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“What are—” His hurried words die on his tongue when the warm yellow glow of the lamp fills the room.
Turning to face him, my breath catches at the way his usually light hazel eyes darken and simmer. His hungry gaze dips to trace every line, curve, and valley of my body.
“Dammit, Tyler, look at you…” His long fingers curl around the nape of my neck, and he possessively drags me up to meet his lips.
The fire of want for this man rages hot, nearly uncontrollable, inside me. While I’m getting off on his unabashed appreciation of my body, a small part of me suddenly feels self-conscious. The gym was pitch black, and even on the balcony, the night sky was all we had to light our adventures. Suddenly I’m very aware of just how much of me—every inch—he can see.
Sure, he’s naked too, and with that, it would appear we’re on equal footing. Except Oliver is masculine perfection. Broad shoulders, defined muscles, narrow waist, and magnificent cock. Not to mention his kind heart, wicked sense of humor, and sharp mind. This man is all that and then some.
As if he can read my mind, he gifts me a rakish smile and shakes his head, tsking out loud. His full weight presses into me and it’s glorious. “Pardon me for stating the obvious. Wren, you’re gorgeous. Sexy as sin.”
With one swift pull, our chests collide and his mouth covers mine. Every dart of his tongue and tease of his teeth, scraping my lower lip, makes quick work of erasing any and all of my doubts.
Unmistakably done with conversation, Oliver rolls us until I’m on top. He positions me on his lap, straddling him, as he resumes his torturous exploration of my mouth. Every swipe of his tongue, press of his lips, urges me to kiss back, to take and to feast on him.
Large, warm hands grab my ass, grasping hard and strong as I rock on his long, thick erection. He makes me pant and moan for more when his mouth and tongue move from my mouth to kiss, stroke, and suck on one nipple and then the other.
I love the way he touches me, like I’m to be cherished and worshipped, like he can’t get enough of me.
Oliver breaks contact just far enough to whisper against my lips, “Tyler, I’ve missed you.”
A giggle sails past my sure-to-be swollen lips. “You’ve already said that.”
“Yeah. Our time apart has felt like years.” He dips a hand between my thighs.
Shamelessly, I widen my stance, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his legs to give him better access. He finds me hot and wet before even parting my folds.
“What about you, Tyler?” His fingers glide through my arousal and stop short of where I need him.
My chest heaves, gaze fixed on his immobile hand. His fingers perch over my swollen clit, teasing in their promise.
“What about me?”
He chuckles at the desperation in my voice.
“Tell me, did you miss me?” The hint of vulnerability in his voice hits.
He’s trying to be playful and sexy, but his question is a real one.
A real need.
Why didn’t I tell him sooner?
“God, Oliver, of course I missed you.”
He smiles, the tight lines around his eyes softening and fading. He kisses me and gently nudges my clit. But it’s featherlight and over way too fast. His fingers are now motionless and not where they should be.
“Oliver.” My nails dig into his shoulder, hips rocking, trying to get him where I want him. He only chuckles, evading any connection.
Through his black-as-coal lashes, his gaze flicks up to mine and he wets his lips. “What is it, Wren? What do you want?”
Needy and single-minded, I try to conjure the words. It’s simple really. Tell him what I want.
But I’m operating on basic needs and instincts, not able to think logically. Then his tongue flicks out between his lips, probably for another sweep, and for now I’m distracted by the next shiny thing. Or in this case, wet, pink thing.
I’m quick, all action with no words or sound. I dive in, mouth sucking on the tip of his tongue, thoroughly enjoying his teasing. Two can play this game.
My fingers wrap in a tight fist around his hard cock, stroking his tip fast. His crown pulses, slick with pre-cum, and air catches in his throat. His incapacitation does something to me, and like the biting point of a knife, my world shrinks to a single purpose.
