A dark smile spread across his lips as he released my wrists. One of his hands slid down, the heat of his palm searing through the fabric of my oversized t shirt dress. He found the hem and began to slide it up, his touch exploring my waist.
"Ah..." A soft gasp escaped my lips before I could stop it. The hem of my dress had ridden up to my waist, leaving me completely exposed to his gaze. He gently brushed his fingers along the curve of my hip, the contact sending a violent shiver down my spine.
I reached up, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck to pull him even closer. He focused on the sensitive skin of my sides, his touch firm yet agonizingly slow, while his kisses deepened, turning hungry and desperate.
"Mmm..." The sound of my gasp was like fuel to a fire. His eyes, already dark with lust, burned even hotter. He broke the kiss, trailing a hot, open mouthed path down my jaw to the sensitive spot just below my ear. He sucked gently, claiming my skin and leaving a mark.
"That's it... make those sounds for me," he murmured against my skin, his voice thick and raw. "I want to hear you."
His hand left my side and slid higher, his palm cupping my breast over the thin fabric of my bra. He squeezed firmly, his thumb teasing my nipple into a hard peak through the material. A low groan rumbled in his chest, vibrating against my own.
"So responsive... so perfect. Tell me you want this, Clara. I need to hear you say it."
He lifted his head just enough to look me in the eyes, his own gaze a storm of raw need. His hips pressed down against mine, rocking slowly, letting me feel the heavy, hard length of him through our clothes. He was waiting, demanding my submission.
I reached up, my fingers tangling in his hair and pulling his head back down so his lips were mere inches from mine. I didn't want to just ask. I wanted to rule him.
"Don't make me wait, Ollie," I commanded, my voice steady despite the fire consuming me. "Stop talking and take me to heaven. Now."
The effect was instantaneous. A low, predatory growl ripped from his throat, and the last shred of his restraint snapped.
"Your wish is my command, princess," he rasped against my lips.
In one fluid motion, he gripped the hem of my t shirt dress and pulled it over my head, tossing it somewhere across the room. He didn't care about the promise anymore. He didn't care about Jake. He only cared about the girl beneath him who had just given him permission to lose control.
He stared down at me for a beat, taking in the sight of me in just my bra and panties. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. Then, a slow, wolfish grin spread across his face, full of raw possession and hunger.
"There she is... my beautiful girl."
He lowered himself again, but this time he didn't kiss me. He trailed his lips down my neck, over my collarbone, stopping to lavish attention on the swell of my breasts above the lace of my bra. He kissed and licked and nibbled a hot path across my skin, making my arch into his touch.
"You feel so good... so soft..." he murmured, his hands sliding down my sides, thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just above my hipbones.
He continued his journey downward, planting open mouthed kisses on my stomach. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my panties, his gaze lifting to meet mine—questioning, yet demanding.
"Can I?" he asked, his voice strained, already knowing the answer. His fingers tugged gently at the lace, waiting for me to give him that final, ultimate permission.
I nodded once, my breath hitching as I stared back into his burning eyes. I didn't look away, not even for a second.
Watching me the whole time, he let out a jagged breath and slowly slid my panties down my legs. He swallowed hard, his eyes dark with a mixture of reverence and raw, unfiltered hunger. There was no turning back now—and neither of us wanted to.
He tossed my panties aside, leaving me completely bare beneath him. He knelt between my legs, his hands resting on my thighs, his thumbs stroking the soft skin there in slow, dizzying circles. He just... stared. His gaze was intense, burning a trail over every inch of my exposed flesh with a look of pure, raw worship.
"Fuck, Clara..." he breathed, his voice rough and shaky. He looked back up into my eyes, his own filled with an emotion so potent it stole the air from my lungs. "You're... you're perfect."
Slowly, reverently, he leaned forward. He started at my ankles, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses up the length of one leg, then the other. He was taking his time, driving me slowly, deliciously insane. He kissed the insides of my knees, my inner thighs, his hands gripping my waist to hold me steady as I began to tremble.
Finally, he reached the very heart of me. He didn't touch me with his hands—not yet. He lowered his head and breathed me in, his hot, shuddering breath sending a jolt through my entire body. He looked up at me one last time, his expression an offering, before his mouth finally found me.
The world exploded. There was no gentle introduction. His mouth was hot, confident, and ravenous. He feasted on me like a starving man, his tongue working a wicked, expert magic. He knew exactly what he was doing. Every lick and every suckle was designed to drive me over the edge. A jagged groan ripped from his throat as my hips instinctively arched off the bed, my fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. He complied eagerly, increasing the intensity, one hand sliding down to press against my lower stomach, holding me firmly against him as he chased my release with increasing desperation.
"Haa..." My head pushed back into the pillow, a broken whimper escaping me as his tongue found that perfect spot. The world blurred at the edges, my entire existence narrowing down to the incredible pleasure he was centering on me.
I couldn't hold back anymore. With a sharp, gasping cry, I finally shattered. A white hot wave of release crashed over me, pulsing through my body in violent, beautiful tremors. I felt the heat of my own climax as it overwhelmed us both, the intensity leaving me completely breathless and spent.
Oliver didn't pull away. He stayed right there, embracing the aftermath of my release, his hands tightening on my thighs as if to ground me while I drifted somewhere between heaven and earth.
He finally looked up, his face flushed and his lips glistening, a dark, triumphant look in his eyes. He leaned over me, bracing himself on his elbows, and whispered against my swollen lips, "Beautiful. Absolutely perfect."
He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my lips, letting me taste myself on him—a heady, intimate reminder of what he'd just done to me. Then he shifted his weight, propping himself up on his elbows so he could look down at me properly. He brushed a few damp strands of hair from my forehead, his expression one of deep, almost feral satisfaction.
"Was that good, princess? Was it worth the wait?" His voice was smug, triumphant, but also laced with genuine curiosity and a raw need for my approval.
"Good? It was perfect," I breathed, still panting as my heart tried to find its rhythm again.
His gaze dropped from my eyes to my lips, still slightly swollen from his kiss, then lower, over the heaving rise and fall of my chest. He licked his own lips, his eyes darkening to a near black as they followed the path his mouth had just taken.
The playfulness was gone, replaced by a hunger that made me tremble all over again.
"My turn."