Malicious

by Alex Grayson

  I shrug. “Maybe.”

  I apply the ointment to her knee and place a bandage over the area. My hand lingers on the underside of her knee, enjoying the sensation of her warm and smooth skin against my palm. I slowly rub my thumb back and forth.

  Looking up at her, I find her green eyes pinned on me. The box of candy is sitting in her lap, forgotten. Her chest rises and falls faster than it should, and her lips are parted as she takes in shallow breaths.

  The look in her eyes as her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip is too much for me to handle. Gently, I set her foot on the floor, then drop to my knees in front of her. Wedging my hips between her legs, I scoot closer to her. I can practically feel the heat coming off her, and it only manages to raise my own body temperature by several degrees.

  Sliding my hands up her thighs until my fingers curl around her waist, I slowly slide her to the edge of the couch. A hiss leaves my lips when her hot core meets my shaft.

  I have never, in my entire fucking life, wanted someone as much as I want Savannah.

  I keep waiting for her to push me away, but she doesn’t. I’m surprised when her legs lock around my waist and she grips the front of my shirt, tugging me forward.

  One minute I’m gauging her reaction, the next I’m slamming my mouth against hers. She tastes like cinnamon and sin. A heady combination.

  I groan and deepen the kiss, thrusting my hips against her. My dick is so hard it feels like it’s going to break off.

  “I need you, Oliver,” she moans breathily, sending my need skyrocketing. “I need you,” she repeats, the look in her eyes telling me exactly what she means by need.

  Never have I loved words more than the ones she just uttered. I pull back just enough so I can see her face. “I need you to be sure. Really fucking sure. Because once I get started, baby, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

  She licks my bottom lip before biting down on it gently. “I’m sure.”

  “What happened to whatever this is, is over?” I question, wanting to punch myself in the face for even bringing that shit up.

  “I changed my mind.” There’s something desperate in her tone. Something that tells me that this isn’t just about me. I shouldn’t oblige. I should force her to talk to me. But fuck me if I’m not a selfish bastard who can’t resist the opportunity to have her beneath me.

  Gripping her ass, I get to my feet with her still wrapped around me.

  With determined strides, I carry her to her room.

  14

  SAVANNAH

  I don’t know what I’m doing or why. All I know is that I need this. I need to feel something, anything. I’ve had this pit in my stomach for days, this ache that has solidified itself and refuses to go away.

  I refuse to think too much about this. Right now, I only want to lose myself in the man who has more than gotten under my skin. A man, who in a lot of ways, I don’t even like. And yet here I am, kissing him, begging for what I need.

  Him.

  “Oliver,” I pant against his lips as he deposits me on the bed, crawling up the mattress in a way that forces me to move with him.

  “Fuck, Savannah.” He runs his hand down my side. “Do you have any idea how badly I want this?”

  Just hearing him say it causes my already heated skin to erupt into an inferno.

  His lips are everywhere. My jaw. My neck. Across my collarbone. Trailing a path of heat everywhere they touch. When he tugs my shirt down and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, I gasp. He’s not gentle, but right now gentle is not what I want.

  He moves to the other side, repeating the process, swirling his tongue around the hard bud. My fingers dig into the sheets as my back arches, silently begging for more.

  He shifts upward, pulling me with him, and removes my shirt and sports bra in one swift movement. I wish I had thought to shower at the gym, but I’m too lost to the sensation of his hands on my body to care too much at the moment.

  The room is completely dark, with the exception of the small glow from the hallway light peeking through the door. But Oliver’s touch makes the whole room feel alive. Like the sun is blaring down on us inside the four walls of this room.

  Guiding me back down, he starts at my neck and slowly, torturously, makes his way all the way down to the waistband of my pants—nipping and tasting my skin as he descends.

  I’m a ball of nerves as he grabs the stretchy waistband and tugs down, raising up just enough to remove them and my panties before tossing them somewhere on the floor. And then his mouth is on me, teasing me, tasting me. I writhe against him as his tongue laps against my core, sliding between my folds.

  I’ve never felt anything like it before. Sure, I’ve had guys go down on me, but never like this. Never with so much skill and determination. He works my body so expertly, as if it was a road map that he’s studied a million times. He knows every turn, every back road, every winding street like he’s committed it all to memory.

  My orgasm comes on so fast and strong that I cry out in both surprise and pleasure. It rockets through me with so much intensity that I grind down on his face, never wanting the feeling to end.

  Oliver growls, slowing his movements as he eases me down.

  “Fuck. I could do that forever.” He brushes the tip of his nose against my clit and inhales deeply. I want to tell him to stop, and normally I probably would, but with Oliver, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Maybe it’s because I’ve convinced myself that I don’t care what he thinks. Or maybe it’s because he does it with such appreciation for my body that I don’t hear the usual voice of self-doubt in the back of my head.

  Oliver lifts his head and begins working his way up my body like a predator about to devour his prey. I anticipate his every move, yet every slip of his tongue and press of his lips makes me jump slightly.

  When he reaches my jaw, he nips at the flesh before sitting up just enough to tug his shirt over his head. I can’t see the smile on his face, but I can feel it the instant his lips touch mine. He slides his tongue into my mouth, swirling it against mine. I can taste myself on him, and it’s hands down one of the most erotic things I’ve ever experienced.

  “Now, Oliver,” I breathe against his mouth, the ache in my belly not satisfied. I need more. So much more.

  “Condom?” He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and bites down gently. I can feel the sensation all the way to my toes.

  “Top drawer of the nightstand.” My voice is breathy.

  He shifts, tugging open the drawer before he rustles through the contents, trying to find the small box of condoms I keep in there, just in case. Of course, when I bought them I never in a million years dreamed it would be Oliver in my bed.

  He locates the box and quickly tears it open, pulling one of the condoms out. Working down his shorts, he rips the packet with his teeth and rolls the condom on.

  I’m a ball of nerves as I wait.

  A part of me is screaming to stop this before it goes too far. The other part of me wants nothing more than to feel him inside of me. It’s a push and pull. A back and forth. My mind and my heart waging war on one another.

  Only this isn’t about my heart. This is about my body. And right now, all it wants is something only this man can give me.

  Oliver settles back down on top of me, lining himself at my entrance before hesitating. Pushing my hair away from my face, he looks down at me for a long moment.

  “What are you waiting for?” I groan impatiently.

  “Just taking it all in,” he says, jolting forward abruptly.

  He fills me so suddenly and completely that I’m not sure which is greater, the pleasure or the pain. I cry out, his mouth swallowing up the sound seconds later.

  And then he’s moving, thrusting into me with so much force that I’m sliding up the bed, the sheets bunching beneath me. I claw at his back, pull at his hair, buck my hips upward, meeting him thrust for thrust.

  I feel him everywhere. From the top of my head to the tip
s of my toes. There isn’t a single part of my body unaffected.

  I wouldn’t say I’m promiscuous by any means, but having been with three guys before Oliver, I know that what I feel, what he’s making me feel, is not the norm. I shudder to think how much practice he’s had to make him this good, and quickly push the thought away.

  Oliver slides his hand around the back of my knee and arches my leg up, giving him the ability to hit me in just the right spot. His other hand is firmly on my hip, his fingers biting into my skin. I moan and writhe, mumbling incoherently about how good he feels and how I never want him to stop.

  And then it’s back. The build. The tingling sensation that starts at the back of my neck and slowly spreads down my spine. My skin prickles. Sweat beads across my forehead. And if not for Oliver’s weight holding me down, I’d swear I was moments from floating away.

  My second orgasm hits a thousand times harder than the first. It feels like I’m being torn open from the inside out, the build so slow that by the time it finally peaks, I’m not sure if I can take anymore.

  I explode around Oliver’s thick length, crying out so loudly that all I hear is my voice reverberating off of the walls back to me.

  I vaguely catch the deep rumble of a groan from Oliver through the fog that has encompassed me. I feel the tenseness in his legs, feel the force of his thrusts, and then seconds later, he collapses down on top of me.

  “That was….” He drops his face into the crook of my neck, forcing me to take the full weight of his body, his chest rising and falling in quick succession as he works to catch his breath. “Fucking incredible,” he finally finishes his thought, his voice vibrating against my damp skin.

  Seconds bleed into minutes as the heat of the moment passes. And when I finally find my way back down to Earth, I don’t regret it the way I’d expected to. Hell, if anything, I think I want to do it again.

  It wasn’t what I’d expected…. None of this has been what I’d expected. Then again, I’d never actually expected this to happen… ever.

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” I tell Oliver, who’s still planted inside me after several minutes.

  “Don’t make me move.” He smiles against my neck. “I’ve decided I’m going to stay here forever, buried inside your warm pussy.”

  “You realize most girls don’t like that word.” I giggle when his head pops up and his eyes meet mine.

  “What? Pussy?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, crinkling my nose.

  “And why the hell not?”

  “Because it’s crude and ungentlemanly.”

  “I hate to break it to you, V, but I am not a gentleman.”

  The use of my nickname sounds unfamiliar coming off his lips, yet I can’t deny that I like how it sounds.

  “Bathroom. Now.” I pat on his shoulder.

  “Fine,” he grumbles, sliding out of me. My body objects to the loss of him.

  He rolls to the side, the absence of his weight hitting me like a blast of cold air.

  I quickly sit up and climb out of bed, disappearing into the bathroom seconds later.

  When the door is closed and locked behind me, I flip on the light and turn toward my reflection. My cheeks are flushed. There’s some red spots on my neck and chest from Oliver’s mouth. And I’m fairly certain I can already see a bruise forming on my hip from his fingers.

  I smile, shoving little strands of hair stuck to my forehead out of my face. I think this might be the first time in a long time I’ve looked at myself naked and not felt absolutely disgusted with what I see. Maybe it’s the buzz of the orgasm high still sifting through my veins. Or maybe it’s that I feel so deliriously happy that the imperfections of my body don’t seem as important.

  Happy? I find myself questioning the thought. Is that what I feel?

  I think on it for a moment, realizing that’s exactly what it is. I feel happy.

  I want to regret it. I want to be mad at myself for giving into Oliver Conley, but I can’t seem to muster even an ounce of remorse.

  Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I close my eyes and relish in the sweet soreness of my lips—knowing Oliver’s kiss is what caused it.

  “You okay in there?” Oliver knocks on the door, startling me out of the dreamy daze that seems to have settled over me.

  “Yeah.” I turn, pulling back the shower curtain before flipping on the water.

  “Are you showering?” he asks, humor in his voice.

  “I didn’t shower after I worked out,” I say in way of explanation, grabbing a towel from underneath the sink.

  “And it made you taste that much sweeter.”

  My gut instinct is to balk at his comment, or at the very least, be disgusted by it. Only I’m not. In fact, the statement has me ready to tear open the door and go for round two.

  But knowing myself, and knowing I need a minute to process, I refrain, stepping under the spray of the hot water instead.

  I’ve only just gotten my hair wet when the shower curtain moves. My eyes open right in time to see Oliver step into the shower with me, a mischievous look on his face.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I try to act appalled but fail miserably.

  “Taking a shower.” He shrugs, the grin on his face so adorable. I swear I feel my insides melt a little.

  Wait…. Did I just refer to Oliver as adorable?

  What the hell kind of drugs am I on right now?

  This is Oliver Conley we’re talking about.

  The man who grates on me so badly sometimes I want to claw his eyeballs out.

  The man who’s so infuriating that I’ve actually daydreamed about running him over with my car.

  The man who only days ago I could barely stand the sight of.

  It’s like I’ve entered some sort of alternate reality and everything that should be, isn’t, and everything that shouldn’t be, is.

  “How did you even get in here?” I question, wiping the water from under my eyes.

  “It’s a pretty simple lock. You can pick it with just about anything. A butter knife. A screwdriver. The end part of a pair of fingernail clippers.” He smiles, telling me this is the method he used.

  “So in other words, I need to get a better lock.”

  “Hmm.” He taps his chin. “I’m going to say no to that one.” He steps closer, sliding one hand around the small of my back and the other across the side of my neck.

  With one quick tug, I’m in his arms.

  He stares down at me for a long moment, his eyes sweeping across my face.

  “You’re beautiful,” he tells me, his voice so soft that I barely catch his words over the sound of the water.

  I’m not sure what to say. The way he’s looking at me. The way he’s talking to me. It’s like he’s someone completely different. Where’s the vile, self-serving asshole that I’m used to seeing? The one who has an insult at the ready every time I speak? The one who makes me want to throw myself off a cliff every time he opens his mouth.

  There is no trace of that man right now.

  It’s as if, standing here, we’re two completely different people.

  Before I can think of any kind of response that wouldn’t sound completely ridiculous, Oliver leans forward, kissing me slow and deep.

  It doesn’t take long for the leisurely kiss to heat up, and before I realize it, Oliver has me pinned against the shower wall, his fingers inside of me.

  If I thought for one second that this was only going to be a one-time thing, I was wrong. Dead wrong. Because as I come apart on his hand, all I can think is how badly I want to do this over and over again.

  15

  OLIVER

  I wake to the best fucking feeling in the world. A warm body pressed against me, my face buried in her luscious hair, and my dick wedged between two warm ass cheeks. Taking a deep breath in, I inhale Savannah’s delicious scent. I never knew actually sleeping with someone could be so pleasurable. Something tells me it’s the person, not so much the
action.

  Opening my lips, I lick a spot in the crook of her shoulder then suck a piece of skin into my mouth.

  Savannah moans and presses her ass back against me.

  “If you leave a hicky on me, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  Her sleepy voice is sexy as hell.

  Releasing the suction I have on her, I lean back and look at the mark I left, along with the few others I left last night.

  “Too late.”

  She growls, but I hear the smile she’s fighting. Does she like the thought of me marking her? I know I really like seeing them.

  “What time is it?”

  “Don’t know,” I mumble as I kiss a path from her shoulder up her neck. “Don’t care.”

  She grabs her phone from the nightstand, and a moment later, she jerks up in bed.

  “Shit!” she nearly shouts. “You’ve got to go! Rylee will be home soon!”

  Grabbing her by the back of her head, I yank her back down. “Fuck that. I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.” To punctuate this, I settle myself between her legs, effectively keeping her exactly where I want her.

  “Oliv— Oh, God,” she moans when I press my hardness against her. Too bad she put her panties back on before we went to sleep last night. “You don’t play fair.”

  “Never said I did, baby.”

  She pants and tilts her head to the side. “I don’t want Rylee to see you here.”

  “Why?” I kiss down her neck until I reach the valley between her breasts. Her nails dig into my sides so hard I let out a hiss.

  “Because I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

  I take little nibbles across the top of her breasts before I zero in on a nipple. She tastes so fucking sweet in my mouth.

  “And what idea is that?”

  I feel her eyes on me, so I look up.

  “That we’re actually together.”

  Smiling, because she’s so fucking cute, I lick her nipple. “We are.”

  Her eyebrows slant and she presses her lips together. “No, we aren’t.”