22. Chapter 22
“Hands on the wall, ass out, baby.”
Still cum-drunk, I hastily do as he says, spinning around, pressing my face against the cold tile as he spreads my cheeks apart.
He murmurs something about a beautiful hole, then swipes his tongue from my balls all the way to my puckered hole and back again.
My entire body tenses as he hits every nerve ending, causing me to rise on my tippy toes, goosebumps prickling my skin.
My dick aches, hanging between my legs, and my balls pull up tight. “Oh, God, I need to come,” I say.
“Not yet, baby, hold on. I’m not done tasting you.” He sounds filthy and desperate with need .
Sweet fuckity-fuck. The sound of his voice makes my cock jerk as he continues to assault my ass. The swirl of his tongue around my hole has my legs shaking.
“Looks like this might be embarrassingly quick for the both of us,” I say, barely able to hold on.
He dives back in with his tongue, and my ass pushes back, impaling itself on his tongue, causing me to let out a strangled cry. Olly continues to eat and suck like a starved man.
He slides down, taking my balls in his mouth. They pull up tight, full, and aching. “I need you to touch me. I can’t hold on any longer.”
I send up a silent prayer of thanks when he doesn’t make me wait. His hand wraps around my weeping cock, and it only takes a pump or two before my release hits the shower wall and slides down the tile, his tongue still buried deep in my ass.
“Holy fuck!” I say, gasping for breath, my legs all but giving out.
“Holy fuck is right,” Olly pants in my ear. “Your ass is perfection.”
We stay just like this for a while, basking in the afterglow, before the water turns cold.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before we develop the other kind of blue balls,” Olly says, nuzzling my neck.
I laugh. “Yes, please.”
We exit the shower, and Olly hands me a towel. We are quiet as we dry off, but sneak glances and small smiles in the mirror.
He takes my hand and leads me into his room.
“I have a pair of boxers you can wear… unless that’s too weird?” he asks.
“You just ate my ass like a Chinese buffet. I think I can wear your boxers.”
He tosses me a pair along with a shirt and I slip them both on .
“Are you hungry? I feel like I ate very little today,” Olly asks, pulling on his own pair of boxers and a shirt.
“I could eat something.”
We head into the kitchen. “Breakfast for dinner?” he asks.
“My favorite. You know I’m not much for eating at breakfast time, but breakfast for dinner is my jam.”
“Same. I rarely eat big, heavy breakfasts in the morning. I like something small, like a pastry, or fruit and yogurt.”
“Ew,” I say, scrunching up my face until he kisses it away. “Can I make you something?”
“You cook?”
“Hey, I’m not horrible. Well, I’m not great. But you’re always cooking for me. Let me do this. Breakfast I can do.”
“You mean I can sit and watch you serve me? How could I resist?”
“You don’t have to lift a finger, and I’ll even do it with my shirt off,” I say, pulling it over my head and tossing it at him as he takes a seat at the counter with a chuckle. This development will take bacon off the menu, but being ogled by Olly is worth the tradeoff.
I scour his fridge like I own the place, spotting a carton of eggs. That will work along with the loaf of bread sitting on the counter. Next, I open every cabinet looking for his spices. Of course, I get no help from Olly, who just sits back with a happy grin on his face, so I make sure to give my hips a little extra sway as I move about the kitchen.
“Ah ha!” I say when I finally find the right one. “Holy shit, you have every spice known to man in here.”
Ha laughs. “Hello, I’m a baker.”
I turn and face him, hands on my hips, eyebrow raised .
“Fine… and cook.”
“Damn straight. Best crab tacos in a 200-mile radius?”
He guffaws. “What? Not in all the world?”
We both laugh. “French toast okay?”
“My favorite.”
“Mine too,” I say.
I get to work on scrambling the eggs. I sigh, feeling content. Everything is just so easy with Olly. The truth is, it’s always been, even when we bickered all the time. Well, we still do, but there’s a lot more sexual tension behind it.
Just the other day, we got into a fight about what to get Mazie. Olly wanted to get her a cute dress with ruffled bottoms, and I wanted to get her a trench coat.
I add some cinnamon to the eggs, then hunt for a pan.
“You know, you’re really no help.”
“Hey, you said you were going to make me breakfast. I was to not lift a finger, remember?”
I finally find a pan and place it on the stove.
“My sister called the other day,” Olly says as I dip the bread into the egg mixture and place it in the pan. “I guess she has a photo shoot next month and will be in the States. She’s thinking about bringing her husband and my niece, Phoebe.”
I wrinkle my nose at that. “She’s like a baby, right?”
“She’s two.”
“Close enough.” I wave my hand dismissively.
“Anyway, since they will be in the States, they are going to come visit. I was thinking maybe… ”
“Oh, kinda like a meet-the-parents situation.” I swallow down. My heart beats rapidly as panic sets in. I’ve never met the parents before, like ever.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Olly says, coming around the counter from where he was sitting. “You don’t have to. It was just a thought,” he says, turning my chin so I look at him.
“No, I want to. I really do. It’s just that… I’ve never met anyone’s family before. What if she doesn’t like me? And we already know how Phoebe’s gonna feel about me.”
He laughs. “You’re too freaking cute.”
“Shut up,” I say, trying to hide my grin by concentrating on flipping the French toast.
“They are going to love you, Jasper. Just like I do. How can they not?” he says, kissing my cheek.
There’s that word again. It doesn’t feel weird, but maybe just different? But as it settles deep in my soul, it takes root.
“Okay,” I say softly. “I would love to meet them.”
He kisses my cheek again before rounding the counter and sitting back down.
I add a few more pieces to the pan before rummaging through his refrigerator again to find us something to drink. I grab a couple glasses and pour us each some orange juice. Once I have everything plated, I set it down in front of him.
“I hope you like it,” I say, taking a seat. “It’s the only thing I know how to make.”
He laughs, “I’m pretty sure it’s going to be great; you added cinnamon. ”
“Who doesn’t like cinnamon French toast?” He nods and we clink forks in agreement. “Did you always know you wanted to be a baker?” I ask Olly, curious about how he went from cooking greasy diner food to baking.
“Not really,” he says. “I mean, at first, I just wanted to try something different from working the grill like I had been doing ever since I started working in The Diner as a kid. By then, my grandmother had passed, and I thought it would be a cool way to feel close to her, by learning the thing she loved to do. Then I realized that baking did something for me and complemented the things I needed to calm my brain. I always thought it would be a side hobby, nothing I would make a living on because I had The Diner.”
He takes a bite and moans, making my cock twitch and I have to bite back my own moan. “What about you? Did you always want to be a tattoo artist?”
I look down at my plate, thinking about how to answer. Did I want to always be a tattoo artist? No, does it host part of my love for art? Yes. “No, I didn’t want to be a tattoo artist. I always knew I wanted to draw or paint, and I didn’t know how to do that, because who can make a living out of that? But it was actually Marcus who planted the seed that I could do the same thing with tattooing.”
“Have you ever thought about selling your art? You’re really talented, Jasper. Your pieces should hang in galleries.”
“No,” I scoff. “I’m not that good. It’s just a way for me to get my emotions out.”
“That’s not all it is. You’re amazing. Every single person who looks at your work knows that. ”
I take a bite of my food, wanting to pat myself on the back because of how good it tastes. “There’s a local art gallery a couple of towns over. I thought about contacting them to see about showing some of my paintings, but I’m not sure I should do it.” My art has always been a hard thing to explain. It’s personal. It’s always been something just for me. I don’t know if I want the world to see it… yet.
Well, fuck maybe I do.
“You should do it. I mean, it won’t hurt to try one gallery. There are millions out there, and someday, somewhere, one of them will see what you’re worth. And in the meantime, we all get the privilege of having your ink on our skin. Well, except for me,” he chuckles.
I grab his hand, skating my fingers up his arm. “Have you ever wanted a tattoo?”
“Yes and no,” he says, turning toward me. Not ready to let go, I allow my fingers to continue their delicate dance over the blank canvas of his skin.
“I do, but I’m afraid it will hurt,” he says sheepishly. “Plus, there’s that whole thing about picking something permanent to tattoo on my body.”
“Maybe a cupcake.”
He laughs. “Yeah, maybe a cupcake.” I let go of his hand as he goes back to scarfing down his food. “This French toast is amazing. You will now be forced to make me breakfast every morning.” He freezes and for a moment, so do I. “I mean, not that I think you’ll be here every morning. You have a life outside of work and me,” he fumbles. “You know what? Forget I just said anything. Anyway, this was delicious,” he says, getting up and putting his plate in the sink.
I follow .
When he turns around, I wrap my arms around his neck. “Are you asking me to move in, Olly?”
His cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink. “What? God no. I mean, no, that would be silly.”
I know that’s not what he’s asking, and it would be silly, but still. “I wouldn’t mind waking up to you every morning or falling asleep next to you every night.”
Olly inhales sharply. I have to admit those words surprise even me. There’s a lot of that going on tonight. And I don’t feel like running for the hills.
“How about we start with a couple drawers, and in the meantime, you can take your sweet-ass time fucking me again tonight?”
“Jesus, Jasper.”
I push my hips forward so he can see the effect he’s had on me all night, which in return makes him grab my ass and encourage my rutting. “Take me to bed, Olly.”
He wastes no time grabbing my hand and dragging me down the hallway. Everything turns fast and frantic in the blink of an eye. Once we’re in the bedroom, it’s a flurry of grabby hands and flying clothes. Naked, we fall into bed.
Olly slides back, resting up against the backboard. As I crawl up his body, kissing and sucking as I go. He fists my hair and I savor the delicious pull.
Once I reach his lips, I let out a whispered, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Olly replies.
I rise on my knees above him and take him in a blistering kiss. His hands roam my body before he reaches around, grabbing my ass, squeezing and pulling. He moves his hips beneath me so I can feel his hard cock, telling me he’s ready to go.
Our shafts slide up against each other, our precum mixing, making our cocks slick.
“Are you gonna ride me, Jasper? Are you gonna slide down my cock and ride me?”
“Oh, god, yes, that. I want, I want to,” I say, feeling desperate, wanting to ride his hard cock. His fingers circle the tender skin around my hole.
“Is this where you want me? Here?” Holy shit, again with bedroom Olly for the win. I’m fucking here for it.
“Yes, stop teasing and get to work,” I complain.
Olly reaches over and pulls out a bottle of lube and a condom from the nightstand.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I wanna feel you bare.”
“Are you sure? I get tested regularly.”
“So do I. Marcus would flip if I didn’t.”
“Okay,” he says, and I go back to attacking his face and thrusting my hips like a slut in heat.
I don’t know how he does it, but he manages to slick up his fingers and I gasp at the cold sensation when he touches my hole.
He chuckles. “Sorry.”
Olly plays my hole like a string quartet before he slowly pushes one finger in. He kisses down my neck, then my chest, and all the while his finger slides in and out, delicately searching for that one spot.
As soon as he takes my pierced nipple in his mouth and gives it a gentle bite, he hits my prostate. I let out an unruly groan at the dual sensation, everything building; the pressure, the need .
“Give me more,” I beg. I’m not above begging. Not with Olly.
“Look at you, so eager for me, baby.”
“Yes, I want you. I need you in me.”
He adds a second finger, stretching, scissoring. It’s a wonderful mix of pain and pleasure.
“Almost there, baby. I want you good and ready for me.”
“Jesus fucking Christ! Where did this dirty-talking Olly come from?”
He laughs. “I’ve always been here. I was just waiting for you to unlock the cage.”
He continues hitting my prostate as he works me higher and higher.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I had the key,” I say, barely able to get the words out between labored breaths. “I’m ready. I’m ready. I need to sit on your cock… now .”
He holds the base of his cock as I line up and slowly slide down his length like a damn fireman’s pole. Then I throw my head back in ecstasy, and we both groan.
“Oh, you’re so tight. God, baby, you’re so tight. I don’t know if I’ll be able to last. It’s always embarrassingly quick with you. It’s like my body can’t hold back. I have no control and the only thing that does is your sweet ass.”
I bounce up and down, riding him like a damn cowboy. His words electrify me. My cock bounces, slapping against my stomach.
“Oh, yeah, that’s it, just like that. Oh, I can feel you so deep,” I say as he meets me thrust for thrust. He grips my chest, pinching my pierced nipples as I swivel my hips and grind down on his cock.
“I’m gonna come, Jasper. ”
“I’m right there, so close. Jack me.” I hear the snap of the lube bottle again before his slick hands wrap around my aching cock. I shiver at the sensation. Before I even have time to warn him, I throw my head back with a feral cry as my cock throbs and releases ropes of cum across his chest.
“That’s it, baby. Come for me. Fuck yourself on my cock. Use it for your pleasure.”
Oh, fuck. My body gives one last shudder at his words.
Before I even know what’s happening, Olly pulls out and flips us around. I’m on my hands and knees as he slides back into me with a low moan.
“This is going to be quick, baby.”
“Do it. Fill me. I want to feel you.” He sets a punishing pace, hitting my overly sensitive prostate again and again. A few hard thrusts later, I feel the heat of his release coating my insides as he chants my name.
Olly falls to the side, chest heaving. “I love you,” he says.
I look at him, still covered in my drying release. “Fuck, I love you too.”