Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
OLLIE
"No one is going to hurt you, Ollie. Do you believe me?”
Everything inside me feels raw and exposed, like a wound that’s barely had time to heal and still throbs the moment you brush against it.
But as Ethan looks at me as if he can fix everything, as if he can make the fear disappear, I believe him.
It’s not a promise he can make, not when I’ll be gone in a few days and he won’t be with me, but he’s the only one that could make such a promise to me and I’d believe him.
Because he listened to me while he held me together.
Because he kissed my tears away.
Because he saw me when no one else had and kept me safe.
“I believe you,” I whisper to him, and I feel the truth behind my words.
I don’t regret telling him about me, about what happened. Not when his eyes shine with such fierce protectiveness as if he would rip apart anyone who means me harm. There is no pity for me in his gaze, only pride, and concern. And want.
Want that rivals mine.
So I smile at him, at this wonderful man who has done nothing but make sure I’m okay, and happy, and cared for all these days, and let him see everything in that smile.
His brown eyes track the movement and when they lift again to meet mine, my heart beats just a little faster, just a little harder, because it’s not only tenderness swimming in those depths, but a dark need that calls to me, a promise for something achingly devastating.
And I’ve never wanted anything more.
Ethan’s gaze burns as I rise onto my knees on either side of his thighs, his flannel barely covering my ass.
“Can you do something for me, Ethan?” I mutter hoarsely as I take one of his hands and slip it under my shirt, placing it on my quivering belly, needing to feel him touch me, ground me.
“Anything,” he grates out in a voice that’s pure gravel.
I brace my hands on his shoulders and my eyes briefly shut when his fingers run over my sensitive skin, my breath hitching when his other hand grips my bare hip.
“For whatever time we have left,” I choke out as his hand starts playing with my leaking cock while his other teases me between my cheeks, “I want you to treat me like I’m yours.” A whimper slips out as his touch pours fire in my veins.
Our gazes clash and the look he gives me burns with possessiveness. Predatory and addictively wild.
“You want me to treat you like I own you, Ollie?” he says as his hands leave me momentarily to grip my shirt and pull it off me in one smooth move, baring every inch of my skin to his hungry eyes.
“Yes,” I breathe out as he resumes his torturous touching, gasping when slick trickles out of my hole and his fingers dip in it and use it to circle my softening rim.
“You want me to make you feel like you’re all I think about every minute of every day?
” Two fingers sink inside me easily and a desperate groan escapes me.
“Like I can’t fucking breathe from wanting you?
” His strokes are slow and thorough and my mind grows hazy, my eyes heavy.
“Like all I want is to mark every part of you so you’ll feel me even days after you’re gone?
” He growls the last word and the sound vibrates through me, igniting a need that is deep and visceral.
“Yes, Ethan,” I tell him in a guttural voice I don’t recognize. “I want to feel you for days after I’m gone.”
“Where do you want to feel me, sweetheart?”
“Everywhere.” On my body, in my heart, in my very soul.
He never breaks eye-contact as he dips his head and sucks my nipple into his mouth, pulling on it strongly, and a sharp spasm of pleasure goes through me.
A moan rips out of me and his eyes darken when he feels me drive back on his fingers shamelessly while he sucks on me.
“Does my baby like this?” he growls in a harsh whisper as his fingers keep up that maddeningly slow rhythm and his mouth moves to my other nipple. “Do you like me sucking on these gorgeous, sensitive tits?”
“I do. Oh God, it feels – ah – it feels so good.”
“But it’s not enough, is it, baby? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be bouncing on my fingers like a hungry little slut.”
My hole clenches around him, my cheeks burning at his filthy words, and his lips stretch into a sinful smile.
“I love it when you blush for me,” he says, need and wonder warring in his gaze. He removes his fingers and I whine at how empty I feel.
But it only takes a few seconds for him to tear off his T-shirt, pull down his sweats and notch the wet head of his cock in my slick hole.
“Blush more for me, my sweet Ollie,” he grinds out, as his cock fills me in one steady glide that makes me lose my mind.
“Let me fuck that pretty blush out until you’re pink all over.
” His hands feel like brands on my waist as he thrusts up hard and deep while pulling me firmly down on the saddle of his hips, and does it again and again until all I am is broken moans and gasping breaths.
Until all I can do is hold on to him as he takes me apart on his cock and owns me completely.
My head lolls helplessly back as he fucks in and out of me, but when I feel one of his palms wrap around my throat gently, my gaze desperately seeks his again.
“Look at us, baby,” he rasps out with a deadly smile, his eyes briefly dipping to where we are joined. “Look how well you take me, how open you are for me. Like you were made for me. Like you were made to be fucking mine. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” I moan long and loud.
“That’s right,” he growls and his thrusts turn savage, brutal, hitting my aching spot over and over until I think I’m going to lose all reason. “You’re mine, Oliver. Mine to fuck, mine to knot and breed, mine to touch and take care of. Now scream it for me.”
And as his cock breaches my womb and pleasure like I’ve never known tears through me, I do scream.
I scream his name. I scream that I’m his and only ever his, and as I feel him come inside me, breeding me, roaring his pleasure, and my own orgasm washes over me in a powerful, destructive wave, something cracks inside me.
Because I wish that everything he said was real.
Even if it’s not.