Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Adele

W e found ourselves back at my apartment, the emotions, the heat so pronounced I felt like I was drowning and breathing all in the same breath. We’d barely been able to keep our hands off each other on the cab ride over. It was like we’d been chained up, locked away without light or air, food or water.

But now that we had each other, we were kings, feasting.

We were a mess of tangled limbs, uncoordinated movements, and matching arousal that couldn’t be doused even if we wanted to. We tumbled through the front door, and I haphazardly kicked it shut with my foot, not letting go of Oliver, not wanting to break the spell that surrounded us.

“God, I’ve been dreaming of this moment,” he murmured against my mouth, and I swallowed the words. He moved us backward, and he ran into the kitchen table, the small glass vase that housed a single daisy tipping over. I was vaguely aware of the sound of water dripping on the floor, but I didn’t care. I only cared about this moment.

But I found myself breathing heavily, sucking in great lungfuls of air. My body felt hot, my skin on fire. My city apartment was tiny, one area that housed the living room and kitchen, the dining room too. The bedroom and bathroom were down an equally tiny hallway, and all I could think about was going in there, tearing off our clothing, and getting lost in each other.

“I can’t breathe,” I said, or maybe I shouted it in my head. I couldn’t tell because I felt so drunk on desire.

“Come here, Adele.” His voice was low, hoarse, and there was a touch of dominance in it. A part of me hoped he couldn’t help it, that he was too far gone in this moment to try to control himself.

Being with Oliver felt right. It had from the moment I looked into his eyes as I sang that song onstage. That feeling was solidified when I heard his voice, when I felt his touch.

And I knew he was my soul mate, the person I was meant to be with, when I saw him again just hours ago looking into my eyes with that same passion as before.

I didn’t want to let this go, didn’t want to lose what we obviously had.

We knew essentially nothing about each other, but that didn’t matter. I knew in my heart what I wanted, what was right, and that was being with Oliver.

And he looked at me like he wanted me naked, like he wanted to devour me, tear into me until there was nothing left in the best of ways.

And God, did I want that, especially right now.

All I could think about was telling him all these things moving through my head, all the things I’d thought about for the past ninety days. He’d think I was crazy if I uttered love, that I felt like I’d fallen in love with him at first sight.

Each day, those feelings became stronger, harder to ignore.

“Come here, Adele,” he said again.

All I could focus on was the way his mouth moved as he said those three words. All I could think about was how electrifying his voice was as it moved over my body.

I licked my lips and moved that last bit of space it took to almost have our chests brushing together.

This is crazy.

This is so right.

It feels so good.

He reached out and cupped my waist with one hand and covered one side of my face with the other. The scent of him was intense, intoxicating. His short dark hair was disheveled, as if he’d been nervously running his fingers through it all night. But I knew I was the reason those strands were a wild mess.

I’d been the one running my hands through them as we kissed in the cab, as I clutched him to me so strongly I felt like we were one.

And the scent of him, good God, the scent of him, that mixture of cologne and masculinity, absolutely drove me insane with lust.

He held my cheek in a gentle, almost tentative hold with his other hand, as if he were afraid I’d bolt if he added too much pressure. But I had no intentions of doing that, not when I felt this light move through me when he touched me.

“Adele,” he half-whispered, half-groaned. The sound went through my entire body like flames licking over me. “If I told you how I felt, you’d run away. You’d be so damn afraid you’d never want to see me again.”

I heard the fear in his voice and shook my head, knowing it would probably be the opposite. “Tell me,” I all but begged and pleaded.

He was silent, still for so long I wondered if he even breathed. I wanted to tell him what I felt, how he made me feel. But I was afraid. I bit my tongue, the pain a realization that saying too much might scare him away. I’d let him take the forefront in this moment. I’d give him the lead.

“I’m so damn afraid to say it,” he whispered again and lowered his gaze to my lips. “I’m so damn afraid of losing you again.” That last part sounded like it was meant for himself.

I shook my head and cupped his scruff-covered cheeks, forcing his head up so he could look into my eyes. “Tell me,” I pleaded softly.

He paused a moment as if debating whether to say what he wanted, as if fighting with himself.

Say it, Oliver. Please, say it.

“I love you,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

I swallowed, my heart beating hard and almost painfully in my chest. Oh my God. I’d been wanting to hear those words from him.

I wanted to say them myself.

“I love you too,” I whispered.

He looked stunned, then brushed the pad of his thumb along my cheek.

Back and forth, back and forth. All Oliver did was look into my eyes, almost disbelief in his expression. God, his eyes were so blue, so clear. I felt myself falling into them, getting lost in the color, in the deepness of them. I felt myself leaning forward, felt his warm breath brush along my lips.

I didn’t want to stop this. I wouldn’t.

I saw the way he kept looking at my lips, knew he wanted to have me again. And I wanted to give myself to him. When he leaned in, I wanted him to end this torment, to be with me once again, to give me what we both wanted.

He moved his hand behind my head, cupped my nape, and the pain and pleasure of his fingers digging into my skin had a surge of need filling me. My already climbing and repressed pleasure nearly exploded from me. And as the seconds moved by, I felt it break free into this explosive tingling sensation along my entire body.

Oliver leaned in close, his lips brushing along mine. He murmured, staring at my lips, “I want to go slow, but I can’t help myself. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop, Adele. I love you… so fucking much.”

I breathed out harshly at the passion in his voice.

“I just want to get lost in you.” He murmured against my lips.

I licked my lips, knowing he was right, and not caring or wanting to stop either.

“You have no idea how much I want you right now, Adele. You have no idea how I felt when I first saw you after all these months.”

I held my breath, looked into his blue eyes, and felt my heart skip a beat. “I love you, Oliver. I want you, want this. I want to be with you.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine. “When I woke up and you were gone, I felt like I’d lost the most integral part of me. The most important part of me.” He pulled back and looked into my eyes once more. “And then I saw you again in that hallway, heard your voice, smelled your scent… felt your skin, and I found my heart once again.”

I’d also felt this recognition and electricity move through me when I’d seen him for the first time, and then tonight? Tonight it felt like that part that had been gone for so long had finally found its way back to me. I felt like I was home.

Heat moved through me.

His lips were so close to mine that if he just leaned forward the last couple of inches that separated us, we’d be kissing once more. I felt desperate for him.

“I need to kiss you again,” he said in a low, deep voice. He groaned again. “But I should go slow, right?”

“No, fuck slow,” I said bluntly, and I saw his lips lift in a smirk.

My heart was thundering, and my panties were soaked clean through. He was so much bigger than my five-foot-four height, nearly a whole foot taller, muscular and hard. Manly.

I swallowed. “I want you.” I swallowed again. God, my throat felt so tight and dry. “Right now. I want to be with you, Oliver,” I whispered.

“You’re mine irrevocably, Adele.”

Oh. God.

“Yes,” I found myself saying before I could stop it.

“ Christ .” He had his mouth on mine, his tongue speared between my lips.

He slid his hands down my shoulders, over my arms, gripping my waist tightly. And then he was walking us backward until I felt the cold, hard wall greet me, the heat from his body warming me.

He fucked my mouth, this deep rumble leaving him and having my inner muscles clenching almost painfully. Oliver opened his mouth wider and deepened the kiss, and when he moved his hands down my thighs, grabbed the edge of my dress, and bunched it in his fists, I nearly had an orgasm right then and there. He started to slowly lift the garment up, the material moving seductively along my skin, but he stopped far too soon, right before my ass was revealed.

“Tell me you want this, and I’ll give you more than you can handle.” He sounded pained as he murmured against my lips, but also frantic with his need.

I nodded. “Give it all to me, Oliver. We’ve waited long enough.”

He started grinding his erection into my belly, and a gasp left me as I let my head fall back against the wall.

I placed my hands on his pecs and gently pushed him back. Oliver took a stumbled step away from me, his head downcast and his eyes trained right on me. He was breathing so hard his chest was rising and falling fiercely.

For several seconds we stood there just staring at each other, no one speaking. I licked my lips, knowing I didn’t want us to go slow.

The sexual chemistry and electricity bounced between us and was so damn electrifying it heated the room almost unbearably.

Finding my strength, I grabbed the straps of my dress and pushed them off my shoulders, letting the material slide down my body so it pooled on the floor around my feet. I went for my bra, took that off, then went for my panties. Here I was standing naked, ready, willing… desperate.

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