44. Chapter 44 #4
I flop back, knowing this wasn’t happening unless it was happening Oliver’s way, at his pace…and it works. Locking his eyes with mine again, he slides himself in; his head dips forward with a groan of relief.
“God…” He murmurs in rough desire. “You feel…perfect, just like I remembered.”
Sinking deeper with every inch, going slow at first. Holding my hips till he reaches the hilt, my body shudders beneath him - when he gives me time to adjust.
Then, and only when I’m better prepared, does he give me what I wanted. Pulling out, leaving just the tip, then ramming back inside. The mixture of pleasure and discomfort shoots something through my spine, my back arches, and I sigh in pleasure.
“That’s my girl.” He hums, giving me time to adjust again before setting a new pace. Neither of us is used to it. One that’s deliberately slow, deep, where I can watch our hips connect with every thrust that still reaches the right places, his old pace had, but this had more.
Somewhere after my fourth orgasm of the night, I craved the sensual moments more and more.
The lazy movements of his hips, the whimpers he made, the way he’d alternate from tangling his hands in my hair to aligning our foreheads.
That and the outstretched assault he had on my clit, sent me into a pleasure spiral.
As the last remnants of the night faded and the early hours of morning crept upon us, my chest moved like a pendulum going back and forth as I tried to regain my breath.
My legs are exhausted from the one-and-off trembling, my throat is hoarse from screaming, moaning against his lips one last time, imprinting my heels into his perfect ass.
My eyes half-lidded in satisfaction, I blink away the stars clouding my vision.
Then my body shudders at the loss of Oliver, as he rolls over next to me, equally exhausted.
With flushed cheeks, it takes everything not to fall asleep in this moment.
I try to fight it, pretty sure I can’t walk after all that, though I do use what strength I do have left to roll onto my side and bury my head in Oliver’s chest, as he wraps his arms tightly around me.
He tilts his head, knowing just from our embrace that something is lingering in my mind.
“What’s wrong?” He prompts, stroking my hair.
“I have never screamed like that before.” I shamefully admit, muffled against his bare skin.
“So now wouldn’t be the best time to tell you my room isn’t actually soundproof, and my neighbours heard everything.” To which I jolt up in embarrassment. Eyes wide and guilt-ridden, knowing I’ve been screaming for hours…then a familiar rumble comes from his chest.
“I’m joking, baby.” He winces when I swat at his chest.
“You s-scared me for a second.” I pout with a sore throat and lie back down to listen to his heartbeat.
“Although I’ve never been with a woman who’s screamed that loud, there may be a possibility they heard some of it.” Oliver teases, and I groan in frustration and bury myself under the covers, never wanting to come back up for air, ever again.
It takes Oliver a few tries to free the duvet from my grip, locked with first-hand embarrassment. I let him join me under the covers, and he kisses one of the love bites he made earlier, while I make a note to wear a turtleneck to work for the next few days.
“Don’t be embarrassed, baby. For what it’s worth, I loved every second of it, and I’m now determined to make you repeat that music to my ears every night,” He laughs, but I know how serious he was being.
Either way, it earned him a punch to the chest this time, not that it makes a difference to his chiselled chest. After a little more fooling around under the covers, Oliver kindly carried me to the bathroom so I could pee, then we showered together to clean up; that turns into a quickie before Oliver showered the two of us with care, carries back to bed, where I’m in nothing but his shirt from earlier, Oliver? He’s nude, my new favourite.
He falls asleep first, probably due to the exhaustion of pleasuring me all night and the prep that went into making my birthday perfect. I listen to him snore lightly, his full weight pinning me to the bed while he uses my breasts as a pillow.
I lay awake a little longer, running my fingers through Oliver’s slightly damp hair as our whole relationship unravelled in my mind.
No longer able to remember the words that made me think I never wanted to see him again, because I had forgiven him the moment I saw him, after seeing how determined Oliver was to give us a real chance and try to make up for the mistakes he made.
Yes, Oliver still was a grumpy loner with a jealous streak, but I love him.
He’s my Surly Bastard and mine alone.
He wasn’t perfect, but there’s no doubt there will be several things Oliver will get wrong in the future, but he had proven to me that he really wouldn’t stop trying to better himself for him and his family, so who was I to deny the man who loved me the opportunity to do so?
Those are the thoughts I hold onto long after the post-bliss of tonight’s orgasms lulls me to sleep with him in my arms, and I plead that when I wake up, us, the two of us, that none of it was a dream.