33. Oliver
thirty-three
oliver
Penn
You remember where Syd lives?
?
Get there asap.
By ‘ASAP’ I assumed he meant an emergency. As soon as possible. 9-1-1. But I jog up to her brownstone, and the lights on her third-floor apartment are off.
And my teammate is sitting on the steps out front.
He tosses me something, clicking his tongue.
I catch the keys.
Sydney’s keys. God knows she’s fumbled with them enough in front of me. I stare passively at Penn, waiting for the punchline.
The last time I saw her was in the locker room, after the gut-wrenching kiss that made me question how I ever kissed any girl before her. Ever. I’ve had a low opinion of kissing since high school—too wet, too eager, too much tongue—and no one had been able to dissuade me from that line of thinking. No one but her.
Because god-fucking-damn, her lips are perfect. The first time I saw her, it was her silver eyes that burned into my brain. It made recognizing her at that SJU party too easy. But now her lips are the first thing that come to mind when I think of her.
Eyes are a close second.
Body follows.
“Three B,” Penn says. “Better hurry.”
“This isn’t an emergency you can help with?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. She was asking for you.”
I huff. He moves past me, heading for his car. I was at a party earlier tonight for like half a second, but it was lame. It was too superficial, with girls in the skimpiest costumes, twirling their hair or sticking out their assets. Some of my teammates soak that shit up. Others avoid the ragers.
While sometimes I go in search of a warm cunt to sink into, most times it’s a waste. I don’t want a drunk girl who can barely stand. I want…
Something else.
Something worse.
My cravings scare me sometimes. I’ve caught myself looking up proper ways to subdue a woman, to tie them in intricate knots that give them pleasure as much as it restricts them. I even went to a fucking class three towns over using a fake name.
It was interesting.
I definitely banked some knowledge and mental imagery to get me through the lonely weeks of summer when Framingham all but empties of college students.
One more year. Only one semester left, really. And then, against all the fucking odds, I’ll head to the NHL. Being drafted out of high school was a dream come true. Choosing to attend FSU for two years—mainly because of Walker and Coach Windsor—was one of the best decisions I could’ve made.
In that time, I’ve packed on muscle and learned to play against a higher caliber of teams. Another step that shapes the way I attack the game. And Coach, well, I’m not sure how I’d ever repay him for all he’s taught me.
Finally on the third floor, I push open the door to three B.
“Sydney?” I call.
It’s dark. I drop her keys on the counter and continue in, scanning the apartment. She doesn’t answer, and my concern spikes. I head straight for her bedroom, my phone already in my hand.
I don’t expect to find her naked.
Tied.
My heart stops.
Her heels slide against her sheets. The blankets are in a heap on the floor, kicked off by her or torn off by someone else. She’s writhing, seeming to not hear or see me. There’s a tie over her eyes, headphones on her ears. I’m not sure if it’s playing music or just canceling out the noise.
She’s trying to get friction, I think. She twists, rolling onto her stomach. Her hips move, her muscles flexing as she humps her bed. She seems desperate with it—and then the little spark of something extra between her ass cheeks catches my attention.
Fuck.
Who the fuck put a plug?—
There’s writing on her ass.
And more.
I go back to the door and flip on the light switch, and she flinches . Guess the light makes its way under the tie blindfold.
“Hello?” Her voice is breathy.
I don’t answer. She shifts onto her side, keeping her ass to the wall, and brings her legs up to her stomach. Like she’s suddenly shy, even though she knows it’s me.
Now’s not the time to hide.
Do I touch her? Does she actually know it’s me? Or is this some sick prank by Penn? I swear to God, if she says his name?—
“I know you’re there.”
Her arms are stretched out above her and connected to the headboard. I start there, running my finger just under it along the underside of her wrist. Where her skin is probably most sensitive, judging by how she keeps intermittently pulling and releasing.
She shudders.
My fingers drag down her arm, light enough to tickle. She has goosebumps. Down her arm, armpit, side. Along the outer edge of her breast, the bumps of her ribcage. Her breathing comes fast and shallow when I reach her waist, then her hip. I press, and she gives with the pressure. She rolls on her stomach, burying her face in her arm.
Carter is cut into her skin. It’s scabbed over, but the lines all look smooth cut and shallow. It might scar, but it was done with a sharp blade. One that didn’t rip and pull at her skin as he dragged it across.
I clench my jaw. When we discussed competition, she never mentioned Carter.
She mentioned me .
So it is the three of us, then?
There’s writing in marker on her other cheek, but it’s smudged to shit. I can only make out ass virginity . Judging by the plug, it’s now gone.
My fingers continue their exploration. I tap the top of the plug, and she groans. Her thighs are pressed so tightly together, her legs shake with the effort.
I move from her bruised ass back to her hip, to the outside of her thigh. Knee. Calf. Ankle. Foot.
She jerks away when I skim the sole of her foot.
I can see her tied up in my ropes. The special ones that I don’t think she discovered when she broke into my house. But there’s time for that later. If there is a next time.
Now, I want to open her up.
My trek north comes along the inside of her leg. She lets out a breath and rolls onto her back, her legs falling open.
Her cunt is wet and red. I’ve never seen one so flushed and swollen, her clit looking like it’s been teased mercilessly until now. When I get to her inner thigh, higher and higher, the noise starts. A little whine that she can’t seem to stop—maybe she can’t hear it. She digs her heels into the bed again, her hips jerking.
Chasing pleasure no one has given her.
But there’s Carter. Penn. Maybe someone else?
Not exclusive . That’s what she said.
So do I throw my hat in the ring or do I walk away?
“Oliver,” she whimpers. “Please keep touching me.”
I go still.
She knows it’s me.
Well, that changes everything, doesn’t it?
“Oliver.” Her voice is stronger. “Oliver.”
She says it like a chanting prayer.
I glance around the room, noting the desk along the far wall, a chair tucked under it. Clothes in her hamper and not on the floor. She’s tidy. Everything with its place. Although there isn’t much here in terms of personality. The walls are white. There’s no artwork, no personal touches besides the rug and colorful blanket.
My house was always such a riot of colors growing up, this feels clinical.
I palm my dick. It stiffened the moment I walked into the room, but now it’s hard as steel. Her saying my name…
I drop my pants, kick them off with my shoes. I shed my shirt, needing to be skin-to-skin with her.
What I don’t want to do is torture her.
I put a knee on the bed, and she freezes. Her legs fall apart without shame, and I use both hands to run up the insides of her thighs. I drag her body in my direction, keeping hold of her legs. Keeping her ankles together and on one shoulder.
The position lifts her ass off the bed. Most of her weight is on her shoulder blades, but she doesn’t seem uncomfortable. She’s trembling.
Anticipation?
I notch myself at her slit. It’s hot and slick, her muscles already grabbing at me. Trying to pull me deeper. I reach down and tear the headphones off, tossing them away. I tug her blindfold down, too.
She blinks up at me, her pupils dilating.
“I knew it was you,” she gasps. “I’m going crazy, Oliver.”
“I know, mi nena .” The nickname just slips out.
Covering for my lapse, I push into her. She feels different with the plug. Tighter. She cries out, her hands twisting and holding on to the restraint. I bury myself in her, giving her a second.
“I need you.” Her gaze is pleading.
“You have me,” I growl.
I pull out and slam back into her, banding my arm around her calves. The way her legs are together creates a new feeling of intensity. She squeezes at my cock, her hips lifting like she can meet every thrust. I keep one knee on the mattress, leveraging her against me. I bend forward slightly and run my free hand down her leg.
When my fingers land on her clit, her body bows off the bed.
Someone wound her too tight.
Tears slide down her cheeks, and I thrum the little bud in time with my thrusts. It doesn’t take long for her to break, her orgasm tensing everything. Every damn muscle . I grit my teeth and hold on to my control, fucking her slowly through it.
I don’t stop, though.
Stopping seems out of the question.
She comes down from the high, her expression near delirium. Until I pull out and spread her legs. I slide back into her. She’s a slick mess, but she doesn’t seem to be with it at the moment. Not when I reach down and palm her breast, flicking her nipple.
Her gaze comes back to me.
“Your clit is the only way you come?”
She lets out a breath and nods. My hand returns there, and I work her up faster than before. Her hair is sticking to her face and neck, fanned out around her head. Her silver eyes drag me into her orbit. Even deeper.
I want to be deeper.
It’s strange to be in her and not have it be enough.
I bend forward and take her untouched nipple in my mouth. Her chest rises and falls more as she tries to control her breathing. I suck and lap at her nipple, then take more of her breast into my mouth. I bite and suck harder, determined to leave her with a hickey of my own.
I want to pierce her nipples and claim them as mine. I want to tattoo her whole body, warning off anyone and everyone else.
My hand is still at her clit, the stroking soft and slow. Teasing until she’s ready to beg again, until she squirms and nearly bursts out of her skin with the need to come. The other one is on the breast I haven’t marked.
“Fuck, that feels good,” she groans. “You’re being nice even though?—”
I drag my mouth up her sternum, to the hollow of her throat. Along the side of her neck. To her jaw. I don’t know where I’m going, I just want to map her body with my mouth. I want to memorize it so I can replay this later, when I’m alone in my own bed.
“Even though…” She inhales sharply. “Oliver, I?—”
I kiss her.
I don’t want to hear someone else’s name come out of her mouth, I don’t want her to take away from what I’m giving to her. Every moment I’m inside her hardens the glue between us.
It’s dangerous.
She’s dangerous and seductive and most definitely off-fucking-limits.
At the moment, though? None of that matters.
She opens for me. I kiss her deeply, my weight pressing down on her. Our chests crush together; the only space left between us is where I still touch her clit.
I move faster. My balls are heavy, slapping against her with every push into her. The need to orgasm is crawling up on me, but I want one more from her first.
She gives it to me. She cries into my mouth, letting me suck up her noises of pleasure, and she tries desperately to twist away from my fingers when I keep up the pressure.
I lied.
Two more.
I tear my lips from her mouth, putting them to her ear. “Let me hear you.”
“I think I’m going to pass out,” she says, sniffling. “You’re breaking me. I can’t c-come anymore, Oliver, please.”
I nip her neck. Just a snap of my teeth on her flesh, and her hips move in response. I lick at the area and do it again, my teeth digging in, burrowing in her flesh, but not hard enough to make her bleed. I suck the same spot until she screams a third climax, her thighs squeezing my hips. It rolls through her.
She goes limp.
Raising my head, I check that her eyes are still open.
They are .
They shift to meet my gaze, and she licks her lips. They’re puffy and red from our kiss.
I move lower.
“Oh, Oliver, no?—”
I stand. My dick is wet, soaked with her arousal and cum, pointing straight at her. I adjust her again, flipping her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up until her knees are under her. Her arms are still flat out, her head turned to the side and pressed to the mattress.
She looks like a beautiful mess.
“One more for me, mi nena ,” I say.
I pull the plug from her ass in one tug. It joins the headphones on the floor, and cum immediately seeps out. The circumstances haunt me, but I ignore my million questions and instead line up with the tight rosebud.
She bites her lower lip when I push in. It’s a tighter fit than her cunt, and I groan at the new pressure. I give her another second. Her nostrils flare with every inhale, her pretty, swollen lips parted.
I’m not going to last long.
I fuck her ass hard. My hips strike the bruises and cuts on her cheeks every time I bottom out in her, and her fingers curl around the restraints again. She white-knuckles them, shuddering and gasping.
At this angle, I lean forward and reach under her. I tug at her nipples, imagining little rings in them. One hand stays braced on her abdomen while the other goes to her clit again. I alternate between dipping into her cunt and massaging the bundle of nerves.
She writhes and twitches, like she wants to escape the sensation but can’t figure out where to go. I don’t have her nearly as immobile as I want, but it’s a good taste of the sensation for her.
To see if she’d go farther with me.
Pleasure dances down my spine. I groan and work her harder, my movements getting jerkier. I chase our pleasure—hers with my fingers, mine in a frenzy of motion. It hits me first, and I bow forward. My forehead touches her back as I come hard, my fingers still pushing her to join me.
I’m still fucking coming when she falls into her orgasm. Her ass spasms around my cock, and I get another crushing wave of pleasure.
We collapse to the bed in a heap. I pull out of her and roll to her side, stretching up and undoing the tied restraint. My fingers are clumsy, but I get it loose and help guide her wrists out.
She faces me, her arms tucked into her chest. Her teary gaze finds me.
I wipe them from her cheeks carefully, my thumbs collecting the liquid under her eyes.
“That was intense.” Her voice is hoarse. “I should…”
I shake my head and slip my arm under her neck. I shift closer, my other arm wrapping around her back. She fits perfectly against me, her head nested under my chin.
“You should stay right here.”
Until my sanity comes back to me, I don’t plan on moving.