He gave a slow, understanding nod, his gaze intense. He didn't say anything else. He shifted his weight, reaching into the darkness beside the bed for a moment before returning his attention to me. He positioned himself between my thighs, his own body trembling with restraint.
He looked down at me, a silent question in his eyes, before he slowly, deliberately pushed himself inside me. I gasped in surprise. He paused, buried deep inside me, his whole body going rigid. His eyes squeezed shut as a low, tortured groan escaped him.
He let me adjust to the feeling of being filled, his hands gripping my hips tightly.
"God, Clara... Relax..." His voice was a raw, strained whisper. "You feel... even better than I dreamed." He opened his eyes, his gaze burning into mine. "Look at me. I want to see your face when I make you mine."
"Oliver..." My eyes darkened. "Do you... love me...?"
He froze, every muscle in his body going still. The question hung in the air, more intimate than any physical touch. His gaze softened, all the lust and heat momentarily replaced by something deep, raw, and vulnerable. He lowered his forehead to rest against mine, his breathing unsteady.
"Yes."
The word was a raw, honest whisper, stripped of all his usual charm.
"God, yes, Clara. So much." He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, his own shining with unshed emotion. "I think I've been falling in love with you since the day we met."
His answer brought me a wave of relief. As I relaxed, he was able to sink even deeper. He let out a sharp, ragged gasp as my body yielded to him, pulling him impossibly deeper. It was the most intense, incredible feeling he had ever known. His eyes squeezed shut, a look of pure, agonizing pleasure on his face.
"Fuck, Clara..." he breathed out, his voice thick with emotion. "That... right there..."
He started to move—slowly at first, withdrawing almost completely before sinking back into me. His rhythm was deliberate and worshipful.
"Is that a yes? Do you... feel the same way?"
"Yes... I feel the same way. I love you."
I smiled at him. He stopped moving completely, his body frozen inside mine. His breath hitched. He pulled back just enough to stare down at me, his eyes wide with disbelief and a powerful, overwhelming wave of emotion. His smooth facade was completely gone, replaced by raw awe and tenderness. He peppered me with soft, reverent kisses—on my temple, my cheek, my jaw.
"God, Clara. That means... a lot to me. Thank you. Tell me if anything hurts. Okay?"
He pulled back, his hands cradling my face as if I were the most fragile thing in the world.
"Okay, I will..." I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and tried to relax.
He watched me for a long moment, his heart aching with tenderness. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, then another to my closed eyelids.
"Just breathe, gorgeous. I've got you."
He moved with painstaking slowness, an inch at a time, giving my body a chance to welcome him fully. He waited until he was completely seated inside me before he spoke, his voice a low, soothing whisper against my ear.
"Are you okay?"
I couldn't say a word; I just nodded once. He took my nod as permission, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding back. He stayed buried deep inside me for a long moment, letting me get used to him.
"You're doing so good, Clara... so perfect."
He finally began to move, his first thrusts incredibly slow and shallow, his rhythm tender and worshipful. His only focus was me.
"Just like this... nice and easy. I'm right here."
I held him tight as he started to move. "Ollie... I, I..."
He tensed at my broken words, his movements pausing instantly. He looked down at me, his eyes full of concern.
"What is it, gorgeous? Am I hurting you?" He leaned down, resting his forehead against mine. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm right here. Just let it happen. Let me feel it with you."
"Ahh... I can't hold it back anymore..." My grip tightened as my legs shuddered.
He groaned softly, a sound of pure adoration. He quickened his pace just slightly, his thrusts becoming a little deeper, firmer, wanting to push me over that edge.
"Don't hold back, gorgeous. Let go for me. Come on... I've got you."
"Mmm... Ahh!"
His own breath caught in his throat as I felt the hot flood of my release. It was the most incredible sensation I had ever felt. A low, guttural moan was torn from his own lips as my orgasm triggered his. He drove into me one last time, deep and sure, and with a choked cry of my name, he poured his own release into me, his body shuddering violently as he collapsed, spent, onto my chest.
He stayed there for a long moment, his breathing ragged, his heart hammering against mine. He looked too overwhelmed to speak. He just held me, stroking my hair, pressing soft, shaky kisses into my shoulder. Finally, he lifted his head, his face slick with sweat, his eyes shining with pure love.
"Clara..." He whispered, his voice thick and raw. "That was... you are... everything."
I was breathless. "Gosh, that was amazing..."
He let out a shaky, breathless laugh. He lifted his head just enough to look at me, his eyes still hazy with pleasure and adoration.
"Amazing?" He gently brushed a damp strand of hair off my forehead, his touch reverent. "It was... perfect."
He shifted his weight off me, unwilling to let me go completely. He settled onto his side, pulling me into his arms and tucking me against his chest, wrapping the bedsheets around us both.
"You were perfect. I love you so much, Clara."
I could hear his words, but sleep claimed me instantly.
The next day, I woke up against his chest.
"... Ollie?"
He stirred at the sound of my voice, a low, sleepy murmur rumbling in his chest. His arms, which had been wrapped around me all night, instinctively tightened, pulling me closer. Finally, he opened his eyes slowly, a soft, dopey grin spreading across his face.
"Morning, gorgeous." His voice was a low, gravelly rasp, thick with sleep. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Yes, and no... Everything's sore," I chuckled.
A low, rumbling chuckle vibrated through his chest. He winced in mock sympathy, though his eyes were dancing with possessive pride. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head.
"Sore, huh? Is that my fault?" He shifted slightly, his hand moving to my lower back, rubbing gentle circles there. "Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away. Maybe I should kiss it and make it better?"
"You..." I playfully punched his chest. "Did you sleep well?"
He grunted softly when I hit him, but his grin only widened. He caught my hand and brought my knuckles to his lips for a soft kiss.
"Best sleep of my life." He said it without a trace of hesitation. "Had everything I've ever wanted right here in my arms."
He yawned, stretching his free arm above his head. "What time is it? I should probably make you some breakfast before your brother realizes you're missing."
I reached for my phone and checked the screen. My heart nearly stopped.
"It's ten... Wait, Jake called me seven times!"