by Marni Mann
“That’s it, sweet girl.” He pinched my nipple, and I moaned so loud. “Relax into my hand, and I’m going to make you come.”
Everything inside me started to move. My head tilted back against his shoulder and my mouth opened and, “Yesss …” was what poured out.
I knew we were climbing. I knew we were getting closer to the top.
But I couldn’t open my eyes because so was I.
His teeth surrounded my earlobe, and he said, “You just got even wetter.”
Everything inside me was closing in. Tightening. The part of him that circled, the part of him that plunged were both moving faster.
It was taking over me.
In every way.
And then a ripple moved through the bottom of my stomach and went straight up my chest, causing my back to arch. “Oliver!” Another quiver shot through me, and I realized I was there—at that edge.
I knew what it felt like when my fingers took me there, but having him do it was so much more intense that I couldn’t let go. I just held on, stalling in this spot where my entire body was shaking.
“Tell me, Chloe.” His lips were now in the center of my cheek, teeth grazing my skin. “Tell me how good it feels.”
He did something inside me, circling me in a way where he hit a certain spot, and I lost it.
“Oh fuck,” I howled. Shuddering, churning—it was movement in so many directions. Then, he upped his speed and pressure, and I screamed all over again. “Oh my God … this feels … amazing.”
He kept his mouth on the side of my face, watching each wave pass through me as his hand ground out my orgasm. And I could do nothing but experience the ride he took me on, the way it grabbed ahold of me and wouldn’t let go, even after my body stopped convulsing.
He sensed when it was time to slow and gradually slid out of me, his lips now kissing my cheek. “That was fucking beautiful.”
My eyes closed again, and all I could do was moan in response.
Eight
“You’d better have so much to tell me that you don’t even know where to start,” Molly said when she answered my call, the background filled with music, making it hard for me to hear her.
“Where are you?”
“Julia’s. Give me one sec.” It sounded like a door closed, and then, “There’s a few of us hanging out, but I just went into her room for privacy. Spill it, woman. I’ve been dying for you to call.”
Home.
My friends.
Things I hadn’t thought about since the moment Oliver picked me up at my dorm.
As I paced my small room, I told her about my evening with Oliver and how it had ended a few minutes ago outside my building once he walked me home from the Eye.
“A finger fucking master,” she said when I finished my story. “I’m obsessed with him already. Marry him.”
I laughed, tossing two textbooks into my bag, and zipped the compartment shut. “I knew you would be.”
“Too bad you guys didn’t have more time together.”
Because I had agreed to our date without checking my schedule, I hadn’t realized I had a study group that I couldn’t miss, so I was only able to give Oliver a few hours. That was why we hadn’t gone for dinner or to a pub after.
“Trust me, I feel the same.”
“Doesn’t matter. You had one hell of a night … and I absolutely love what he’s doing to you.”
I was grabbing my keys off the desk when I stopped and smiled. My cheeks started to warm as though his hands were on them again. “We were in a glass bubble for the entire world to see, and I gave no fucks. The real question is, what is this guy doing to me?”
She groaned in a way that told me she approved, and then several seconds of silence passed before she said, “Are you ready for this, Chloe?”
I knew she wasn’t trying to make me second-guess myself. As my best friend, she was just making sure I was all right. And right now, I appreciated that more than ever.
I left the keys on my desk and sat on the end of my bed, taking a few deep breaths before I answered, “Yes, I’m ready.” I paused, and it all came flooding back to me. “Molly, he never made me feel like my lack of experience was a weakness. He just took control and knew exactly what I needed and wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted from me.”
“Jesus … I think I just came.”
I laughed, shaking my head before my voice turned soft. “He’s made it easy for me to be ready for this.”
“As your best friend, who’s way too far away to kick his ass, you have no idea how happy that makes me.” Before I could comment, she asked, “When’s the next date with him?”
“Not sure, but I’ll see him tomorrow in class.” I pushed myself off the bed and went back over to the desk, grabbing the keys. Then, I checked the time on my phone. I was almost twenty minutes late to the study group. Fortunately, it was being held just one floor above me. “I have to go. Call me when you wake up since it’ll be too early there for me to call you with the details.”
“Ugh, time zones can suck it.” I heard the noise in the background, telling me she’d rejoined the girls. “I’m proud of you, you little exhibitionist. Now, go study so you can have round two tomorrow.”
“God, I love you,” I said, and we both hung up.
Nine
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
My skin tickled, and a smile spread over my face as his voice and those words wrapped around the back of my neck, similar to how they had last night, but now, we were in class, and he didn’t sound as growly.
I glanced over my shoulder, meeting the handsome face that I had kissed last night. An evening that had been replaying on repeat in my head, only stopping for the three hours that I’d slept. Then, it’d started right back up the second I woke up.
“Morning,” I replied.
While he searched my face, I took in his beard, recalling the way it had felt on my face when he kissed me. I glanced at the collar of his light-blue shirt that was almost the same color as his eyes, imagining how sensual the scent would be this early. His hands were on top of his desk, and the second I connected with them, I felt my entire body blush.
“You look tired. Up all night, studying?”
I slowly found his eyes again and nodded. “It was a very late one. How did you sleep?”
“I went to bed, smelling you.” His eyelids narrowed, and a shudder erupted in my stomach. “It was the perfect evening.”
I’d kept my scarf on since it was chilly in the classroom, but I began to loosen it, my body heating to the point where I was sweating.
The thought of my wetness drying on his hand, of him smelling me—it was too much. But he wanted me to think about it—I could tell that by the smile on his face and the flirt on his lips and the desire that was pouring from his stare.
It was obvious he knew what he was doing to me, and he was enjoying it.
And I wanted more—more of his attention, time, and certainly more of his fingers.
“How many of you have read the assignment?” the professor said from the front of the class, signaling it was time for me to turn around.
I gave Oliver a smile, taking in the one he returned, and I faced the front. Now that I was straight ahead, I immediately felt his stare on my shoulders and back and on the center of my neck, the same spot he had licked last night.
The last time I’d been in this seat, before his hands even touched me, I hadn’t taken a single note because my mind was on him. Now, my skin was on fire, and I knew there was no way I could concentrate on what the teacher was saying, especially when all I could think about was his fingers. How long they were and what they’d felt like when they were knuckle-deep inside of me.
I knew it was pointless to even take out my laptop.
“If you read,” the professor continued, “you know that, today, we’re going to discuss marketing strategy from a global perspective.”
I was wrapping my arms around my waist, holding my stomach wh
en I felt a change. It was the same shift that had occurred in the pod last night when Oliver walked over to me at the glass wall. When the air warmed and thickened. But this movement only sent me his face, which was close to the back of my ear, and I was captivated by his leathery, masculine scent.
“Tonight,” he whispered, “it’s my tongue’s turn.”
Ten
Oliver made it impossible for me to get lost while walking to his apartment. That was his promise when he sent me directions for our seven o’clock date. Since his place wasn’t far from my dorm, the instructions came as a series of texts that told me where to turn to get there. I found the gesture so much sweeter than a direct link that would just open my Maps app.
After Molly helped me get ready through a video chat and I knew there was nothing else I could possibly do to get myself prepared for tonight, I put on my jacket. Molly had suggested I take an oversize purse that could hold a few essentials in case I ended up spending the night—something I certainly wouldn’t have thought of—so I lifted the bag over my shoulder and headed outside. I wasn’t even down the front steps when I received a text from her.
Molly: Update me.
Me: It’s been, like, 10 mins since I’ve talked to you.
Molly: Well, have you left?
Me: Yes.
Molly: Um, hello? That’s a significant update, I’d say.
Me: LOL. I literally just walked out of my building. I haven’t even gotten through his first direction yet.
Molly: Move those buns, woman.
Me: I’ll text you the second I can escape to the bathroom or die from nerves and call you from a hospital bed. Whichever happens first.
Molly: Just make it to his place in one piece and die after his mouth is on you. Dying before would just be a tragedy on so many levels.
Me: I needed that laugh.
Molly: Love you.
Still holding my phone, I continued following Oliver’s instructions, and it wasn’t long before I was outside a large three-story building. Flowerpots hung out the upper windows, and cute, round arches spanned the whole length of the first floor, making the entrance even more inviting.
I found his name in the call box, pressed the button, and “Come on in, Chloe,” came out of the speaker.
That accent.
Boston would never sound good again, not after I’d heard Oliver say my name.
The door buzzed and unlocked, and by the time I entered the small lobby that the group of townhomes shared, Oliver was opening a door on the other side.
Our eyes locked, and it became so difficult for me to breathe.
My God. That man was sexy, dressed in a sweater and jeans and bare feet—an outfit that was so casual, unlike his stare.
“Gorgeous,” he breathed as I approached, his eyes taking me all in, his lips eventually doing the same when they softly pressed against mine.
I could smell the shower he had recently taken, the cologne he had put on after, and the detergent from his clothes. I didn’t know how scents could have such an effect on me, but everything I was taking in was only adding to the tingles that were pulsing through me.
When he pulled his lips away, I reached into my bag, took out the box, and handed it to him.
“What’s this?”
I smiled, knowing my cheeks were as red as my mouth. “I had to bring something even though you told me not to. I saw these, and they looked delicious.”
And because it hadn’t felt right to show up empty-handed when he invited me over for dinner, I’d made a special trip to the bakery after class.
He took the box from my hand and leaned forward, his mouth going to my cheek. He kissed it as gently as he had my lips and said, “Thank you.” Then, he signaled for me to walk in.
“Wow.” I was stopped in the center of the entryway, looking around the large, beautiful space that opened into the kitchen. “This is so nice.”
The apartment I’d shared with Molly wasn’t anything like this. His kitchen alone was almost the size of our entire place.
His hand grazed my side as he passed me. “My best mate’s father owns the flat,” he told me as he walked to the counter while I was left shivering from his touch. “He lets the four of us stay here for free.”
“He’s a nice dad.” I continued to look around, moving farther into the kitchen. “Are your roommates here?”
He hadn’t told me much about the plans for tonight besides how to get here, what time to arrive, and that he didn’t want me to bring anything.
“They’re at The O2 for a concert.”
I knew that meant they wouldn’t be back for a while, giving us the house to ourselves.
I tried not to let that stir in my brain for too long, but we were alone, and that was what I’d been hoping for.
“Cookies?” he said, smiling when he opened the box.
I moved over to the island where he was standing, staying on the opposite side. “I tried to find something super American and failed—for obvious reasons. They were the best I could do, and fortunately, chocolate chip is my favorite, so hopefully, you don’t hate that kind.”
He took out one of the oversize cookies, checking it out. “They’ll be perfect with a cup of tea.” He set it back in the box and came closer, his hands cupping my face, thumbs grazing just under my jaw. “This was sweet of you.” His lips hovered above mine. “Except now, all I can think about is how that chocolate would taste on your body.”
I sighed, and even my breath was unsteady.
He didn’t blink.
His fingers didn’t lower from my face.
He just held me until it felt like the tension in my body was going to make me scream, and then he whispered, “I hope you’re hungry.”
Hungry?
I couldn’t nod, as he was holding me so tightly, so I breathed, “Starving,” even though I couldn’t imagine putting anything in my mouth right now. Not with the nerves that were eating through my stomach.
“Spaghetti Bolognese, the only dish I’ve mastered from my mum.”
His fingers lightened when I smiled. “You cooked?”
I’d smelled it when I first came in and just assumed he had ordered out, which was what I would have done if I were back at home.
“Surprised?”
“Very.” I laughed, and it felt strange with him holding me this way. “But pleasantly. What other talents do you have, Oliver?”
His lips moved to the shell of my ear. “You’re going to find out later tonight.”
His eyes took me in again, and then his hands were gone. He headed to the other side of the kitchen where two bowls were waiting on the counter. He scooped pasta into them from a pot on the stove and carried them over to the table.
“Take a pew,” he instructed as he passed me on the way to the counter where he grabbed a bottle of wine.
I took that as he wanted me to take a seat, and when he joined me, he poured some into the glasses.
I couldn’t help but look at the table with excitement, at the meal this incredibly handsome guy had cooked for me.
There was no question in my mind.
I was ready.
His hand wrapped around the thick stem, and he held his wine up in the air. “To …”
“London,” I added before he could say any more. It fit on every level.
He must have agreed because he smiled and clinked his glass against mine. “To London … and to you, sweet girl.”
“Me?”
He nodded, leaning forward just a little. “Because I’m going to fucking devour you tonight.”
The heat that was becoming so familiar returned, although I wasn’t sure it had ever left. And then he chuckled as though, in his mind, he was confirming everything he had just said, and I sat there, melting under his gaze.
“Eat, Chloe.”
I hadn’t even lifted my fork, so I clearly needed the reminder.
I dipped it into the bowl, twirling the wide noodles around the metal before putting them in my
mouth. I covered my lips with the back of my hand. “Oliver”—I chewed, taking in more of the flavor—“this is excellent.”
“My mum’s a great cook. I’ve tried to learn as much as I can from her.”
I couldn’t believe how good this was, and I went right back in for another bite. “It shows,” I said. “It’s really delicious.”
I saw how the compliment affected him, the smile that was different than all the others he’d given me.
“Thank you.” He stuck his fork back in the pasta but continued to look at me, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “Some crazy shit happened today. I filled out my graduation paperwork. Nuts that it’s so close.”
“I can’t believe it’s only four months away.” I shook my head. “At the end of the semester … when I’m due to go home.”
“You’re going back right away?”
I’d been thinking about this a lot, and even though the study abroad program was over in May, I didn’t have to return to Boston until the end of August.
“I don’t have to,” I admitted, wiping my mouth. “I could stay here through the summer.”
His hand left his fork, and his arms crossed over the table. “One term and maybe the summer … that’s all you’re giving me, Chloe Kennedy?”
I nodded.
Because that was easier.
Because something in my chest already hurt so badly.
And that was a feeling I’d never felt before.
“Then, we’d better make the most of our time together.”
He was the one who had spoken the words, but I had said the same ones in my head.
Eleven
“You feel fucking amazing,” Oliver growled across my neck as he stood behind me.
His room faced the garden in the back, and the lights that shone over the fence gave a hint of a glow, allowing me to see the outline of our wineglasses on his nightstand. We’d had a few over the course of the evening, drinking just enough to give a warm, quiet buzz, and a calm was now humming through me rather than being overwhelmed with nerves.