“I feel like I’m opening a gift,” he says, using both hands to pull down my jeans. “I knew there’d be something beautiful underneath these.” Oliver crouches onto his haunches and works to free my legs from the tight fabric, throwing them over his shoulder. He runs the back of his hand over my cock, hidden behind a pair of lace shorts the same shade of blue as the bralette I’m wearing. “I could look at you all day.” His touch on my covered cock has me painfully hard and desperately needy.
“Please don’t,” I beg, my hands once again in his hair, using my grip to guide his face to my cock. “I need you now, Ollie. Please.”
Oliver opens his mouth and I gasp at the warmth that laves over my cock through the fabric of my shorts. He sucks at it until it’s wet, spit shining around his mouth when he looks up at me. There are no words for what I’m feeling right now as I look into his eyes and see nothing but desire tinted with adoration on a level I’ve never experienced.
This isn’t just sex. Not to him and not to me. It’s something so much more, and while my body is begging for the high of a climax, I also know I don’t want it to end.
Oliver grins, his eyes on me as he uses one hand to pull the lacy fabric of my underwear below my balls, while the other ventures around and settles on my ass.
“You have no idea how badly I want this,” Oliver says, his thumb wiping a bead of pre-cum down my shaft.
“Me...me too,” I rasp, whimpering when he leans forward and sucks the head of my cock into his mouth, his tongue toying with my slit. My legs tremble, and I’m grateful for the solid wall of glass behind me. Oliver uses one hand to hold the base of my cock, while his other sneaks beneath the fabric of my underwear, fingers dancing along my crease. I’m watching him intently, my eyes fixed on the way his lips are stretched around my shaft, inch by inch, disappearing into his mouth. The hand he has on my ass edges further between my cheeks until his finger sweeps over my entrance.
I thrust my hips forward, then back, trying to encourage him to press inside. Oliver looks up at me, his eyes lust drunk, his finger firmly over my hole. I nod, giving him the permission he’s seeking, but instead of pushing it inside, he removes his hand completely. I whine, but before I can say anything, he’s on his feet, his mouth crashing into mine, our tongues vying for control. When he pulls back, Oliver replaces his tongue with two fingers, pressing them into my mouth.
“Get them wet,” he orders, and I do, sucking and licking, tasting the salt on his skin. It’s a heady experience, the way he pushes them into my throat, before twisting and rubbing them against my inner cheek. When Oliver’s satisfied, he pulls his fingers out, then slants his mouth over mine in the most feral kiss I’ve ever experienced. His tongue fucks into my mouth with a reckless abandon that has my balls drawing tight.
“Spread your legs,” he mumbles into my mouth. He uses his foot to kick my legs apart and then he’s sinking to his knees, his spit slicked finger teasing my hole. My body is a live wire of sensation, sweat coating my skin, my heart thudding out of control, and when Oliver’s mouth engulfs my shaft at the same time his finger presses past the tight ring of muscle, I cry outand lose myself. My hips work on their own accord, fucking into his mouth and pushing back onto his finger in hungry, uncoordinated movements.
“Ollie. Don’t stop.” He adds a hand to my shaft, twisting as he sucks, while also pushing a second finger into my tight hole. There’s a slight burn that fades as quickly as it arrived. I’m so close to the edge, I can’t think, I can only feel and chase the pleasure building like an inferno in my blood. “Gonna come,” I warn, but he doesn’t pull away, and when he twists his hand and his fingers brush my prostate, it’s game over. The edge is there and then I’m flying over it, free falling as my orgasm blasts out of me. And still he doesn’t stop or slow down. He fucks me with his fingers and he worships my cock and all I can do is whimper and thrash against the glass as he wrings every last ounce of pleasure from me.
When Oliver finally relents, sitting back on his heels, I fall to my knees and throw myself into his arms, kissing him hungrily, tasting the evidence of my desire on his tongue.
“Stand up,” he orders, breaking the kiss. “Turn around.” I do as he says, facing the sparkling lights of the city below me. Oliver pulls my shirt off my shoulders and presses his chest to my back. He’s removed his shirt too, and his skin is scorching hot against mine. There’s the sound of a zip and moments later, I feel the soft skin of his cock against my ass. Oliver’s hands map patterns along my arms before he laces our fingers together and lifts them up.
“Put your hands on the glass and stick out your ass.” He moves his hands down my sides, until he has one on each hip, his thumbs pressed to my lower back.
“I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw these sexy as fuck dimples.”
I’m shorter than him, so he must have to spread his legs to get the angle right as his cock slides between my crease. He holds a hand open in front of my mouth. “Spit.”
I spit into his waiting palm and then look over my shoulder, watching as he uses it to slick his cock, jerking himself over my lower back. His free hand never stops touching me. Squeezing my hip, mapping the curve of my spine, caressing my ass cheek, then pulling it to the side to spread me open.
“One day, I’m going to fuck you like this. Pressed to this window for anyone to see if they look up.” He increases his speed, his breathing picking up as Oliver works himself over. “It won’t matter who sees, because you’re all mine. Would you let me, baby? Let me fuck you like you’re mine?”
My cock stirs, ramping up for another round as I nod, my forehead to the glass. “Yes, Ollie. I want that.” And it’s no lie. I want to be his. I want everything with him.
“Say it.”
My mouth is dry, my breath stuttering in and out of my lungs. “I want you to fuck me, Ollie. To be yours.”
Oliver shifts, then lets out a guttural groan, his hand on my hip tightening as hot pulses of cum hit my skin. For a moment, the only sounds in the room are our heavy breaths and the slick of his hand as he wrings out the last drops of his release.
“Fuck, my cum looks so good in your dimples.” His hands slide along my back, spreading his cum over my skin. When he’s content that my entire lower back is covered in him, Oliver guides me back with a hand around my upper body. His fingers trace my lips until I open and suck the remainder of his release from them.
Sated, I lean my weight in his arms as he carefully turns me around, and with his lips on mine, and two hands beneath my ass, he lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist and we kiss as Oliver walks us backwards until he’s lowering onto the sofa.
I stay on his lap, our mouths hovering together until my eyes feel heavy and I let my head flop to his shoulder.
“Is this a bad time to tell you the glass on the window is reflective from the outside?”
He chuckles. “The thought is hot, though.” He kisses my forehead. “You’re so perfect, angel.” Oliver’s voice is soft and warm and I close my eyes and press myself a little harder into his hold.
“So are you, my love.”
I don’t miss the way his body reacts to that word. A momentary tightening of his muscles before he melts into the sofa, me on top of him and his arms a vise around my waist, as if he plans to never let me go.
Chapter 17
