That does make me smile. “A story that will stay with us.”
Oliver steps in front of me and in a flash raises his hands to plant home on the sides of my face, holding me in place to ensure my eyes can’t escape his. That pounding in my chest returns with a pattern only for him.
The heat in his eyes will cause me to simmer all night.
He enjoys being in control, but this time, I won’t let him have the first word. “It will stay with us,” I rasp.
The corner of his lips pull an inch from my words before he slams his mouth down on mine, the flames inside me now on full blast.
My tongue delves into his mouth for a flick while I wrap my arms around his neck. My insides are turning to liquid because his hand is running down the side of my body and stopping right at the hem of my dress. His fingers drag the fabric up, causing agony because I want him to move faster. The ache between my legs is pounding because we’ve escalated at record speed.
His lips rip away from mine, and he spins me around with a little force. Pushing against my back, enough for me to fall forward with my hands landing on the counter. This is the position of his choice, and I love it, which is why I tilt my ass back and place my forearms on the counter.
I feel the snap of my panties as he pulls the waistband. A little murmur escapes me, and I bite my bottom lip. My hair is wild and becoming a mess around my face. It’s distracting but not enough, because Oliver just managed to rip my lace panties.
Sensitivity overloads, and there’s a tingle in my nipples, wanting to be traced. I try to reach behind me, to touch him, but I fail and my upper body flattens against the surface with his hand between my legs.
“You drive me fucking crazy. You know that?” His lips graze the back of my neck, and I let a moan escape when his finger swipes along my pussy.
It’s an inferno. An uncontrollable rage that is a passion I’ve never felt before.
I tilt my ass to press against him, offering more space to touch my clit and make me wild.
He notices, and I hear a chuckle buried in his throat.
“Oliver.” I feel my pulse soaring.
Oliver encases my body when he leans over. His stomach to my back and his hand shackling my wrists above my head. I ignore the feeling of the cool quartz underneath me or the fact it’s hard and pressing a little against my hip bones. It’s all forgotten when I attempt to glance over my shoulder, but halfway our mouths fuse for a kiss. Slowing us down as his fingers play with me, stroking me. I’m surviving on his touch alone.
“Please,” I beg.
“Please what?” he husks then draws his mouth down my neck, sending a tickle down to my toes.
“Fuck me.” I’m breathless.
He surprises me when he lets my arms go and stands up, leaving my body in a 90-degree angle. He squares my hips only to give my ass a little pat, as though it’s the ending of what is transpiring in here. He says nothing, but I get the drift and stand up, slowly turning to see his stoic face.
I can’t question what is happening because he answers me by returning his hand to my waist. “Tell me and answer me honestly,” he says, adamant. “Do you prefer that I fuck you right here on the kitchen counter because we are trapped in a moment, or would you rather we go to my bedroom where I lay you down because we’re trapped in something else that we are too scared to admit?”
That’s my option. Hard and fast. Or slow because it means something.
It’s an answer that I’m scared to admit, but he wants the truth. “Your room,” I whisper and attempt to avoid his gaze that spears into me.
He places a finger under my chin to lift my gaze back up. “Then don’t make me ask.”
I sweep up his other hand and intertwine our fingers. With no words, I lead the way. Every step to his room builds the anticipation.
The moment that we’re in his room, I turn to see his eyes gleaming with a look I haven’t seen before. He steps forward, and I step back, then he steps forward and again I step back. All the way until the back of my knees hit the mattress and I drop down to sitting. I’m unable to tear my eyes away from his fierce gaze that has me entranced.
Oliver pulls up his shirt and throws it off to the side. I don’t wait for instruction or his hands, I strip until I’m naked. Lying back, my hair splays against the duvet, and I watch intently as he undoes his jeans.
The moment he is over me with my thighs resting against his hips, I realize that this won’t be like the other times.
My hands float around his back, occasionally brushing his skin, our mouths chase, and we’re in no rush.
His cock rests against my pussy, and although desperate to lead him inside me, that’s not what this is.
There’s a slow and silent awareness of indescribable feelings we share, yet an unwillingness to say a word except one another’s names.
