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“If I needed a shield, Charlotte, it was from you. I’ve spent half the night wanting you.”
My brain hiccups. “Really?”
He groans and releases me. “Yes, really. Do you want me to show you proof?” He nods toward his groin. I’m sure he’s just saying that to let out his frustration, but I look.
“Jesus, don’t look. I should go.” He turns away.
“Oliver?”
He stops and slowly turns.
“What happens if you don’t behave? I mean, what are the ramifications?”
He looks down. “I’m supposed to improve my image.”
My ego likes the idea that I’m a woman that could ruin his image. My body is so hot now. I’m sure he can see my distended nipples through my shirt.
“Who would know?” I ask.
He lets out a shuddering breath. “I’m not good with temptation, Charlotte.”
“I’m not tempting you, Oliver. I’m inviting you in.”
For a moment, I think he will leave, which will crush my ego, but perhaps it would be for the best. But in the next instant, he’s pulled my body flush against his, his lips are on mine, and fireworks are blasting in my brain.
Somehow, we open the door, and he’s half-carrying, half–drawling me to my bedroom. I’ve never done anything like this before, so I’m both nervous and excited. If he has a reputation as a ladies’ man, he’s had a lot of experience at this, and I’m worried I won’t please him.
Standing by my bed, he gets my shirt undone and yanks it off, his hands molding my breasts and tweaking my nipples, making me gasp. He expertly undoes my bra, then his mouth is on my nipples, sucking and biting, and holy moly... I grip his head to hold him there, so he never stops. His mouth feasts on me as his fingers undo my jeans.
“These jeans have been driving me crazy all night,” he says as he pulls them down my legs.
“Really?” I’ve never thought I was ugly, but I’ve never seen myself as driving a man crazy.
“Yes, really.”
Soon I’m naked, but he isn’t. I reach for his shirt. “I’m feeling vulnerable here.”
He nods and helps me undress him. He’s exactly what I thought he’d be but more. His chest is broad and chiseled, and I run my hands over the strong lines.
“You know, if you were ugly and gangly, you wouldn’t have this image problem,” I say as I lean into him and lick his nipple.
He hisses out a breath. “It’s been a curse.” He hauls me up, and then we lay back on the bed, where he resumes immersing himself in my breasts.
“You’re a breast man?”
He laughs against my nipple, which sends ripples through my body. “I like tits. I especially like perfect, nature-made ones.”
Did he just say my breasts were perfect?
“Round. Soft. Responsive,” he says, studying my breast as he holds it and then sucks the nipple again. My center is on fire, and I need him in me now. I reach between us to encourage him and wrap my hand around his dick.
He groans, and I swear I can feel it lengthen and thicken in my hand.
“Fuck. I can’t wait,” he hisses.
“Good. Neither can I.”
“Oh shit.” He stops, going limp over me.
