Chapter 20 Olivia
OLIVIA
The morning light pours through the slit of the curtains at just the right angle to shine on my face and wake me up from the deepest, most peaceful sleep.
I stretch, lifting my arms above my head, my spine realigning as soft crackles and pops help awaken my bones. My arm hits something solid and warm.
I’m startled. It’s only ever me in my bed.
Turning over with my mind still half-asleep, I lift my arms, putting my fists at the ready to attack, even though I have no idea what I’m doing.
And then I see him.
Last night comes back to me, breaking through the sleepy morning brain.
Elias.
He’s here. He’s in my bed. Naked. Sleeping peacefully. The blankets are wrapped low around his hips, the arrows on either side of his hips pointing straight to the hard cock tenting the comforter.
I flip to my side, tucking my hands under my cheek to watch him for a second. His breaths are even and quiet. His lashes are so curly and long—it’s unfair.
One arm is stretched over his head while the other lies flat across his belly. His tattoos are so intricate, every angel, every warrior, I can’t stop my fingers from reaching out and tracing every line.
Is it too early to tell him I love him?
I do. I’ve fallen hard and fast. Irresponsibly so.
I’ve never felt this way in my entire life. He came at me full speed and I barely had time to register what was happening. He even met my mother last night, and I’m still pinching myself at how well that meeting went.
What was once just fun sexting turned into the guy I can see myself spending the rest of my life with. I’m not sure how that happened.
Part of me wants to question if I’m actually insane and the other part of me wants to throw caution to wind.
I’m going with the wind.
The longer I stare at his body, the more I want him. The more I want those arms to be wrapped around me, his biceps flexing while they hold me against his chest. A low throb begins in my clit, my hole aching to be filled by him again. I’m sore, but it’s a good sore, the kind that I want more of.
The phantom ache of him is still there, craving more. When I walk around the hallways in the hospital, I want to feel him between my legs, reminding me with every step that I’m taking.
Watching his face to make sure I don’t wake him, I snag the blanket between my fingers. The fluffy comforter lowers just enough for his cock to be seen.
My mouth waters.
I’ve never been like this over a man before. Every part of his body, I want to indulge in. He is wine and I am drunk on him.
Scooting lower, I study his engorged cock.
It’s impressive, bigger than the toys I have, other than the replica he made for me.
I’ll be using that every night he isn’t around.
He has a freckle right under the crown, and my lips become curious.
Bending down, I kiss the warm dot, lifting my gaze to see if my touch awakens him.
At this angle, the way the light pours in through the curtains has him looking like a painting. From his hard jawline to his carved cheekbones, it’s as if a god is lying here, and I’m about to worship the throne he sits on.
I suck him between my lips, his girth stretching my mouth open, and my tongue traces the delicate head.
“Mmm.”
I look up again to see him fast asleep. His brows are drawn together as he moans, groggy.
I continue on, taking him to the back of my throat. There are a few inches that I can’t and probably won’t ever be able to fit into my mouth. I’ll always have fun trying, though.
Precum drips onto my tongue, salty and clean. I love how he tastes. I hum around him, swinging my leg over his to straddle him so I can suck him easier. My fingers drift down his body, needing to touch every part of him I can.
I wonder what time he has to go to work today.
I check the time; it’s around seven in the morning so I have two hours before I have to go to work for Dr. Warrick. I want to make the most of the time we have together. I’m already thinking about tonight and how I need time to move fast so I can be in bed with Elias again.
I hate the feeling of being excited and needing time to move fast, when it’s so damn slow. Today will be torturous.
I take Elias too far down my throat and gag.
His fingers drift through my hair, slow and with question, like he doesn’t fully understand what’s happening. “Fuck, Livie.” His voice is riddled with gravel and sleep, a rasp that only morning can hold.
The nickname he gives me spurs me on. I bob my head faster, wrapping my hand around the base of his shaft that I can’t fit in my mouth.
He hisses. “Look at me.”
I do as he says without question.
“Goddamn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier sight. Look at you. Fuck!” He tosses his head back, the tendons in his throat flexing, and before I know it, I’m flipped onto my back. “I won’t waste a drop down your throat when you and I are trying to build a family here.”
In one smooth stroke, he’s inside me. We both groan at how good the other feels. He lifts my legs, pressing the back of my thighs against his stomach while my ankles rest on his shoulders. Wrapping an arm around my legs to keep me in place, he fucks me hard and fast.
The purpose here isn’t to prolong. It’s to come. It’s to start the day with fireworks. There’re no soft qualities about the way he’s moving against me. Our skin slaps together from the force.
“You better wake me up like that every morning. Every morning I’m going to see my cock wrapped in your tongue and I’m going to flip you onto your back, fucking you until you’re crying my name for your neighbors to hear.”
“Yes! God, yes! Elias, I’ll do whatever you want. Anywhere you want. However you want.”
He growls in approval, bending my legs to my chest so he can hover over me. “I like the sound of that. I won’t let you forget it either.”
I don’t know what it is about this position. I’ve never been bent in half like this before. The pressure of my legs against my stomach has his cock pressing against that spot inside me that has stars bursting across my vision.
“Oh my god!” I clutch onto his shoulder, my fingernails digging to his flesh, raking down to leave marks.
“Fuck, you’re going to make me come.” He closes his eyes, doing his best to hold off his orgasm so he can give me mine.
He drifts his hand between my legs, pressing against my clit, rolling it and pinching it how I like.
“This pussy is mine. This body is mine. Your mind. Your soul. Fucking everything about you is mine. Tell me,” he orders, thrusting so hard the mattress moves to the left from the force.
My orgasm builds, the warmth spreading from head to toe, my body becoming boneless. My toes curl and every muscle clenches as pleasure bursts through me.
“I’m yours—Elias!” His name is ripped from my throat, an alarm to awaken my neighbors.
He groans as he comes too, pressing a cheek against my leg as he buries himself as far as he can. “Olivia,” he says, so breathlessly, so soft, so needy.
Elias collapses, kissing the side of my neck. “Best way to wake up. I don’t think I’ll be able to survive another day without my day starting just like this.” He presses a kiss against my cheek.
“That would mean we spend every single night together. Are you sure you want that? What if…” I toy with the ends of his hair. “What if it’s too much too soon and you get sick of me?”
He lifts himself so he can stare down at me.
“I could never get sick of you. I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve fought it for weeks.
It took me too long to wrap my mind around the age gap, but I don’t care.
I want this. I want you. I want the future we talked about.
I…” He swallows, taking my hand and pressing it against his chest. “I’m falling in love with you. ”
“I’m falling in love with you too,” I hurry to say before he can say anything else.
He smiles so big. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Then, you should know what’s going on with me right now. It wouldn’t be fair for me to keep it from you. Let’s go get some coffee and I’ll tell you all about it.”
I hate it when he slips out of me, and I know he doesn’t like it either by the frown that tilts his lips downward.
“How about I make you coffee?” he suggests.
“You stay here, legs up. Keep my cum inside you, sweetheart. We don’t want it to go to waste.
” With two fingers, he pushes his seed inside me.
He growls, and then as if I’m as light as a feather, he slides me up the bed, turns me around, and lifts my legs so they can be pressed against the headboard.
“Stay just like that. Butt pressed against the headboard, legs straight in the air. I’ll be back.
” He bends down and kisses my forehead. “Don’t. Move.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I reply with a happy smile.
“Good. You’ll be missing your next period.” He walks away, giving me a view of his perky butt before he covers it with his damn jeans.
I hear him fiddling in the kitchen and I close my eyes, allowing myself to fall asleep again.
“Hey.” His voice is soft as his knuckles brush down my cheek. “Wake up, sweetheart. I have your coffee. You can move now.” He chuckles.
I know he’s right, but I’d love to sit here all day. I roll out of bed, use the restroom, wash my hands, and climb into bed naked. Taking the hot cup of coffee from him, I sigh when the warmth hugs my palms through the mug.
“What did you want to talk about?” My stomach turns into knots. I always get nervous when people say “we need to talk” or something similar.
He leans against the headboard, and it creaks, broken from last night. I smirk into my coffee, loving this life for me. I’m ready for a repeat.
Elias tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling. “I’m going to just talk and get it all out or I’m afraid I won’t.”
“Got it. I’ll just listen.” I pat his hand, then scoot closer, looping my arm through his.
“My mom died when I was thirteen. A brain aneurysm. I knew then I wanted to be a neurosurgeon. Anyway, my dad changed—he became an alcoholic. He was in and out of my life and until recently, I thought I would never see him again. It’s been years.
He stumbled into the ER, wasted, and punched me in the face. ”
I gasped. “That’s what happened? Oh my god, Elias.”
“It’s fine. Come to find out, he knew he had liver failure.
He needs a transplant. He came here because he knew I was his only chance.
I’m a match. I’m going to donate, but I told him after this I’m done with him.
Yesterday, he begged me to give him another chance, but I don’t know if I can.
I’ve given him so many. He asked if there was anyone special, and I wanted to tell him about you so bad.
I figured he would ruin it, so I kept it to myself. ”
“Wait. You’re donating your liver? Do you need help? I can look after you. I can stay at your place or you at mine. Anything.”
He turns to me with watery eyes and smiles. “Yeah? Really? I was going to ask, but I didn’t want you to feel obligated. They said I needed a support system after the surgery. I knew that, but after years of isolating myself, I don’t have a support system.”
I straddle his lap, placing my coffee on the nightstand. Taking his face in my hands, I press our foreheads together. “You do now. I’m your support system.”