Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Lucian: Spending the weekend in New York with the fam.
Try not to miss me too much, Doc.
Olivia: I’ll survive.
Lucian: Will you, though?
What if you need something?
Olivia: I won’t.
Lucian: You sound very sure of that.
Olivia: I am.
Lucian: Mmm.
So confident. I like it.
But hypothetically .
. .
Olivia: No hypotheticals, Crawford.
I have plenty of wine and the house all to myself.
You don’t affect me.
Maybe I’m even tipsy enough just to let you talk shit without even bothering.
Lucian: Hypothetically, what if a pipe bursts?
What if Pete starts using the wrong materials and you don’t realize it until your house starts leaning to one side?
Olivia: Then I’ll deal with it like a grown adult.
Lucian: What if Sarah gets lonely and needs a male role model?
Olivia: You have Sarah.
She’s with you right?
Did you leave her alone?
Oh my God, I knew you were irresponsible, but .
. . I’m breaking into your house and saving her.
Lucian: I’m kidding, she’s right here.
We just went on a walk to Central Park.
Olivia: You’re the worst.
Lucian: See, that’s my point.
What if you get lonely?
You don’t even have a dog to keep you company.
Olivia: What’s your endgame here?
Lucian: You’re all alone in that big empty house.
It’s late. The wind is howling outside.
You’re lying in bed, thinking about me .
. .
Olivia: I am not thinking about you.
Lucian: Oh, but you will be.
You’ll be curled up under the covers, missing my voice, my hands, my mouth .
. .
Olivia: I can't miss what I’ve never had. Spare me your texts and leave me alone.
Lucian: You can have them if you ask nicely.
Olivia: Not happening.
Lucian: Come on, sweetheart. Just a little “please, Lucian,” and I’ll show you precisely what you’re missing.
Olivia: I think I’ll pass.
Lucian: You think. But I bet you’re already picturing it. Me, standing behind you, my hands sliding down your arms, grazing your hips, pulling you back against me until you can feel exactly how bad I want you.
Olivia: I’m picturing a world where I never met you.
Lucian: Liar. I bet if I slipped into that bed with you right now, you wouldn’t push me away. You’d let me roll you onto your back, spread those gorgeous legs, and take my time tasting you.
Olivia: I . . .
Lucian: Slow strokes. My tongue circling that pretty little clit, teasing, dragging out every second until you’re gripping my hair, arching, begging me for more.
Olivia: Leave me alone.
Lucian: Tsk, tsk. That’s no way to talk to the man who could have you dripping for him in under a minute.
Olivia: Bold assumption.
Lucian: Not an assumption, sweetheart. It’s fact. You want me. You just like fighting it.
Olivia: You have serious issues.
Lucian: You have serious temptation right now.
Olivia: :ghost: emoji
Lucian: And there you go again, ghosting me. I’m about to set the scene.
Olivia: Don’t set any scene.
Lucian: In my scene, it’s actually your mouth that we put to good use. Do you want me to tell you more?
Olivia: No.
Lucian: We could have you on your knees. Right here, right now.
Olivia: Bold of you to assume I’d just drop for you.
Lucian: Oh, sweetheart. You wouldn’t just drop. You’d sink—slow and lingering, keeping eye contact the whole time. Teasing me with that pretty little mouth of yours, licking your lips like you know exactly what you’re about to do to me.
Olivia: Wow. Someone’s invested in this fantasy.
Lucian: Our future reality. It’s only a matter of time. I bet you’d start slow, kissing your way down my stomach, dragging your nails over my skin just to watch me tense up. I’d grab a fistful of your hair, guide you exactly where I want you. And when you finally wrap those lips around me? Fuck, Olivia. I’d lose my fucking mind.
Olivia: That’s cute. You think I’d let you be in charge?
Lucian: Oh, you want control? You want to tease me? Keep me right at the edge, pulling back every time I try to thrust deeper.
Olivia: Now you’re catching on.
Lucian: You wanna use that perfect fucking mouth to wreck me? Run your tongue over the tip, swirl it just right, but never let me have all of it?
Olivia: Hypothetically speaking.
Lucian: Nah, there’s nothing hypothetical about the way you’re squirming right now, sweetheart. I bet your thighs are clenched tight. I bet your fingers are gripping the sheets, wondering what it’d feel like to have my cock heavy on your tongue, my hands fisting your hair, my voice telling you how fucking good you are while I fight not to lose control.
Olivia: Have I ever told you that you have a filthy mouth and a dirty imagination?
Lucian: And you love it. Don’t even try to deny it, Liv.
Olivia: I think you just like hearing yourself talk.
Lucian: Oh, sweetheart. I’d rather hear you. Moaning, panting, begging me to fuck you precisely the way you need.
Olivia: Bold of you to assume I’d beg.
Lucian: Oh, you would. Maybe not at first—you’d fight me a little, keep up that filthy mouth of yours, but once I have you where I want you? Once I have you spread out, dripping, aching for me? You’ll be gasping: please, Lucian. Before I even slide my cock inside you.
Olivia: You’re assuming a lot, but keep it coming. This is entertaining.
Lucian: I just know how to read you, baby. And right now? I know you’re tipsy. I know you’re feeling bold. And I know—fuck, I know—you’d let me ruin that smart mouth of yours if I were there.
Olivia: Maybe I’d be the one ruining you.
Lucian: Oh? You think you can handle me?
Olivia: Pleaseeee. I know I can. I eat men like you for breakfast. You want to know what I would do with you . . . boy? I’d drop to my knees right in front of you, watching the way your jaw clenches when I run my fingers down your stomach, teasing, getting closer and closer.
Lucian: Fuck, Liv.
Olivia: I’d look up at you, all innocent-like, just to see you fucking lose it before I drag my tongue over the tip of your cock. Just the tip at first. Just enough to make you groan, to make your hands twitch at your sides because you’re trying so hard not to grab my hair and shove me down deeper.
Lucian: You are playing with fire right now.
Olivia: Am I? I thought I was following your little fantasy.
Lucian: Sweetheart, the second you wrap those lips around me, it stops being a fantasy.
Olivia: Yeah? What happens then?
Lucian: Then I fist your hair, tilt your head just the way I like, and fuck that pretty little mouth of yours until you’re gagging on me. Until your nails are digging into my thighs, tears in your eyes, because you love taking me deep.
Olivia: You think I’d just let you do that?
Lucian: Oh, no, baby. I think you’d fucking love it. You’d let me use you, fuck your throat raw, and when I pull back, dragging my cock along your tongue, you’d look up at me all wrecked and desperate, just waiting for me to shove it back in.
Olivia: Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t be in control.
Lucian: Oh, you wanna be the one in charge? Fine. Let’s see how long you last before you break. Before I have you splayed out, legs shaking, my cock buried deep in that soaking wet cunt while you beg me to retake control.
Olivia: You keep talking, but I think you’re all bark and no bite.
Lucian: Sweetheart, the things I’d do to you? You wouldn’t survive them.
Olivia: Try me.
Lucian: Oh, baby, I intend to. Pack your bag. Get in the car. And be fucking ready for me.
Lucian: Liv, are you there?
Lucian: Liv?
Lucian: You can’t leave me like this, hard and needy.
Lucian: You’ll pay for teasing me like this.