucked her tongue, completely mad and obsessed with her.
I pulled back enough to see her eyes—flushed, glassy, wild—but still holding that flicker of hesitation. Of trust. The kind she didn’t give lightly. I brushed her hair back from her face, my voice shaky with everything I felt.
“You remember what you told me?” I whispered, cupping her jaw, letting my thumb rest beneath her mouth. “About trust being your thing? About wanting someone who doesn’t take control—but earns it?”
She nodded slowly, breath catching.
I leaned in, kissed the corner of her mouth, slow and reverent.
“Then let me earn it, Sloane.”
My hand slid up her spine, the other still gripping her hip as I pressed my forehead to hers.
“You don’t have to think. Don’t have to plan. Just give me tonight, and I’ll take care of everything. All of you. Every second. Every inch. You feel.”
“Just… tonight?” Something flashed across her face, but it was so fast, and my brain was too turned on to register what itwas. “Okay,” she said, her lips curving up as her gaze heated. “Yes, Oliver. Tonight, I’m yours.”
21
SLOANE
“That was the right answer, honey,” Oliver said, his gaze darkening with want and need, mirroring the overwhelming heat coursing through my body. His voice even dropped an octave, like this tension between us physically pained him.
“You think so?” I said, breathless, on edge. A million reasons told me not to do this, but I shoved them into a box in the back of my mind. It was for one night. Just one night.
“Oh, honey,” Oliver replied, voice dripping with desire. “I’m in charge now, and I’ve waited a long time to touch you, to hear the sounds you make when you come.”
I shuddered from the promise in his voice. I’d thought of nothing but his mouth on me since that morning we woke up together.
His hands were firm on my hips as he pulled me closer to the edge of the desk. The change in position made me gasp, my thighs tightening around him instinctively.
“Lie back,” he said, not a request but a low, reverent command. His hands slid up under my bikini top, untying the back strings as it fell to the side. “I want to see you.”
I hesitated only for a second before leaning back on my elbows, my breathing shallow as he studied me. Not stared. Watched—like he was memorizing every inch of me, soaking it in like a man who’d been starving.
“Jesus, Sloane,” he muttered, eyes dragging over my body like it physically hurt to hold back. “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”
He kissed a path up my stomach, slow and steady, his tongue flicking against the sensitive dip above my waistband. Then higher. Then higher. I arched up to meet him, needing more—needing anything.
“I’ve got you,” he said again, his hands pinning my hips to the desk with maddening precision. “You focus on my mouth on you.”
His mouth reached my nipple, and my breath caught. He tugged one between his teeth as he stared up at me.
“Is this okay?” he asked, voice rough but patient, one hand still steady on my side like he’d wait all night if I needed him to.
“Yes,” I whispered. “God, yes.”
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured. “You have no idea what it’s taken not to touch you like this.” He sucked my nipple into his mouth, the warmth of his tongue contrasting with the sting of his teeth. I arched forward, groaning with pleasure as he dragged his tongue across my chest toward my other breast.
Moisture pooled between my legs, heat and want and lust combining into a storm I couldn’t contain. “Oliver, yes, I need?—”
