Chapter 17
Oliver
“Do you have to work today?”
Darius looks up, his chin digging into my torso while his hand draws patterns on my skin.
We’re lying in his bed, where we’ve been since moving here after kissing on the sofa for what felt like hours.
His hair is a mess, sticking up on one side and flat on the other where he’s had it pressed to my chest all night.
There’s a large uncovered window at one end of his room, letting in a muted glow where the sun is trying to push through heavy grey clouds.
“No, I have a few days off,” I say, tucking a hand behind my head and adjusting myself on the bed so I can get a better look at the man tucked against me. “What about you?”
Darius unfurls his body from my side, crawling up until he’s splayed on top of me, bracing himself with a hand on either side of my head.
“I have a shift at the coffee shop this afternoon. And I have to walk Ludo and Lenny after breakfast. But I’m free all morning.
” He gives me a salacious grin, and I lift my head and meet him in a short sweet kiss, his tongue dancing along the edges of my lips until it dips inside my mouth.
I couldn’t care less about morning breath, or the fact that we’re both still sweaty from last night’s activities, I will kiss this man every opportunity I get.
Our movements are soft and slow, not progressing into anything more, but still lighting me up inside in a way that is not purely sexual but is more a sense of rightness. Like this is where I belong. I moan when Darius pulls away and slides onto the bed next to me again.
“Will you stay with me today? You could walk with me to work later and come back here when I’m done?”
Tangling my hand in his hair, I tip his head up.
“Only if you promise to make me a fancy ass latte.” There’s a tinge of fear creeping up inside of me at the thought of spending another night in his bed.
Not because I don’t want it, but because I do.
Far too much. I’m almost mad at myself for letting down my defences as quickly as I have for Darius, because I’m still so sure I’ll fuck this up and he’ll walk away. Or worse, he’ll ask me to leave.
The thought is pushed away when Darius presses his lips to the pulse point on my neck.
“Deal.” He looks up at me and smiles, and the result is breathtaking.
His eyes sleepy, his lips soft, his cheeks a rosy pink beneath those damn irresistible dimples.
“But let’s lay here a little longer before we start the day. ”
I relax into the bed and tell myself to enjoy the now and not worry about the what ifs.
Reminding myself that Darius has always seen me for who I am.
I was never pretending with him and no matter how messy or wounded I am; he accepts me.
I don’t want what we’ve shared to be fleeting; I want more, and I get the feeling he wants that too.
Only, there’s one other thing playing on my mind as I stare down at him.
“Can I ask you something?”
Darius is tracing the words of my tattoo with one finger, his eyes locked onto the movement, but they meet mine when he says, “Sure.”
“Are you seeing anyone else?”
He pushes himself onto one arm, his body turned to the side so that his front touches my hip. “Why would you think that? Of course not.” His brow furrows. “Are you?” Darius puts a space between us, and I reach out and haul him back against me.
“No. There hasn’t been anyone since before I met you and since then, it’s only been you. Always you.” His body softens in my hold and he kisses the inside of the arm I have wrapped around him. “But I know you went on that date soon after we met.”
“And you’re wondering if I’m seeing him again?”
“I guess, yeah.”
He shakes his head. “No. It meant nothing – it was all my father’s doing.”
“What do you mean?”
Darius pulls out of my arms and rolls onto his back. I follow him onto his side of the bed, reversing the position we were in earlier so that my chin is on his chest.
“My father has this wild idea that he’ll marry me off to a Scandinavian prince or the heir to some billion pound company. Any union that will benefit him.”
“That seems…” I can’t think of the right word, but Darius finishes my thought for me.
“A bit much. I know. He means well, really he does. What you need to understand about my dad is that he grew up with very little. No money, some days no food, a single mother who worked hard to give her boys everything, but it was never enough.” Darius takes one of my hands in his, linking and unlinking our fingers as he talks.
“My father and my Uncle Robbie worked from the day they were legally old enough to work and eventually, they built the business into what it is today, with nothing but a dream and determination.”
“And what he has still isn’t enough?”
Darius shrugs. “It doesn’t seem so. But that’s the way in his world.
There is always more to own, more wealth to amass, more people to impress.
So, yeah, occasionally he sets me up on these ridiculous dates and I go along to humour him.
Sometimes I think he knows it’s pointless, but he still holds out this hope that one day I’ll meet ‘the one’ and that they’ll come with a bingo card of connections. ”
The strap of the pink camisole Darius put on before climbing into bed has slipped off his shoulder and I push it down further and kiss the curve of his neck.
“So you’ve never been even a little bit tempted?”
“To get married?”
“Yeah. Or to see if there’s something there between you and these random strangers. Maybe your dad is secretly a match maker. Your very own cupid.”
Darius laughs, then uses a hand in my hair to tug my face to his.
“Firstly, I’m twenty-six and I’ve been single since I started university.
I’ve never wanted to marry anyone. Secondly, all that’s come from these setups – besides the occasional good meal – is a handful of new friends and one awkward kiss.
I love my father, but he’s no cupid, and I’m certainly not letting him choose my partner for me. ”
“He won’t think I’m good enough for you,” I state, and the fact hangs heavily in the air between us.
I already have a pretty shit sense of self-worth – how can I not when my own parents didn’t deem me good enough to stand up for?
But knowing I’ll never have the approval of a man who clearly means so much to Darius stings.
“No. Probably not.” He kisses me, a chaste peck to my lips. “But you are everything I need and want, Ollie. When the time comes, he’ll see that. He’s ruthless in a boardroom, a tyrant in the business world, but he’s also a dad who wants to see his son happy.”
I hope he’s right, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s not and that I will never be accepted, no matter how much I love Darius.
Putting the thought aside, I kiss lower, licking across his collarbone, listening as his breath hitches before he uses an arm to pull me on top of him.
His legs part and I slip between them, my lower half on the bed, and my lips at eye level with his chest. I push up his cami and kiss every inch I can reach, pausing at the sunflower tattoo below his ribs.
He grabs the hem and pulls it over his head, throwing it onto the floor.
His skin is a sweet and salty mix under my lips and I can’t help steal another taste.
“Why a sunflower?” I kiss the black ink, waiting for a reply.
“Because roses are boring and predictable,” he jokes.
“Noted. I will never buy you roses. But still, why a sunflower?”
While I move my lips over his skin, Darius plays with my hair.
“I had this blanket as a kid – it had been my dad’s when he was younger – it was white with big yellow and green sunflowers on it.
I loved that blanket, took it everywhere with me until I was too old to need it.
I’d completely forgotten about it, until Darcey and I were looking through photos for my twenty-first birthday and we found a picture of me and my dad, the blanket tucked under my arm.
My dad’s not a cold man, but he’s serious.
Stoic. Reserved with his affection. But in that photo, we were both smiling.
They say sunflowers are a symbol of happiness, and that’s all I could see looking at it.
The next day, I went out and got this – the exact design as the ones on the blanket. ”
I hum, my breath ghosting his skin, which erupts in tiny goosebumps.
“It’s really pretty.” I kiss it again and then move further up his body until our noses touch, my hands on either side of the bed, caging him against the pillow.
“Like you. You’re really fucking pretty. And yellow is my favourite colour.”
“Yeah? Mine too.”
“Hmm, I wonder what else we have in common.”
Darius surges up and presses his lips to mine. “We both like kissing.”
“That’s true. I love kissing you. What else?”
“We both like documentaries.”
I shake my head. “Nope. I really don’t.”
His mouth falls open in surprise. “But you’ve watched hours of them with me.”
“I’ve watched them for you. But if I’m being honest, I mostly spend the time watching you. You wrinkle your nose when you’re getting annoyed with the show.”
“Stalker,” he jokes, a deep dimple appearing on his cheek. I press my lips to it.
“I like looking at you. What else?”
“We both think I look hot in lace.”
“Do we now?” Moving my hand from next to Darius’s head, I place it at his side, digging my fingers in until he’s wriggling on the bed, his laughter bubbling up as I add the other hand.
I tickle him until he’s breathless and swatting at my chest. In one swift move, I flip us, bringing his weight down on top of me, his legs falling to either side of my thighs.
“Are you fishing for compliments?”
Darius circles his hips, our erections covered by the thin fabric of our underwear rubbing together in a delightful dance that sends pulses of need through my body.
“Maybe.” He nips at my bottom lip and I move my hands to his ass, holding him down while using my grasp to increase the pressure between us.
“Hmm…want me to tell you that you’re beautiful, babygirl? That I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you?”
His forehead meets mine, and our eyes connect. His are dark, the blue of his irises swallowed up by his blown pupils. My hands settle on his lower back, not guiding him, just holding on as he chases his pleasure.
“Say it again.”
“I want you, babygirl.” I breathe the words over his lips, loving the way his body trembles under my palms. “These lips.” I hover my mouth over his.
“They’re so kissable. And this ass –” Sliding both hands beneath the waistband of his lace shorts, I palm his smooth, round globes.
“Flawless. God, you’re so fucking incredible. ”
Our hard cocks brush together when Darius swivels his hips, and with each word of praise I shower him with, his body moves with more urgency.
“Perfect. So perfect. Just like that, take what you need.”
He leans forward and captures my mouth, kissing me with a passion that sets my body on fire.
I meet him stroke for stroke, tongues warring, breath mingling, hands grappling.
I get his shorts down and he paws at mine, frustrated grunts passing his lips when he can’t get them all the way off.
I lift my hips to make it easier, shoving them down without dislodging Darius from my lap and then we’re both naked, skin on skin, heat on heat.
I touch every part of him I can reach – starting with his ass before moving to his lower back. I map the ridges of his spine, over his shoulders, into the grooves of his collarbone, along his neck and up to his face, where I take his cheeks in my palms and hold him still.
I love you. The words stick on my tongue, the fear that I’ll put myself out there and he will leave so ingrained in me I can’t force them out.
Darius moves his head, a subtle nod that says he knows.
He knows. Then we’re kissing again and nothing in the world can stop the need pouring from the two of us as we writhe and grind together.
Pre-cum spreads between us, easing the glide of our hot, hard cocks.
“More, Ollie,” Darius whines into my mouth, and I release his face and slip a hand between our bodies, seeking out our cocks.
His is longer than mine, but thinner in girth and I take us both in hand, wrapping my hand around us as best I can.
Darius does the same, his hand joining mine in creating a tight tunnel that we both thrust into.
We’re no longer kissing, just holding our mouths together as we hurtle towards the edge of the inevitable plummet.
“Come for me, babygirl.”
Darius whimpers, my name falling from his lips as his body shakes in my hold, his orgasm crashing over him.
He says my name again, this time louder, his voice thick with desire, and I can’t hold back.
My own release rockets through me with an intensity that steals the air straight from my lungs and I throw my head back on the pillow, my hips jolting as pleasure blasts out of me.
My skin tingles and muscles contract and yet, through it all, I don’t take my eyes off of Darius as he loses himself in pleasure.
His eyes are closed, his head tipped back and his bottom lip held tightly between his teeth.
He thrusts into our fists once, twice, and then a third time before collapsing on top of me, his body lax and sated.
I stare up at the ceiling, my hand still trapped between our bodies.
There’s this moment after the high of an orgasm, when the world becomes clearer, sharper. It’s a feeling I’ve experienced before, but never with the clarity with which it hits me now – I’d set the world on fire for this man. To protect him. To love him. To keep him.
And fuck me, if that isn’t the most wonderful, terrifying thought ever.