I don’t have time to wonder how I feel about that name because I’m too busy letting him tug down my leggings. I also don’t have time to worry about what he’s going to think about me not wearing any underwear. I get the feeling this guy does not give a single fuck about the state of me at all. I think I could be covered in sweat and mud and bug bites from the garden and he’d still be down to fuck.
And there’s something so wonderfully sexy about that thought that it only turns me on even more.
I can barely control my shivers as Oliver rolls my leggings down my legs and all the way off.
“Holy shit, look at you,” he groans.
He reaches between our bodies and pushes a thigh to one side. I gasp at the first contact of his hand between my legs.
I whimper as his fingers split me open, noticing how wet I am. There’s no hiding how deeply turned on I am now.
He easily slides in one, and I grip him. It’s not everything I want, but having this man touch me feels incredible.
“Oliver,” I gasp. “What are we doing?”
It’s more a question out of wonder than protest, and I hope he can sense that.
“We’re gonna make you come, baby girl.”
My body bucks against him, and I begin riding that hand.
He adds a second finger and begins stroking my clit at the same time.
I squeak like a kitten as he strokes in and out, making me leak all over his hand.
Oliver’s mouth is on my breast once more, the intensity ramping up, making me ready to scream and claw at him as he builds up the heat in my belly higher and higher.
His thumb on my clit is too much, bringing me so close to the edge. I need something to hold on to as I buck and ride hishand. I lace my fingers through his short-cropped hair, loving how surprisingly soft it feels.
The orgasm is coming shockingly fast. One more sweep over my aching clit, and I come apart.
“Oh god! Oliver!”
“That’s it…come for me, Iris…come just like that…unbelievable…you come sweeter than pie…just for me…”
I don’t know how he knows, but the praise only makes me come harder, multiple times in a row.
He overloads my senses and fills my ears with words no one has ever said to me.
I’m still catching my breath when I hear the crinkle of a wrapper, and my body sings when my brain registers what that means for me.
More of him. All of him inside me. Right fucking now.
Sitting up, I snatch the condom out of his hands.
“Let me…”
Oliver doesn’t protest.
Somewhere along the way, Oliver has kicked off his jeans and underwear. It occurs to me that we’re both naked as jaybirds in my studio, while the rest of the town parties outside. I love the idea of us, two strangers hiding away from the crowds, being deliciously slutty.
Oliver fits perfectly in my hand. Long and heavy, with one thick vein trailing up the underside. It’s red, pulsating, and it grows as I hold it, carefully rolling the condom on for him.
“Never had someone do that for me before,” he rumbles.
I bite my lip. “I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay.”
