Chapter 7 Cydney
cydney
I’m gone. Obliterated. There is zero left of me except for a shaking, whimpering, Oliver-fueled mess.
He eats me like I’m the world’s best-tasting dessert.
His talented tongue works me mercilessly while his fingers stroke me with an intensity that shouldn’t be legal.
My body isn’t just climbing the mountain.
It’s doing Olympic-level pole vaults over the top.
Every stroke, every suck on my clit, every filthy growl vibrating my thighs sends me closer to the edge.
The world explodes around me, and I scream his name while my hips buck up into his face like I can’t get enough, except I literally can’t take another second. My head slams back, fingers sinking so deep in his hair I’m practically yanking it out by the roots.
“Oliver, I—” I can’t even finish the thought.
He doesn’t stop. Not for a microsecond. He keeps lapping with his greedy tongue while his hands hold me down for him to devour every bit of me.
When I finally stop seeing stars, he looks up at me, mouth wet, eyes blazing with a hunger that honestly should come with a parental advisory.
“Perfect,” he snarls, voice deep and rough. “Fucking perfect. You’ve got no idea how good you taste, Cydney.” His lips are slick with me, his fingers still idly stroking circles over my clit like he’s winding me up for round two.
I try to sass back, but all that comes out is a strangled moan and a desperate gasp for air. “Wow, you’re good at that,” I whisper, because it’s true. My heart’s pounding, my legs are jelly, and I’m a million percent ruined.
The next thing I know, Oliver’s stripping off his jeans with a savagery that sends my pulse into the stratosphere. Holy cow. My mouth actually drops open.
He kicks his jeans away so hard they hit the wall. His cock is already thick and heavy, standing straight up, and the sight of him nearly sends me into orbit all over again.
My brain short-circuits. That cock is every filthy fantasy I’ve ever had, thick and long, tip flushed and ready, veins popping along the shaft.
For a split second, I almost lose my nerve, but then I catch how he’s staring at me.
He comes down over me, caging me in with those big arms, eyes blazing like he’s about to eat me alive.
I’m not scared. Not even a little. My body is basically rolling out the red carpet and throwing confetti. I want everything he’s got.
“Look at you,” he growls, voice rough and hungry as he runs his hands over my thighs, up my waist, everywhere at once. “So fucking beautiful and all mine, aren’t you?”
God help me, I’m nodding so fast my neck might snap. “Yes. Yours. All yours.”
I sound like I’ve lost my damn mind, but honestly, my brain checked out five minutes ago.
He scoops me up without warning, one big arm under my back and the other hooked under my knees. It’s not a gentle, floaty princess-carry—it’s pure caveman, all muscle and intent, and I practically squeak as my naked body leaves the couch.
Holy hell. I’ve never been manhandled like this before, but with Oliver, it’s freaking perfect.
My heart does Olympic-level gymnastics as he storms down the hallway, every step jarring my tits and sending a zing straight between my legs.
He’s focused with dark eyes locked on my face, like he’s already picturing all the ways he’s about to ruin me.
I cling to his shoulders, and my breath stutters as the rest of me goes full ragdoll. The door to his bedroom swings open, and the next thing I know, I’m on his bed, sprawled across cool, expensive sheets, waiting for what comes next.
I have a feeling I won’t be waiting long. He grabs my hips like he’s worried I’m going to disappear on him. The look in his eyes is pure, feral possession. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”
Well, who am I to argue with the world’s sexiest caveman? I open for him, my heart doing triple time while he lines himself up, cock straining and ready, nudging at my entrance. I don’t even try to be cool. I’m too busy panting, desperate, clutching his biceps so hard my fingers might leave marks.
“God, you feel so good,” he rasps as he slides an inch inside me. There’s nothing gentle about it, and I don’t want gentle. I want this. Him. All of him. He slowly fills me up so deeply my jaw drops as pain flashes down my spine. For a second, I can’t breathe. Holy hell, he’s huge.
My muscles go tight, and my nails bite into his biceps.
For a split second, I think there’s no way he’s going to fit, but Oliver doesn’t stop.
He presses deeper, splitting me open inch by inch, and I swear my brain flashes white.
My hips jerk up, greedy for every bit. There’s nothing gentle about this.
It’s wild and desperate and exactly what I want.
I must make some kind of strangled noise because Oliver’s face twists into a feral, satisfied grin. His fingers dig into my hips, holding me in place while he bottoms out, pushing so deeply I swear I taste stars.
“Shit, you’re perfect around me,” he groans, and his hips snap forward, making me cry out. “You were fucking made for me, Cydney.”
All I can do is hang on for dear life as he starts to move, slow at first, just to tease me, then harder, rougher, until all bets are off.
“Oh my God!” The words rip out of me, way too loud, but I can’t even pretend to care. Every thrust is deeper, harder, making me feel every single desperate, possessive inch of him. He pistons into me, rough and hungry, and holy HELL, I’m in love.
He’s got my hips caged tight, thumbs digging in, and every move is just… relentless. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can only feel. My spine bows off the mattress, and he drives in deeper, hitting that spot that makes my toes curl and my brain fizzle.
I’m a goner. “Come for me.” My body listens before my brain even catches up.
The pressure inside me snaps, and I explode, shrieking his name so loud I’m worried the neighbors are going to file a noise complaint tomorrow.
Every muscle in my body locks tight, toes curling so hard I might actually pull a cramp, and pleasure rips through me in a tidal wave that just won’t quit.
Oliver doesn’t stop. Not even close. He fucks me right through that orgasm and into another one while he holds me down, driving in deeply, relentlessly, every stroke making me wilder, louder, more desperate.
My legs lock around his waist, and I’m clinging for dear life, nails digging into his shoulders like I’m afraid he’ll disappear if I let go. Spoiler: I’m never letting go.
The sound coming out of me is straight-up animalistic.
He grunts, savage and hoarse, and pounds into me with an insane rhythm that makes me see actual constellations.
Holy crap, he’s not holding back, not even a little.
Every thrust leaves me gasping, arching up, desperate to get closer, but Oliver’s got total control.
He’s so deep it’s like he’s branding me from the inside out.
“Mine,” he grits, hips slamming into me like he’s trying to ruin me for every other man on the planet. Joke’s on him—I was ruined the second I saw him smirk over a cinnamon roll.
“Yours.” I barely get the words out, but it doesn’t matter.
He knows exactly what I need. He fucks me deeper, faster.
I can’t even breathe. I’m just gasping, screaming, clawing at his back while he pounds me into the mattress like he’s staking his claim.
My pussy clamps down on him, hard, and I shatter all over again, my vision going white as another orgasm blasts through my body. Holy hell, I’m actually seeing stars.
“Fuck, that’s it, come on my cock,” Oliver snarls, his voice hot and desperate in my ear. The words set me off, and my body goes nuclear, locking around him so tightly I can’t even move. I scream his name, wailing like I’m about to break in half, and that’s when he loses it.
He slams deep, brutal, and explodes inside me with a rough groan, his cock pulsing as I milk every last drop from him.