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CHAPTER 22
They didn’t hold hands or touch on the way back. They walked sedately an arm’s width apart across the polished marble floor of the apartment entrance, past Graham, the concierge.
“Goodnight, Graham,” Oliver said with a nod.
“Goodnight, Graham,” Felicity added with a smile.
“Goodnight to you both.” Graham gave a cheery wave and went back to watching his screen.
Only when the lift doors closed did they look at each other, and clearly came to the same conclusion. They fell on each other, kissing crazily—kisses that tasted of tabouleh and orange Fanta. When they got inside the apartment, her blouse was already undone. Oliver took one hungry look at her lacy bra and dived his head into her breasts with a strangled, “Oh god, I’ve missed these.”
“It’s only been three days,” she giggled.
“I know. I think you’ve cast a spell on me.”
“Is that why you asked me to stay? Because of my nice tits?”
When he raised his head, his eyes were glazed. “Can I give you an answer later? I don’t seem to be able to think straight.”
She loved that she drove him crazy with lust. She loved the way his hair was all roughed up and his lips were bruised with desire. That his eyes burned. For her.
Another second and all thoughts were gone as his mouth closed over hers again and molten honey ran through her veins. She felt the ridge of his cock hard on her belly, a sudden shoot of pain up her leg as he pressed his thigh a little hard into her. She let out a small yelp and shifted, and immediately he moved away. “Did I hurt you?”
“Just a little.”
“I’m sorry, I’m being too rough. I—I just can’t seem to get close enough.”
Her lips tipped into a smile “We can fix that.” And she took hold of his arm and tugged him towards the guest room. When she turned the lights on it was all too sparse, too clinical, so she switched them off and instead they helped shed each other’s clothes with only the lights of Bondi for company.
In the shadows she could smell him more, taste him more, feel him more.
As they moved together, naked finally, she revelled in the ripple of his muscles under her fingers, the deep grunts of pleasure as he took one nipple, then the other in his mouth and she gripped his hair maybe a little hard. They both laughed as he pulled his mouth away with a loud slurp.
And now he stood in front of her with his cock in his fisted hand and watched her gather the pillows and sit herself right there, atop them on the edge of the bed, her thighs falling wide, beckoning him close.
He prowled forward, leaned in and kissed her passionately, then manoeuvred the head of his cock to her sex. “I can’t tell you how much I want to do this,” he growled, circling the swollen tip around her clit. With a long moan of pleasure, she lifted her hips to meet him.
It felt so, so good…
And now he was rubbing the head of his cock up and down her cleft, mingling his moisture with hers. Until he was nudging right at her entrance. He did it again and again, the rhythm building for both of them to a fever pitch.
Close, closer…Oh.As she watched the wonderful display, her body teetered on the edge of release.
Suddenly he pulled back. “We should use a condom.”
Of course they should, even though her body screamed for him to never stop. She bit her lip, nodded. In no time he’d sheathed himself and the touch of him at her entrance once more made her almost sob with want. She begged in a hoarse whisper, “Inside me, please,” and he nodded, eyes dark with lust. That first thrust must have hit her G spot because she contracted tight around him, the intensity tossing her towards heaven as his thrusts deepened, sped up.
Oliver’s strong hands spread around her buttocks, holding her steady and all the time his eyes stayed locked with hers.
He gritted out, “Take what you need, lover, I’m all yours.”
Her internal muscles clenched hard around him. “And—I’m—yours.” Her hands gripped his shoulders as he pounded into her. “Oh. Now. Fuck. Yesssssss, yessss, Oliver.” As her orgasm ripped through her, she heard him shout her name as his release chased hers.
Afterwards, when they’d finally untangled and got themselves into a more comfortable position on the bed, Oliver whispered in her ear, “I’m going to stay in this room with you.”
“Really?” She held her breath, trying not to read anything too deep into that statement or, for that matter, the words they’d shouted as they came.
“I have dreams. Bad dreams.” He stroked her hair, his chin resting on her crown. “When I’m with you I don’t have those dreams. At least, not…” She sensed the smile in his voice. “Notthattype of dream.”
