He is licking my skin. She tilted her chin back as far as it would go. “More,” she whispered.
He obeyed, licking her again and then opening his mouth over her pounding pulse and sucking until it stung.
Her hands launched to his head, fingers weaving through his hair and yanking him closer, communicating without words that he’d better not stop, and she intended to make sure that he didn’t.
He dragged that open-mouthed kiss up the side of her neck and bit the tendon below her ear. Her hips jerked up in response, shoving his erection against their clothes, and forcing it hard between her legs.
She cried out and immediately thrust her hips again, needing that moving pressure more than she’d needed anything in her life. “Oliver,” she moaned. He must move. He must or I am lost.
“Fast,” Oliver groaned. “This is going to be so fast.”
That sounded wonderful to her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Do it.”
“Fuck,” he swore beneath his breath. The pressure of his body against hers vanished, and she reached for him, a plaintive noise escaping her.
He redirected her arms over her head and seized her tunic, hauling it up and off. She should be embarrassed. She was bare-chested before him. But she was wild with the need for him to touch her. To join his body with hers.
His hands went to the waist of her pants, and she tried to help him, their fingers tangling. They pulled her pants down her hips, and then he took over, taking them the rest of the way off.
“Yours off…too,” she panted, trailing her fingers up her stomach, needing to be touched in some way, even if she had to do it herself.
He swore roughly again and there was a frantic rustling of cloth. Then, blessedly quickly, he was back on top of her. Skin to skin.
“Oh, my goodness,” she breathed, overcome by the silky brush of their unclothed bodies.
Oliver groaned and pressed his forehead against her shoulder. “Farrah,” he breathed. “You feel so damn good against me.”
She could not agree more. Her hands were roving everywhere, learning him all over again as quickly as they could. His back was fascinating—wide and long and tapering down to…
Her hands palmed his bottom. She bit into his shoulder at the same time he inhaled a breath with a hiss.
Following instinct again, she began to apply pressure to him, hoping to drive him into her body.
“Just a second,” he begged, his breaths billowing in and out of him.
There was a crinkle. Oliver pulled his hips back, Farrah clutching desperately at him. His fingers brushed between her legs. “So ready for me,” he groaned, and then he pushed back against her.
The crown of his erection pressed right into the valley between her thighs, and Farrah began to scissor her legs, wanting him to move so badly she couldn’t stand it. “Oliver,” she moaned, the word a plea.
“Finally going to do this,” he muttered. “Can’t believe it.” He grabbed her behind her knee and pulled her leg up and over his hip. His breath was harried and puffing into her ear, and with a primitive groan, he shoved into her.
A quick flash of white hot pain shot up from where they were joined. Farrah stiffened and gasped, burying her face in Oliver’s neck.
That was…unexpected. She blinked quickly, and the pain filtered away. In moments it was as though it had never happened at all, and the massive stretching inside her body began to feel wonderfully achy instead of just achy.
She sighed, and several of her clenched muscles relaxed, eliminating even more discomfort. She even ran her hand up Oliver’s back, stroking him.
She frowned. She had relaxed, but every muscle in Oliver’s body was tight and shaking.
***
No. Oh, fuck, no.
He was staring at Farrah’s ear, his hands clenching her pillow. There was still a stinging on his shoulder where she’d bitten him seconds ago as he thrust into her tight, hot, body.
A bite she’d delivered out of startled pain.
He tried to reign in his breathing and his rattling heartbeat. “Farrah,” he said in a shaky voice, “please tell me what I think just happened did not happen.”
“You are not moving,” she moaned, her hands stroking down to his ass again.
He drew back to stare at her face. “No, I’m not moving,” he said slowly, enunciating every word. Her eyes were still glazed with passion, and her lips were rosy red as though she’d been biting them. “You were a virgin?” he asked, his voice rising and cracking. “Oh, my God.” He felt his face blanch. “I hurt you.” His hands spasmed on the pillow. “I hurt you!”
His erection flagged. “Oh, my God,” he said again and kept repeating it. He slid from her body, and he pulled back, gazing down. A smear of blood marked him.
I’m going to be sick.
“Where are you going?” She reached for him, her eyes wide and wandering.
He’d just taken his Impulse Mate’s virginity. In what could be interpreted as a prostitution deal. With a vicious, uncaring thrust.
He settled back on his haunches and covered his mouth with shaking fingers. “I’m so sorry,” he blurted. “You didn’t tell me. I’m so sorry.”
Looking down at her, he spotted another smear of blood on the sheets between her legs, and he started seeing dots of black.
He hadn’t even kissed her.
It was a stupid thought, but it entered his mind and then latched.
“Farrah,” he moaned. He reached down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up until she was sitting in front of him, her legs wrapped around him as he knelt in the circle of their embrace. He crushed her face to his chest and rocked back and forth.
He could never make this up to her. Not even close.
After a few moments, Farrah wrapped her arms around Oliver’s waist. “Are you…all right?” Her words were muffled by his body.
A sad laugh. “You’re asking me that?”
“I…do not know why you stopped. I was enjoying myself.” There was disappointment in her voice.
Oliver drew back. Keeping one arm wrapped around her, he tipped her face toward his with a finger beneath her chin. Her eyes did not meet his face. “You can’t be serious.”
Her eyes closed, and he realized he was embarrassing her. That she was ashamed that she’d enjoyed something that Oliver’s own reaction had indicated to her that she should not.
He was a double asshole. Great.
He cupped her face with both hands. “Baby, I’m sorry,” he said again.
“I wish you would stop saying that,” she whispered, her eyes still closed.
He brushed his thumbs across her cheeks. “You’re right.” He kissed both of her closed eyes. “Tell me what you want me to do. Anything, Farrah. I’ll do it.” And he meant anything. If she asked him to take her back to Afghanistan in this moment, he’d haul Anahita out of her apartment and get her to do it.
“Would you…perhaps…stop talking?” she asked. “You are sort of ruining everything.”
Oliver stiffened, but then a genuine laugh brewed in his gut and burst out of him. She appeared startled by it, but her face cleared, and the smallest smile tipped her lips.
Before he could stop himself, he was bending down to taste that sweet, soft smile. A quick brush of his lips across hers, and he forced himself to back off.
Her smile was gone, and Oliver fought down a groan. Why did he have to do that?
“Can I make another request?” she asked softly.
Oliver braced himself. “Of course,” he answered.
She blinked several times and pulled in a slow breath. “Do that again?”
He’d misheard. “What?”
Her eyes were downcast again. “Never mi—”
He pressed his lips upon hers, tilting her head just the way he needed to in order to cover her mouth fully. Her lips were so soft and giving under his, he brushed his mouth back and forth in a gentle caress.
He felt her relax under his hands, and she sighed, c
ausing all of the blood in his overwhelmed head to shoot straight to his dick, at once rendering him lightheaded.
He fit his bottom lip between hers and trailed his hands down from her cheeks to her neck, over her shoulders and then to around her back, urging her to her knees so she was more level with him.
She followed his lead beautifully, and soon he had his arms wrapped tightly around her. Her breasts were pressed into his ribs, and her soft, soft belly was the perfect landing place for his erection.
She fought to get closer to him, bowing her back and thrusting her stomach against his arousal. He hissed in a breath, nipping her top lip in the process.
Control, he scolded himself. Let her explore. She’d asked for a kiss, nothing else, and no matter how crazy her writhing was driving him, he was going to keep his cool.
She returned his nip, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip and rolling it back and forth.
The tiny string attaching his brain to any function of his body strained, but he kept it together through sheer effort. He did permit himself the pleasure of laying open palms over her gorgeous ass. When she moaned into the kiss, he used his hands to haul her up. Like a dream, she wrapped her legs around his waist, cinching them so tightly he had a little trouble breathing. Or perhaps the trouble breathing was from the way her hot, wet center slicked down his stomach in their new position.
He slid his tongue into her mouth, skimming it against hers and coaxing her to follow him back into his own mouth, which she did.
In one last bid for control, Oliver tried to shake his head and slow down. But, in almost a mockery of his efforts, she moaned into his kiss.
“Do not stop,” she whispered ferociously against his mouth before diving into the kiss once more, licking at his lips before thrusting inside.
His mind was shattering into millions of stars. No matter how many times he imagined being with his Impulse Mate in the past years, the act of simply kissing her, their naked bodies intertwined, was more erotic and more satisfying than anything he’d imagined or experienced in his entire life.
Her hips began moving in his grip, and he realized she was sliding herself up and down his stomach. He drew back to gaze at her and a sly smile spread his lips. “Trying to rub your hot little clit against me?”
She gasped, a quick blush spread across her cheeks, and he realized how filthy a virgin may find what he’d just said to her.
He’d always been a dirty talker in the bedroom, and right now he cursed that inclination even as he admitted what he’d just said to her was nothing compared to the things he wanted to whisper in her ear as she came undone in his arms.
But her shock quickly vanished. “Yes, Oliver,” she moaned, writhing against him with more power than she had previously.
Oh, fuck. If she was going to like his dirtiness, he was so screwed. Have to make this good for her.
“Let me help you, baby,” he murmured, licking his way across her jaw to her ear. He tightened his grip on her ass; at the same time, he sucked her earlobe between his teeth, worrying it until she canted her head to the side. He guided her hips to tilt forward, and then he helped her slide against him, dragging her up and down much farther than she’d been able to do on her own.
Her desperate breathing hitched, and she tossed her head back, pulling her ear from his mouth, and cried out his name.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. She’d cried out his name. “Tell me what to do,” he begged, his words frantic. “Tell me.” If she did not, he would make his own way, and within seconds, he was going to be inside of her body again unless she told him otherwise. She was the most beautiful and sensual creature he’d ever held. He wanted her so badly he couldn’t think straight.
“Faster,” she breathed. “Faster, Oliver.”
He obeyed immediately, his gaze rapt upon her face as he watched passion bloom there. “So fucking gorgeous,” he muttered, sliding her clit over his stomach again and again, his arms starting to burn from the speed and the strain of holding himself back.
Her brows drew together; her breathing sped up. “You’re so close,” he groaned. Do it, he internally begged. “Let me watch you come for me.”
Her eyes widened. “Not yet,” she said, her words a broken plea. “I do not want it to stop yet.”
He shook his head. “I’m not stopping,” he promised. “I’ll never stop.”
“O-Oliver.” She sucked in a ragged breath, and when she released it, it was a cry. Her entire body stiffened in his arms. Her head was thrown back; her nipples hardened to the point they looked red and painful.
His gaze jumped from feature to feature, trying to drink her all in at once, and all the while, he steadily rubbed her against him, his grip tightening on her giving body.
Her cry wavered and dropped off. He felt her muscles release their clamp on her body, and he pulled her close, slowing the frantic movement of her hips against him to a mild undulation. His grip went from fierce to tender, and he tucked her head beneath his chin.
She licked his neck, biting at his collarbone, and his cock kicked beneath her ass.
He was aching. Badly. Almost as though it were the end of day three instead of the end of day two. Holding his woman in his arms, her orgasm spread across his abdomen, her sighs in his ear, was driving him to madness. His instincts were strong and urgent.
And—he could scarcely believe it—he wasn’t going to act on them. Not at all.
He sighed and forced himself to focus. “Want another one?” he whispered into her hair.
An exhausted giggle. “You just want to give me orgasms?”
“Until your body gives out.”
She pulled back slowly and frowned. “Why would you do that? Why would you want to?”
Oliver’s mouth was dry. “The way you look—the way you sound.” He shook his head. “There aren’t sufficient words to explain it, but you can trust me when I say there is nothing I’d rather do than make you cry out like you just did over and over until we both can’t move anymore.”
Her brow furrowed. “You get that much…pleasure just from mine?”
“Fuck yes.” He leaned forward, laying her down amid the nest of blankets, sheets, and pillows. He knelt between her spread thighs and bit his lip to keep from groaning. She was so pretty between her legs—her lips swollen and glistening. He reached down and stroked across her engorged clit with his thumb.
She gasped and rolled her hips up to chase his retreating thumb. “Then I want to try that, please.”
“Try what, baby?” he asked distractedly, dragging a finger down the center of her lips.
“Hearing you reach orgasm.”
His finger froze; his head snapped up. Her expression was clouded by passion but earnest. Yes, yes, YES! screamed the mantra in his mind.
He shook his head. “This is just for you, Farrah,” he said, his voice gravely. At the same time, his mind rebelled. Why would I say that? Isn’t the whole purpose of this to get past my death cycle?
Panic cinched around his heart, but he tried to tell himself that there was still time for that. It was only day two, and he owed her for what he’d—he swallowed hard—what he’d done to her virginal body.
She smiled a wicked Siren’s smile. “This is for me.” She reached out and spread a palm over his chest. “I want to hear more of those groans.” She scraped a nail over his nipple, and Oliver hissed in a breath. “To feel your body tighten.” She trailed her fingers down his stomach; his muscles clenched in her wake.
He grabbed her wrist. “Farrah,” he begged. “I’m trying here.”
She clicked her tongue. “I know you are.” She broke his hold on her wrist and, moving lower, wrapped her fingers around his erection.
He shuddered, his willpower crumbling around them.
Her thumb followed a rubber ridge. “What is this?”
“Condom,” he bit out. She frowned. “Protection,” he clarified.
“Ah.” Without another word, she stripped the condom from him, taking
with it the mark of her blood.
At once, he breathed easier and was tenser. Not seeing evidence of what he’d done to her was helpful, but—holy God—with her hands on his bare skin, he was a tenuous thread of control away from being inside her again, and now he was bareback.
He eyed the bedside table and tried to calculate how quickly he could have them protected again if push came to…well, thinking of shoving was not calming him down any.
Her touch was unbearably light, and it was slowly driving him mad. With gritted teeth, he wrapped his hand around hers and helped her squeeze him tight. “Harder, baby,” he said. “You can be rough.”
“Rough?” she asked doubtfully.
He jerked her hand down his length, groaning heavily as nerve endings lit a fire across his skin.
“Oh, my goodness,” she breathed. She was panting, her breasts rising and falling, and her nipples pearling tightly. She shook his hand off and repeated the movement on her own this time, and Oliver blanked, falling forward and catching himself on his outstretched arms above her.
“Shit,” he moaned when she continued to work him. He couldn’t keep from thrusting into her grip, his ass and thighs contracting as he tried to control himself. He was quickly leaving her behind, and he could tell from the slight sheen erupting all over her body that she was heavily aroused and needed to come again.
He shifted his weight to one hand, and with the other, cupped her between her legs.
She gasped and thrust her hips into his palm. “Yes,” she moaned.
Oh, God. This was going to be out of his hands in moments. She somehow knew to get rougher with him, tightening her fist and picking up speed. It was perfect. The arm that held him up was shaking.
He managed to somehow be gentle as he spread her lips apart and slid his middle finger deep, deep inside her body.
Her fist squeezed so tightly that, for the first time, Oliver felt a flare of pain along with the pleasure, and even that made his eyes roll back in his head.
He ground the heel of his palm against her clit and began easing his finger in and out of her, matching the rhythm of her movements on him.
They were both breathing so hard at this point that talking was impossible, and the litany of filthy things he wanted to say to her was clamoring in his head, desperate to get out. He dove down and captured one of her turgid nipples with his teeth.
Of Blind Fate (Operation: Middle of the Garden Book 5) Page 17