Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
OLLIE
I don’t know if I’ve ever been more satisfied than I am at this very moment, driving back to my dorm, a fuming Silas Taters next to me.
He thought he could just charge into my dorm, demand I join him, threaten me if I don’t, then expect everything to be okay?
Ohhhhhh no.
Not this girl.
I knew going into this event with him that I would have to be reserved in what I said. Frankly, these are networking opportunities for me as well, and making a fool out of myself is not the best idea. But I knew if I turned up the heat, I could teach our friend Silas a lesson.
And I did.
I can tell he’s ready to snap from his grip on the steering wheel and the tightness in his jaw.
Guess what, Silas? You deserve it.
Don’t fuck with me.
When we pull up to my dorm, I get ready to hop on out, but when he doesn’t swing to the front of the building and parks instead, a light trickle of sweat forms on my upper lip.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond.
He exits the car, walks over to my side, and opens my door. He then undoes my seat belt and takes me by the hand, helping me out of the car.
Uh-oh.
Once he shuts the door, he holds on to my hand tightly as if he’s afraid I might take off and maintains his hold all the way up to my dorm. When we reach my door, I turn to him and say, “Well, thanks for walking me up here, but you can go now.”
Without a sound, he takes my clutch, opens it up, and pulls out my key. He unlocks the door, parts it open, and says, “Get in. Now.”
Okay, so you remember when I was feeling fully satisfied like five minutes ago? That feeling has completely vanished as I walk into my dorm, Silas following closely.
The door closes, and I feel my body still, ready to see what he’s going to do next.
He sets my clutch down on the desk before coming up behind me, his chest firm against my back. He dips his head so his lips are right next to my ear. Chills race up my arms from his heady proximity.
“Did you have fun tonight?” he asks in a menacing tone as his hand travels up my back until it reaches the nape of my neck. “Fucking around with my cock, trying to make me hard?”
“I didn’t have to try,” I say.
Not sure why I decide to poke the bear, but I do.
Unhappy with my response, he moves me up against the wall. His large, muscular chest eclipses my back, and the only reason my face isn’t pressed into the white paint in front of me is because my hands are bracing my body.
“It wasn’t fucking funny,” he says, his tone clear. He’s ready to snap.
I swallow hard. “Sorry to say, but you said nothing about not turning you on.”
“It’s in the fucking contract,” he virtually spits. “We don’t do that.”
“We don’t fuck. Nothing says we can’t tease,” I say, unable to stop myself from mouthing off.
“Is that in the fine print?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer just as his hand finds the zipper to my jumpsuit.
“Good to know,” he says in such a sly, knowing voice that I fear what he’s about to do.
With one hand on my waist, keeping me in place, he slides the zipper of my outfit down until my back is exposed. His body is so close that I can feel his body heat against mine.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Helping you,” he says as he lowers the sleeves on my jumpsuit down my arms, and for some reason, I assist him and let them fall all the way off, only to brace myself against the wall again, this time, my breasts exposed since I wasn’t wearing a bra.
He slides his hands along my bare sides and then pushes my jumpsuit down the rest of the way, leaving me in only my thong.
I squeeze my eyes shut, telling myself I know what he’s doing.
He’s trying to get back at me for what I did at the party.
It’s clear as day. The easy thing to do would be to tell him to leave.
To turn around and put space between us.
But I don’t seem to open my mouth, and I don’t seem to find it within me to step away from him.
Instead, I allow him to come up behind me and move his hand along my bare stomach.
“You liked fucking with me tonight, didn’t you?” he asks, his thumb trailing up my stomach.
I bite the side of my mouth.
“I was impressed you held it together.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to hold it together?” he asks as his hand moves south to the waistband of my thong. I suck in a sharp breath as his finger runs along the elastic. The soft touch sends zing after zing of arousal down my legs and up my stomach. “Or do you think you’ll crack?”
With his other hand, he slips it under the strap of my thong at my waist and holds me tight against his chest with his large, calloused hand. He drags his other hand up my stomach, just below my aching breasts. I want him to touch me.
I want him to touch me all over.
I suck in a sharp breath just as his thumb knocks against the underside of my breast, sending me into a tailspin of need.
“Fuck,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear me.
But as his grip on my waist grows tighter, I know he did.
His scruffy jaw rubs against my smooth cheek as he swipes his thumb against my breast again.
I grind down on my teeth, telling myself I won’t moan. Not for him, not when he’s trying to prove a point.
But when he does it again, this time closer to my nipple, I exhale sharply and lower my forehead to the wall.
I can practically feel his smile of satisfaction as he moves his hand back down my stomach, causing it to hollow out as he brings his fingers to the edge of my thong and slowly slides them under.
Fuck me.
I want it.
I want him.
I want his fingers inside me.
His cock.
His mouth.
I back my hips up into his pelvis, and I’m fully satisfied to feel him hard. He might be torturing me, but at least he’s torturing himself as well.
“You know you want me,” I say. “I’ve been feeling it all night.”
He doesn’t answer. He removes his hand from my thong and proceeds up my stomach again. This time, he runs his hand over my breast, barely caressing my nipple, and goes all the way up until he’s gripping my throat.
A wave of arousal hits me so hard that I know if he just touched me once, I’d come. That’s how turned on I am. That’s how much he owns me at this moment.
That’s why I’m falling into the way he plays with me.
Holding my neck tight, he whispers, “Swallow.”
Unsure of what’s going on, I do as he says, and I swallow.
He lightly moans into my ear and says, “That’s what it would feel like if my dick was in your mouth. But you would take me deep, wouldn’t you?”
“Y-Yes,” I say.
His hand on my waist now twists around to the front and slides to the spot just above my slit.
Right now, with him gripping my neck, toying with me in a way that has me so hot and bothered that I feel like I could explode, I know he owns me.
I might have played with him earlier, but that was nothing compared to what he’s doing to me now.
“Ask for it,” he says, his lips running along my cheek.
“Ask for what?” I say, barely able to breathe from my pounding heart.
“What you want.” He slides his fingers even closer, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Fuck I want it.
So badly, I’m willing to put aside all of the frustration, the contract, and the entire night, just to come on his hand.
“Touch me,” I whisper.
“Where?” he asks.
I swallow again, and he hums in approval. “Everywhere,” I answer just as he growls and slides his finger down my slit.
“Soaking,” he says as his finger connects with my clit.
“Yes,” I moan and rest my head against his shoulder. “Fuck me with your fingers.”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” he says, his voice turning menacing again, and before I can reply, he removes his hand and releases me.
I fall into the wall, empty, cold . . . unsatisfied.
I stand there, stunned, panting . . . in need of release so bad that I place my arm over my breasts to conceal them and turn around to face him.
“You prick,” I say. “I never pushed you that far.”
He drags his hand over his mouth as his eyes trail down my body. “I told you not to fuck with me.”
He moves past me and heads toward the door. “Is this all some kind of game to you?” I ask, walking down the hallway as well, keeping my breasts covered because he doesn’t deserve to see them.
“You made it a game tonight,” he says, turning on me.
“I made it a game?” I ask. “You’re the one who threatened me tonight and forced me to join you.”
“I wouldn’t have had to force you if you had abided by the contract.”
“You didn’t even need my help anyway. I saw the way you were sitting so intimately with Sarah.”
His eyes turn murderous as he says, “I told her to get the fuck away from me. What part of that don’t you understand?”
“The part where you allowed her to touch your inner thigh. And why did you even need me there? I was useless.”
“You were anything but useless,” he yells.
“Prove it. What could I have possibly offered—”
“A shield,” he yells. “You were my goddamn shield. I don’t want to be around Sarah, I don’t even want to be near her, especially since Posey said she’s trying to win me back.
” He takes a deep breath and pulls on the back of his neck.
“I don’t . . . I don’t want her knowing she has a chance.
That’s what you’re for. That’s what this was all about.
It’s not my goddamn fault that you’re using me a different way, a way to get ahead. ”
My eyes narrow. “I told you I wasn’t going to do that article. Jesus, Silas. Are you even listening to yourself?”
“Are you listening to yourself? Fuck, Ollie. I told you I don’t want Sarah. If I want anyone at this fucking point, it’s you.” Frustrated, he growls out an angry “Fuck” before he heads toward the door again.
“Wait,” I say, running up to him and standing in front of the door.
In a defeated voice, he says, “Move.”
“No, I’m not going to let you leave like this.”
“Oliana,” he says, unable to look at me. “Just let me go.”