Chapter 7 - Oliver
I’m going to lose my fucking mind. Scratch that.
I’ve already lost my mind. She wants me and whatever restraint I had unleashed itself as soon as she kissed me again.
I don’t care if I deserve her anymore. I know I don’t.
But she’s right here and I’m not going to lose her.
She’s going to know she’s safe from now on.
That she can depend on me. That she doesn’t have to live her life afraid of people, because I’ll protect her no matter what.
I’m going to do everything I can to deserve her.
Until then, she’s staying here. She’ll be mine.
I’ll make sure of it. I’ll give her everything.
I’ve been hers from the moment I saw her.
It feels raw and possessive the way my body responds to hers.
“Honey, you don’t know what you just did.
You don’t know how difficult it’ll be to get rid of me.
Ever since I saw you last night, you’re all I think about.
I’m never going to be done with you. I’m not going to let you leave.
You’ve allowed me to think I can have you.
And that’s a dangerous mistake you made.
Now, you’ve got to deal with the consequences. ”
Her smile widens, a hint of mischievousness looming in her eyes.
I kiss her again, this time I grab her and pull her to my lap, needing her close.
She’s right on top of me, my cock straining against my jeans, I’m so fucking hard it feels I’m going to burst at any second.
She’s wearing a thin dress that’s working as an apron, it’s covered in paint and all I want is to take it off.
But it’s too soon. I want to savor her, like a piece of chocolate that lingers on my tongue until it melts completely.
She starts to shift, at first I think she’s just adjusting herself but no. She’s rubbing herself against me.
“Fuck, Miranda. You’re killing me.”
“I like this. I really like this.”
“Honey, use me. Use me to get off, I beg you. Rub against me, make yourself come. I want to watch you come.”
I plant a small kiss on her clavicle, trailing my mouth down slightly as she rubs herself on me.
“Oh, oh Oliver!” She moans against my chest as she quickens her pace, I match her pace, loving to feel her like this. She’s perfect. There’s not anywhere I’d rather be right now.
“Come for me, honey.”
She whimpers against me as she tenses up, the next second she drops her chest against mine and sinks into me.
“This was nice,” she slurs like she's drunk with pleasure.
My cock is still begging for release but my heart swells at her curvy body in my arms, the feel of her heart thumping against my chest. She feels so good nestled against me.
How difficult would it be to spend the rest of my life with her in my lap?
Because I don’t want her to move from here, ever. I’m completely obsessed. And in love.
When she raises her head, she gifts me with that smile of hers, a smile that makes me want to be a better man.
To not be this man who’s still hurting from his time in the military after all these years.
Hope fills every vein in my body, like she’s exorcising everything that’s bad, like she has the power to make it all go away.
Maybe she does. I just know I want to spend the rest of my life with her.
“What are you thinking?” Her cheeks are still tinted red from her orgasm and her voice is faint.
“How beautiful you are.”
“You really think I’m beautiful?”
“Anyone who looks at you would think you’re beautiful.”
“No one has ever made me feel like this before.” Her words come out slowly, like she’s afraid of what will happen once they’re out in the world.
But nothing she can say can make me leave, I already love her.
She traces one of the scars on my face, I flinch, not because of pain but because it reminds me how ugly I am with them.
“I’m sorry!”
“No, I’m just not used to people touching them. But you can touch them. I just don’t like them.”
“Why?”
“They remind me of the worst time of my life. And they’re ugly.”
She sits up. “I don’t think they’re ugly. I like them. They make you more mysterious.” She’s tracing another one now, the one that’s right near my lip.
“So you like mysterious men.”
“Maybe…? Or maybe I just like you.”
I close the small distance between our lips just so I can taste her again after this sincere confession. I pull her bottom lip, loving to see her melt against me. I can’t get enough, not when she’s moaning in my ear.
She stops abruptly. “I need to get back to work.”
“Of course. I’ll leave you to it.”
Her chaste kiss afterwards makes me feel even greedier to have her all to myself. Jealous of her paintings who get to spend hours with her, when I only get her lunch break.
“See you later?”
I nod.
“Just going to add some logs to the fireplace and I’ll leave.”
I should be capable of spending a few hours away from her, I’ve done it all my life. So why does it feel so hard now?