My breath hitches in my throat, my tongue sweeping across my bottom lip like she’s the most edible thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting the chance to taste, to consume.
If I were allowed one last meal on death row, she would be it, and I haven’t even had a lick yet.
Olive wasn’t lying.
There isn’t a trace of underwear on her skin, no bra in sight.
Her tits are perfectly proportionate with her body, nipples a light shade of brown, her stomach soft and flat.
I’m desperate to touch her, never been more wrung out to touch anybody, but I’m a patient man.
At least, I can pretend to be for the night, if a night is all I get.
I take in every inch of her. Even the parts you wouldn’t typically look at, but I have thisneedto memorize it all.
Does she have any visible birthmarks? Yes, I see one beneath her ribs. It’s small, and in the shape of Alaska. One on her forearm, that, from this angle, kind of looks like a leaf. There are no others that I detect.
Any scars from her childhood to now? None I can see in this light, but I make a mental note to search her body in the daytime, too, if she lets me.
Any new scuffs or bruises? One. It looks sore, mildly lumpy, and irritated. It’s on her stomach, about two inches away from her belly button.
Her hand moves quickly to cover it up, and I pull my eyes away, pretending I don’t notice, but it’s too late.
A pang of sorrow spoils in my gut. "Sorry, I—"
"Tell me what you want me to do." She changes the subject, taking a step closer to me, pushing me back onto the bed. I’m still fully clothed, my cock aching to be set free. She’s tempting me in ways I’ve never been tempted before. Dipping her head, she hovers her lips next to my ear, her fingers finding whatever buttons remain on my shirt. "Do you want me to take this off you?"
One button.
Two buttons.
Three, and I nod until she opens my shirt completely, leaving my chest visible.
"I thought I was going to be bossing you around," I remind her, my hands clenching fistfuls of the duvet as she pushes my sleeves down my arms.
"Thendo it, Avery. I’m standing here, naked and waiting for you to have your way with me. But I think you talk a big game, because all I see is a man with his hands by his sides, trying his hardest not to touch the woman who is about to become his wife." She kisses the side of my mouth, her lips trailing along my jaw, my neck, chest, and abs as she lowers herself. She’s undoing my belt, and in turn, causing the undoing of me, but she doesn’t sink to her knees. And even if she tried to, I wouldn’t let her. "The man who, all night, resisted the urge to touch me, no matter how many times I begged him to." She bends one knee, readying to kneel on the floor before me, but I stop her mid movement.
As badly as I want this night to be about her, I don’t think she’s going to let it. I have a feeling she’s going to bejustas greedy as I know I’ll be.
Hearing the sound of Olive Herring come because of me will be like my birthday and Christmas all in one.
"Once I do this, Olive—"
"Then do it." It’s a whisper, but it’s filled with every single thing I need from her.
Need.
Want.
Desire.
My hand cups her cheek, her hair falling down my forearm as her lips crush against mine. The warmth of her naked body is radiating into my skin as she lingers in front of me, but I tug her closer, making her straddle my lap.
A groan slips up her throat, her fingers intertwining at the nape of my neck as her hips buck against me. "Take it out," I tellher, and she pulls away from our kiss. "Get on your knees and take my cock out, Songbird."
She slips off me, sinking to the ground when her hands find the waistband of my pants, fingers working the zip and button slowly until her grip is locked firmly around the base of me.
"Fuck," I murmur, my low voice sending vibrations through my chest as it continues to rise and fall. Her eyes shimmer with mischief while one hand strokes me base to tip, her free hand gliding between her legs. I see the gold specks in her eyes before she rolls them back, enjoying the way her hand feels against herself.
