Page 110 of When In Doubt

“Can I take this off?” he asks softly, his rough hands tracing the outside of my knees, thumbs rubbing just under the hem of my dress.

I think I might die if he doesn’t.

I nod, and his head drops for a second as he sighs, a sound of total reverence that makes my belly flip. He slowly pushes up my skirt, inch by careful inch, watching my face for any sign of hesitation, until it’s bunched around my waist.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Freya.”

His fingers curl under the band of my tights, and it’s enough to make me suck in a breath. Oscar’s brow furrows in question, but when I nod again his gaze falls back to his task, one he appears to be taking very seriously. He slides down my tights, pulling them off one foot, then the other. Never taking his eyes off me, he balls up the fabric and tosses it into the corner of the room.

“God, these thighs.” The words come from somewhere guttural as his hands come back to me, this time touching my skin with nothing between us. A tiny whimper escapes me and he grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

I lose sight of his face when he drops down to place a kiss to my hip, just above the line of my underwear. Suddenly, I feel too hot, my clothes too constricting. My hands move from where they lay limp at my sides to start undoing the buttons at the top of my dress. But before I can get the first one through, Oscar bats my hands away, raising an eyebrow at me in mock-consternation.

“I’ll get to that.” He winks. “Don’t rush me.”

I fist the sheets to stop myself from interfering.

His movements are careful, precise, like he’s been planning this in his head for a long time as he rids me of the rest of my clothes, tossing each item across the room until there are pieces of me strewn all across the floor. “They’re gonna be so wrinkled.”

“I’ll steam them for you tomorrow,” he says as he licks up my calf, eliciting a sigh of pleasure.

“You know how to use a steamer?” I gasp.

“I’m 29 years old, of course I know how to use a fucking steamer.” He lifts his head just enough for me to make out his quirked brow. “Now, do you wanna quiz me on garment care some more, or do you want me to go down on you until you come all over my face?”

My head spins, and I think I might pass out. What is he doing to me?

“Uggghhhh, the second one?” I moan as he sinks his teeth into my upper thigh.

“Yes, ma’am.” His words are muffled by my skin as he edges closer to where I want him the most.

“Can I take these off?” He tugs at the lace hem on the bottom of my underwear and I’m so pleased that I wore a cute set today.

I nod frantically, need overtaking every nerve ending. He groans as he slides them down my legs, pausing to press a kiss over my center. I gasp, practically bucking off the bed as he tosses them aside before moving to my bra and making quick work of that too.

I go to press my thighs together, seeking relief, but I’m stopped by his shoulders positioned between my knees.

“You say stop and we stop, okay?” He checks one final time.

I repeat it back to him and his eyes darken, fingertips pressing harder into my thighs as he maneuvers further down the bed, leaving nips and kisses in his wake.

At the first touch of his tongue, I almost bow off the bed, only held down when his arm comes across my hips, holding me in place. I reach down and tangle our fingers together, needing something to ground me as he works in long strokes, every one lighting me on fire.

It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

It’s everything good in the world.

I don’t ever want him to stop.

I cover my mouth with my free hand to stop myself from making the kind of sound that would have my neighbors talking. Oscar’s not exactly quiet himself, far from it. All I can hear from him are grunts, groans of pleasure, and muffled words spoken against me, ones that feel like they’re vibrating through my veins.

He focuses in on my clit, licking and biting and sucking. I’ve never had anyone go down on me before, I’ve only heard about it, read about it, but I feel transformed. I don’t know how I’ll be able to go on after feeling like this, experiencing this. I want to lock Oscar in this room so we never have to stop, to close my store and make him quit his job, all for this.

My release builds faster than I expect—never in my life have I found it this quickly. But soon it’s washing over me in waves and my attempts to keep the sounds at bay disintegrate. I’m moaning and writhing under him as he keeps up his movements, not showing any signs of stopping until I’m finally spent, and collapse, limp against the mattress.

When he rises, his mouth is twisted into a smirk as he stares unabashedly at me. As my adrenaline ebbs, I start to become aware of how naked I am in comparison to him, still in his button-down and jeans.

It’s silly, he’s literally just had his head buried in my pussy, but I can’t help the slow tingle of self-consciousness that creeps in at the edge of my thoughts. All the sensations and the endorphins that have been crashing over me start to feel a bit overwhelming. It’s a good kind of overwhelming, but I need a minute to process before we keep going.