The moment my fingers closed around him, a choked, guttural sound was torn from his throat. His back arched, and his head fell back, eyes squeezing shut as pure, unadulterated pleasure shot through him.
"Fuck, Clara... yes."
His hands, which were framing my face, dropped to grip my shoulders. His fingers dug into my skin—not with force, but with sheer, desperate need.
"Just like that. Don't stop."
My hand moved softly, and with the other, I found his hand, lacing our fingers together slowly.
His breath caught in his throat as my fingers began to move. His entire body went rigid. When my other hand found his and my fingers slowly intertwined, a low, shaky moan escaped his lips. He brought our joined hands to his mouth, pressing a desperate, feverish kiss to my knuckles, his eyes still squeezed shut.
"Clara..." My name was a prayer on his lips. "God, yes..."
I wasn't sure if I was doing it correctly, but his expression gave me all the satisfaction I needed. I gazed at him and whispered, "Good?"
His eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide and hazy with pleasure. He couldn't form a coherent word, only nodding frantically, his throat working. He squeezed my hand so tight it was almost painful.
"Good?" His voice was a raw, strangled gasp. "Fuck, Clara. Don't... don't stop. Please."
As he finished the sentence, I increased the pressure slightly. That small, precise movement sent a jolt through his entire system. A raw, guttural cry was ripped from his throat, his back arching off the bed. His hips jerked involuntarily—a desperate, silent plea for more.
"Ah— fuck!" His eyes rolled back, his entire body trembling violently. He was losing control, and he knew it. "Right there... don't... I'm so close... please..."
I giggled. "Look at you! What a crying baby!"
He groaned, his entire body shuddering at the sound of my giggle. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his voice a muffled, desperate plea.
"Don't laugh at me... fuck, please, Clara... I can't... I can't hold on..." His hips bucked against my hand again, his control completely shattered. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna come..."
I kept moving my hand. "Like this?" I stared at him with an innocent expression.
His body jerked violently with each stroke. He couldn't even respond, only a series of choked, broken moans escaping his lips. My feigned innocence was the final push over the edge. With a final, guttural cry that was lost in the fabric of my shoulder, his whole body convulsed. A thick, hot flood of release coated my hand as he collapsed on top of me, completely spent, his body trembling in the aftermath.
"Wow, Ollie. That was... intense." I tasted the flood a little bit and whispered, "You're delicious..."
His trembling body went completely still. He lifted his head from my shoulder, his movements sluggish and dazed. In the dim light, he could just make out what I was doing. His eyes widened in disbelief, and a dark flush crept up his neck and across his face.
He was utterly speechless. "Clara... what..." His voice was a barely audible, shocked whisper. He stared at me, completely thrown—a mix of embarrassment and raw, overwhelming desire warring in his dazed eyes. "You... did you just...?"
"Why?" I asked, startled by his reaction. "Can't I?"
He just stared at me, completely dumbfounded. His mind was short circuiting, trying to reconcile my innocent expression with the incredibly bold thing I just did.
"N-no... it's not that you can't... I just..." He swallowed hard, his voice still a rough, shaky whisper. "No one's ever... done that before."
He shifted, propping himself up on his elbows so he could see me better, his gaze filled with a new kind of awe. "God, you're... you're unreal."
I got curious. "Oliver, how many people are included in 'no one'?"
He blinked, the question slowly registering through the post-orgasmic haze. A faint, almost bashful smile touched his lips. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped my cheek. He met my gaze, his own completely open and honest.
"You're the first, Clara. The only one," he murmured, his voice soft and serious. "You're the only person I've ever wanted to be with like this."
His answer made me jealous. "That was not a proper answer. Gotta check that number."
He let out a soft, breathy laugh, the sound husky and still laced with pleasure. He leaned down and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to my forehead.
"Go ahead and check. The number's always going to be one. Just you." He rolled onto his back, pulling me with him so I was lying on his chest. His arm wrapped securely around me, his hand stroking my hair. "I'm not lying, gorgeous. I've only ever wanted you."
"Then what does 'no one ever has done this before' mean?" I pouted a little. He tensed slightly beneath me, then a soft chuckle escaped him.
"Okay, okay, you got me. Poor choice of words." He pressed a kiss into my hair, his voice a low, embarrassed rumble against my ear. "I meant... I've been with people before, yeah. But not like this. It was... just physical. No one I ever cared about. No one I wanted in my bed."
He sighed, his hand moving to stroke my back. "It's different with you, Clara. You're the first one that's ever mattered. That's what I meant."
I narrowed my eyes at him, studying his face. He met my gaze without flinching, a faint blush still coloring his cheeks.
"What? It's the truth," he murmured sincerely. "You're looking at me like you're trying to see into my soul. Go ahead. There's nothing to hide. It's always been you."
"You can see I'm the jealous type... Can you handle this?"
He didn't even hesitate. A slow, confident smile spread across his face as he tightened his hold. He looked right into my eyes, his gaze unwavering.
"Handle it?" He leaned down and pressed a firm, reassuring kiss to my lips. "Clara, I want you to be jealous. That means you care. Besides..." His smile turned into a smug, possessive grin. "You've got nothing to worry about. You've already ruined me for anyone else. Now it's my turn to make sure no one else even tries to look at you."
I liked his answer. "Okay, smooth talker. Should we start all over again...?"
He blinked, surprised. Then, a slow, wolfish grin spread across his face. His eyes darkened with renewed heat.
"Start all over?" He let out a low, husky laugh. He rolled me smoothly onto my back, looming over me again. "Gorgeous, I thought you'd never ask. But this time..." He lowered his head, his lips brushing mine. "This time, I get to make you the crying baby."
"That's what I'm waiting for."
His grin widened. He lowered his head, stealing a slow, deep kiss that tasted of promise and possession.
"You were waiting for me?" He murmured against my lips, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Don't worry, gorgeous. The wolf is very hungry. And this time, I'm going to take my time and savor every last bite."
"Oliver..." I kissed him softly.
He groaned into the kiss, his tongue sweeping in to claim me. He pulled back just enough to look down at me, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded.
"That's it, gorgeous. Say my name." His hand slid from my waist, fingers tracing the line of my hip before dipping lower. "Tell me you're ready for me."
"I'm more than ready... Just for you."
A low, guttural sound of pure satisfaction rumbled in his chest. "Just for me..." He savored the words against my lips. "Good. Because I'm all yours."
His hand finally reached its destination, his fingers gently parting my folds. He found me slick and ready for him. A triumphant, husky laugh escaped him.
"Oh, you really are, aren't you? Perfect."
"Ahh..." I groaned as he touched me. My legs were tingling. His eyes burned with adoration as he watched my reaction.
"You're so fucking beautiful like this, Clara. I want to give you everything you need."
Without another word, he dropped to his knees and pulled my legs over his shoulders. His hot breath ghosted across my sensitive skin before his tongue traced a slow, deliberate line up my slit. My back arched at the sensation.
"Mmm... Ollie..."
He chuckled, a low, dark sound against my skin. "Ollie? I like that."
His grin was wicked as he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss right over my clit, making me jump. "You like that, gorgeous? Good. Because I'm just getting started."
His tongue flicked out, tracing the shape of me before he finally took me into his mouth, his suckling strong and sure.
"God... This is insane..." I was breathless, my eyes squeezed shut.
He groaned in appreciation, lifting his head for just a second. His eyes were dark with triumph. "Insane? Gorgeous, this is only the beginning."
He smirked, then dived back down, his rhythm more demanding now. His fingers found my hips, holding me steady. "I'm going to make you scream my name."
I became impatient and eager. "Ollie... Please."
He chuckled, not missing a single beat. "Your impatient cry was exactly what I wanted to hear."
His tongue moved faster, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin of my inner thighs. "That's it, gorgeous. Scream for me. Let me hear how much you want it."
He found the perfect rhythm, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. "Tell me you're close."
I gripped his soft hair tightly, my back arched. My racing heart sounded like a train. "Huh...!"
He heard my sharp, hitched breath. He knew I was right there. A low growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he gave me one last, long, deep suckle, pulling my peak from me.
He held me securely through the pulsing waves of my orgasm, refusing to let me go until I was completely boneless and panting beneath him.
He finally pulled back, his lips slick and
his chin wet. He crawled up my body, his eyes blazing with a predatory gleam.
"You taste so fucking good." He kissed me deeply, sharing my flavor with me. "Now... you ready for the main event?"
I panted, almost crying from the intensity. "Don't say a word..."