Chapter 15 Olivia
Olivia
“Are you really okay with me calling you that?” I hedge. “I feel like I should’ve asked first or something.” Even through our clothes, Isaac’s hard cock against my center makes my breath hitch.
“I meant what I said: you can call me whatever you want. But, yeah, you can absolutely call me Daddy.”
While his tone is light and playful, I’m not sure if I can handle this version of Isaac.
Keeping my heart guarded is going to be a challenge.
He slides his free hand up my side under my shirt, goosebumps erupting beneath his fingertips, only furthering my predicament.
As much as I want him, is this really the best idea?
For any of it to work, we should stick to the plan: I’m not me, and he’s not him. But I’m struggling to separate them.
As if reading my mind, he softly tells me, “You want to pretend the world around us doesn’t exist?
You can pretend all you want, Livy. But I’m sure as fuck not going to.
I’m with the one woman I’ve always wanted since the moment I saw her, so the only thing I’ll be pretending is that you’re mine after tonight. ”
Isaac lifts the shirt above one of my breasts, then lowers his mouth to my embarrassingly hard nipple.
If his tongue swirling around the peak wasn’t enough, his swoony declarations are only going to make it more painful for me to walk away from him after this.
In about forty-eight hours, he’ll be back in Ottawa, and I’ll be on a plane home to Sacramento.
I should stop this, should walk out of this room and never look back.
I can’t.
Every inch of me craves him. There is no vibrator or audio erotica that could rival what he does to me, and certainly my hand between my legs would never compare.
One night.
I can do this for one night.
In the morning, we’ll excuse it as two people who are lonely and horny, and it’ll all be fine. I can let myself indulge in a little casual sex… with my ex…. who I absolutely would want more with if things were different.
This is fine…
“Get out of your head, Livy,” he warns, peppering kisses down my stomach. “We both want what we can’t have. But for one night, I’m going to give you what you need.”
“A-and what’s that?”
“To let someone else be in charge. You’re used to leading, but you hate it. You’re going to let me decide how and when you’ll come tonight.” His eyes are dark as he pulls away, and it physically hurts to have him not touching me. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to take a quick shower.”
“Are you kidding me?” I groan, my head sinking deeper into the mattress.
Unbuttoning his shirt, he chuckles darkly. “Depends. Are you already wet for me?”
“Find out for yourself.” I’m unsure what game he’s playing, but there’s no harm in an innocent taunt.
He slides his shirt off, tossing it to the ground, all the while he keeps his eyes fixed on me. “Let’s try that again, shall we? I asked if you’re already wet—preferably soaked. Are you?”
The words tumble from me without a second thought. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl.” My favorite dimple pops on his left cheek, but only for a moment. “Show me.”
When I don’t move, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my pants and underwear, then swiftly drags them down my legs. I should be embarrassed, ashamed even, laying before him half-naked. Instead, excitement overwhelms me. I’ve wanted this—wanted him—for so damn long.
Isaac pulls off his glasses and tosses them haphazardly onto the bed, muttering something to himself softly enough I can’t quite hear.
I don’t have a moment to process what’s happening, and yelp as he grips under my knees and pulls me to the edge of the bed.
He drops to the floor, slinging my legs over his shoulders, growling, “Safe word, Olivia.”
I swallow thickly before replying, “I thought I wasn’t Olivia tonight.” When he doesn’t say anything, I prop onto my elbows, then hands, finding Isaac glancing up through his lashes, a devilish grin dancing on his lips.
“That’s right. You’re mine, babygirl.” He nips at the inside of my thigh, still never tearing his eyes away from mine. “But you still haven’t given me your safe word.”
“Tell me yours first,” I counter, pulling my shirt over my head and slinging it to the ground to join his. If we’re doing this, I’m not going to leave him wondering how much I want him.
“Fuck.”
“Your safe word is ‘fuck’?”
Isaac lets out a full laugh. “No. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” He doesn’t let me answer, instead continues, “No game. No scene. No roleplay… I could just sit here and admire you until I die.”
“You’re so full of shit.” I fall back onto the mattress with a huff. “Maybe this was a mistake.”
“Mistake? I don’t get sixty seconds to appreciate how there’s a perfect, naked woman spread wide for me on my bed? And not just any woman, the woman I’ve come to no less than a thousand times while fucking my hand? Give me some grace.”
Propping myself back onto my elbows, I insist, “Then you need to not say things like that. How am I supposed to walk out of here in the morning and pretend tonight didn’t happen?”
“I sure as fuck won’t forget a single second I’ve spent with you.
It doesn’t matter that I remember how amazing your cunt feels, or exactly how to make you scream.
This?” His hands roam, making me feel a little self-conscious for the first time since I stepped foot in the room.
“I know what you want me to call you, but you’re mine, Olivia Harris, and if I have my way, you’ll be desperate for my touch all day tomorrow while I sit behind you at the inauguration. "
“That! That’s what I’m talking about. One night for us to get this out of our system, then we need to pretend it never happened. That’s all we get.”
Isaac licks up my thigh, taking his time as he keeps his dark gaze fixed on me until his lips are exactly where I need him. It’s sensory overload, and I shut my eyes tight as I savor his talented tongue swirling around my now-throbbing clit. We can do this… I think.
He spreads me wide, dipping his tongue into my pussy—just once—before resuming to his torture. I try my best to stay present but struggle to form a single word. My toys at home are for efficiency. Isaac’s mouth? He’s claiming my cunt like it’s only his to play with. Maybe it always has been.
“Safe word,” he demands, murmuring against me.
“Um… I don’t know, ‘red’ works.”
“Good girl. ‘Red’ it is.” He presses two fingers inside me and bites down on the inside of my thigh, hard enough it’ll likely leave a mark. I cry out, writhing under his touch.
“Red?”
“No. I… I need you.” I don’t give a shit how desperate I sound—I need him inside me, right fucking now.
Isaac obliges, but not with his fingers, cock, or even his tongue. He sinks his teeth deeper into my flesh, drawing my sensitive skin into his mouth as he sucks hard. It’ll be a constant reminder of our night together for no less than two weeks. I love and hate it.
After a quick lick around the indented teeth marks, he warns, “If you want my cock, you need to admit you’re not just my ‘babygirl’ for a night. You’re mine, Livy.”
I could lie, feed into the fantasy that we could be more than whatever the hell this is.
It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. But would it really be a lie?
While we may have only had a few months together when we were younger, he’s always had a piece of my heart.
If things were different, and we truly had a real chance, I’d be seriously considering Canadian citizenship or beg for him to follow me back to California.
It doesn’t matter how many men I date, no one has or will ever compare to him.
And now I’m in his bed. I’d be an idiot to not hand myself over to him on a silver fucking platter.
Isaac was the first man I was with that I didn’t have to fake it, and I’m relieved that’s still the case as he continues building me up with his mouth and fingers as promised.
Since all I may be getting is a tongue lashing tonight, I may as well give in.
Finding a man who likes to eat is rare. But having my ex devour me like I’m the best meal he’s ever consumed?
It may never happen again. I grip the sheets for dear life to ground myself in the present.
As he adds a third finger, my vision blurs, and I shut my eyes tight, whimpering, “Just like that, don’t stop,” while I shamelessly grind my pussy against him.
He brings me right to the edge, moments away from coming, but then drives his fingers deeper and pauses all movement as he drags his mouth from me. “Isaac! What the fuck?”
“Didn’t I tell you that you come when I say you can come? You’re only giving me tonight to play with you, so I’m going to have a bit of fun. Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I sigh, internally screaming.
“Yes, what?”
I’m surprised he’s leaning into the honorific more than I anticipated. I blow out a deep breath, and keep my voice sweet as I reply, “Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s my girl.” Moving up my body, he presses a soft kiss to my lips, then slowly slides his fingers from me.
I’ve never been a fan of edging, so maybe I should’ve walked out after all; this is bullshit.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he explains, “and no matter what you see or hear, you’re going to stay right here and not touch yourself.
If you’re my good girl, then I’ll play with that sweet, tight cunt of yours again.
But if you’re not… then you may need your safe word. ”
Isaac makes his way to the ensuite, leaving me speechless and more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life.
Once he’s out of sight, I’m torn between following his instructions and finding out exactly what would require me to use a safe word.
He leaves the door open, which only further confuses me. Is it an invitation? Or a test?