Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
BETH
I remain latched to Ollie’s body, my legs around his waist, as he walks us through the garage door and into my house, the same place we have been hooking up regularly.
It’s become our place, one full of memories of the two of us that cover up all the bad ones with my mother.
Ollie slams into the kitchen table, dropping me onto the surface, and my hands rush for his belt, working the leather out of my way. He rips my shirt down the middle and pushes it off my shoulders before biting and licking the exposed skin.
My jaw slacks and I moan. I should be ticked off that he just destroyed one of my favorite shirts, but the way he did it was sexy as fuck. How could I be mad at that?
Then, the annoying shrill of my phone interrupts us.
God-fucking-dammit.
Nope, not happening.
I rip it from my pocket and drop it to the floor. I don’t know what happened, but the ringing stops and that’s a blessing. Nothing could pull me away from this.
“No one important?” he rasps in my ear and I smile to myself.
“No more important than this,” I respond, my voice just as low as his.
“Good. I need your pussy right now,” he growls before shoving down his pants and boxers. He yanks me until my body is flat against the table, my knees pulled over his hips, as he thrusts hard into me. No preparation, no hesitation, and completely full of need.
Arching my back, I scream from the mixture of pain and pleasure, so impossibly full of him. Then, his hand wraps around my throat, pinning me in place.
“Be careful, princess. You might scare the neighbors,” he taunts as he thrusts into me again, the same cocktail pumping through my veins.
Pain and pleasure mingle together as he fucks me.
“Like you care what my neighbors will think. Oh, fuck!” I moan as he slams into me so hard I feel him at the top of my scalp and all the way up my spine. God, it hurts so good.
I live for the pain he gives me, stretching me in a way only he can.
“Tell me,” he growls before smacking the side of my thigh, leaving a pink silhouette of his fingers. “Who’s pussy is this?”
“Yours!” I cry out, digging my nails into the wooden surface below me.
“Oh, yeah? All mine?”
“All yours,” I rasp. “It belongs to you.” All of me does. I don’t know if he doesn’t realize that or what. I’ve made myself clear already.
I want him. I want us. The ball is in his court, but I’ll sure enjoy the high of him for as long as he wants me.