Page 84 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

He reaches up and pulls my face to his, kissing me passionately. I’m caught up in playing with his hair when he slips his hands under the back of my hoodie, drawing me down against him. He begins to slide it up, and I shimmy to the side so he can pull it off.

I’m wearing a lacy black bra, which seems to capture his attention. He slips his hand under one cup and thrums a finger over my nipple, then slides both straps down my shoulders and peels the cups away from my breasts. My nipples immediately peak, and he seems to take that as a challenge. He licks each one, then alternates pulling each breast more fully into his mouth.

I’m struggling to maintain, straddling him while he devours me. I think I might involuntarily grind my hips against him a few times before I even realize I’m doing it.

“You like that, Ivy?” he asks, grinning at me from around the nipple he’s currently licking.

I moan in pleasure rather than respond with words. What use are words in times like these, anyway?

He unhooks my bra and tosses it aside as I skim my fingers under the waistband of his pants, wanting more. Needing him in every way. He reaches for my hands and helps me slide the sweats down his hips. I run my fingers down the length of him as he springs free. It hadn’t occurred to me he’d be naked underneath the pants, but I realize then I obviously didn’t have dry underwear to give him.

“God, Ivy,” he moans. I laugh greedily. I could definitely get used to being with him like this.

I move my lips to his hips and lower, taking him in my mouth. His eyelids flutter shut, and he groans, deep and almost inhuman. “You don’t have to,” he manages.

“I want to.” And I do. This wasn’t something I did with Kyle very often; sex was perfunctory and pleasurable, but it never felt like an activity in its own right. It was more a means to an end. But with Oliver? I want to take my time.

Oliver lets me ravish him for a few minutes, then he sits up and kisses my forehead. “Okay. My turn.”

I slide out of my pants and lie down next to him. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. Being completely naked with Oliver is one of the most erotic things I’ve ever experienced. I guess there’s something to that enemies-to-lovers trope after all. Seems like constantly bickering with someone is the best way to build sexual tension.

We get lost in each other again, kissing, touching, letting the world fall further and further away. When he lifts my knee and positions his face between my thighs, I think I’m going to die from the pleasure. And he hasn’t even started yet.

I’m pretty sure I go to another plane entirely while he works otherworldly magic with his tongue. This is insane, what he’s doing, how he’s making me feel. It doesn’t take me long to slip over the edge, my body finding its epiphany against his mouth.

“More,” I say, pulling him up to me and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He looks oddly sheepish. “I don’t have anything. I wasn’t exactly expecting…”

Of course. And I don’t have anything, either, because I was pretty sure the chances of me getting lucky this summer were about zero. I think quickly. “I bet Laurel has something. Hold on.” I hop off the bed and grab the candle, then cross to Laurel’s room at the end of the hallway. She’s much more worldly than I am, but I know she’s responsible. I’m guessing she didn’t go to Porter’s house empty-handed last week, and I think she’d be supportive of my stealing condoms from her, given the circumstances.

“She emerges victorious,” I say a minute later, coming back to my room and shutting the door behind me. I toss the condom I found in Laurel’s toiletry bag onto the bed and set the candle back on my dresser.

Oliver’s giving me a strange look. “Why did you shut the door?”

I laugh louder than I mean to when I realize the absurdity of shutting the door in an empty house. “I have no idea. To keep out the ghosts that Laurel’s talking to all the time, maybe.”

He snorts. “Can’t say I blame you there.”

I hop back into bed and rub up against him. “Sorry for the interruption.”

“I missed you,” he murmurs against my lips.

“I was only gone for a minute,” I tease.

“I missed you regardless.”

God, the smiles are nonstop today. “Where was this charming behavior at Shoreline?”

“I’m always charming.” His mouth tips up roguishly as his hands slide to my waist. He hauls me against him and starts playing a very dangerous game with his fingers between my thighs.

“Hmm,” I say, feeling myself slipping away thanks to what he’s doing with his hands. “Because sometimes, it seemed like you were being a little bit…difficult.” It’s an effort to get words out at this point.

His eyes glint in the darkness. “When have I ever been difficult?” He plunges two fingers inside me.

I gasp, despite my best efforts to hold it together. “Okay, now you’re being very accommodating.”

His chuckle is low in his throat. “That’s what I thought.”