Built on lies and obsession
Idecided that distance while we spoke was the best option. I knew if I got too close, if he touched me, I would crumple. It’s why I’m on one side of the room, and he is on the other.
I pull out my phone. “If you think recording my confession to get me arrested will work, it won't. I promise, Lyra, even if you do that and I’m sent away, I’ll never be gone.”
I pause my typing and look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Now that you said it, not a bad idea,” I deadpan. “No, Oliver, I’m pulling out my Notes app. I have questions I want to ask and didn't want to forget.”
“Oh, okay.”
“My god.” I shake my head as Oliver moves to lean against the wall.
“I’m ready for my interrogation.”
“It's not an interrogation, it’s just…never mind.” I straighten where I’m sitting on the bed.
“Are there any other secrets, lies, or anything I need to know now?”
“No.”
I wait with a blank face. I need everything here and now. “Nothing that involves me directly.”
I look down at my phone for the next question. “Who else knows?”
“Callan. You and the people who took care of it.”
“Vienna?”
“She might have an idea, but I’ve never confirmed.”
“How do I know you won’t accidentally kill me?”
He looks at me, appalled. “Because I care about you.” It’s interesting to see Oliver show so many emotions over the last twenty-four hours.
“I’ve done a lot of reading over the last few months, trying to get an understanding of what happened.
I was careless with Eva because I didn’t care; it doesn’t make it right, but it’s also the truth. ”
“I saw the books in your room.” It makes sense now. The titles, the research. Willow getting special books for him. In a fucked-up, wrong way, I understand what he is saying about killing her. He didn’t go into it wanting to do that, yet it happened.
Now it’s on me to decide if I can live with the secrets he keeps, knowing he killed an innocent person. “How long were you with her?”
Why I ask, I don’t know—call it sick curiosity on the girl who held his attention yet died at his hands. “I wasn’t.”
“Sleeping together then?”
“On and off for about a year.”
There is no reason I should feel jealous right now, but I am. I’m mad that anyone had Oliver before me. “You never felt…anything for her?”
That doesn’t make sense to me. We’ve known each other for two months, and in that time, our relationship has moved so fast that it feels like we are in 2.0 speed.
“No.”
“I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around you not caring for her at all.”
“I told you this yesterday. She served a purpose. We both saw other people. Well, I did. Callan thought she was only seeing me.”
“Did she love you?”
“I don’t know. Never asked.”
He goes to step forward, but I hold up my hand, stopping him. “No, stay there.”
He huffs, slumping back. “We can't go back; it doesn’t matter if she loved me or not. The bottom line is I didn’t love her. Or care for her. We never spoke, and if we did, it was at events with others around. I didn’t learn anything about her until after her death.”
“Do you just care about me?”
He walks over, not stopping at my raised hand. This time, he doesn’t kneel; he climbs over me.
“No, I don’t just care about you. It’s me wanting to read every book you touch, memorize your face with every page.
It’s brushing your hair because I love taking care of you, feeding you when you forget to eat.
It’s protecting you at every cost. Buying you anything you could ever want.
Taking your nightmares away.” His eyes lock on mine, so much emotion shining back at me it steals my breath.
A shaky breath escapes my lips. My eyes sting. “I want to hear it,” I whisper.
“Then I’ll tell you. Every day. Every hour. Anytime. That’s how I know I’d never hurt you.”
This is the crossroads. When you look down each path.
One where Oliver is nothing more than this fleeting time.
Where we part ways, even though I know I would never truly be able to get rid of him.
The other road is where I accept this part of his past, where he did horrible things, but I love him anyway.
“I’m not afraid of you.” His fingers curl into my hair, leaning forward until our foreheads touch. I exhale and admit what I think a part of me always knew, even if I wanted to doubt it. “I trust you.”
Those words break the hold he had on himself. In the next breath, Oliver is claiming my mouth in a soul-crushing kiss. There’s no past holding him back now. No ghosts clawing at his spine.
Just this.
Just us.
I grab his face, desperate to keep him in the moment.
“I will push every limit. I’ll possess your body completely. You’ll be mine to hold, torment, break, and fix. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I breathe out, arching into him. I run my hands up his back into his hair.
“I’m going to fuck you, Lyra.”
I laugh softly. “Finally.”
I lift up, removing my shirt and bra in one motion. He stands, stripping, leaving him in his tight boxers that outline his large erection.
His body is made to be admired. I can’t stop staring, taking him all in. Every dip, ridge, sculpted muscle I want over me. My eyes move down to his dick, watching it lengthen. The head pushes against the top of the waistband, begging to be released. I lick my lips.
His chuckle is deep. “You can suck my dick after I fuck your pussy.”
“Promises, promises.” I watch as he strips himself of his underwear, but before I can get a good look, he’s pulling my pants down my legs, followed by my panties.
We stare into each other's eyes as he climbs over me, settling between my thighs. Chest to chest, forehead to forehead. Our breath mingles as he grinds against me.
“You’re wet, baby.” He reaches over, pulling something out of the nightstand drawer I can’t see. Then he’s lifting himself up and…
“What the fuck, Oliver?” I watch as blood trickles down from where he just cut his forearm.
“You weren't wet enough.” The blood drips down, hitting my pussy in soft taps.
“You could have used lube or just, I don’t know, ate me out.”
“Don’t worry.” His grin is sinful. “I'll be eating that pussy all night, but it will taste even better with my blood and cum in it.”
Fucking Christ, he’s insane. I’m with a deranged fucking devil. “Why didn’t you cut me?” I ask.
His eyes shoot to mine, darkening as he holds the knife up between us. He looks between it and me a few times. “Do you want that, Dollface? To bleed? For our blood to mix on your cunt while I fuck you raw?”
I lay completely still watching him run the pointed tip over each breast, around my nipples, and down my stomach. Do I want that? I don’t know. I like it when he bites me, drawing blood, but cutting me.
“I’ll never cut you.” The knife lightly grazes my pussy, and I moan as the shock of the cool metal hits my heated core.
“However, I do love biting you.” He tosses the knife, coming down onto my breast so hard he breaks skin. Pain blooms, but soon pleasure takes its place as the tip of his dick notches at my entrance.
“You were mine before, but this will cement that. You’ll never get rid of me.”
“I know.” He slams all the way inside at my words. I arch at the intrusion, feeling him for the first time. It’s everything I needed and more.
He fucks me hard, grinding his pelvis against my clit. I wrap my legs around his hips, pushing him as deep as he can go.
“Fucking perfect.”
I kiss along his jaw and neck. “Don’t stop…Fuck me hard, Oliver!” I cry out.
“You have no idea what you just invited, Dollface.” He pulls out of me, maneuvering to stand at the end of the bed, pulling me down until my ass hangs off. My eyes widen as he throws my legs over his shoulders, bending me in half before thrusting back inside.
“Oh fuck. You are…” I choke. This angle. This position. He’s so deep, I feel like I’m going to actually explode. Reaching between us, he presses on my lower stomach, the small remnant of blood dripping down. It takes everything in me not to back away from the fullness.
“By the end of the night, the sheets will be soaked from your cum.”
“Don’t stop…don’t,” I beg.
“Never.” His pace picks up speed, fucking me so hard I move up the bed with each thrust of his hips.
“I’m close.” I can’t hold it any longer. My vision tunnels to the sensation between my legs as I shake, letting go completely, throwing my head back as I feel wetness gush out of me, physically pushing Oliver’s dick out as I watch in stunned amazement as I come all over his lower abs.
His grin is pure satisfaction. “One down.” He slaps my pussy. “Many more to go.”
He flips me effortlessly, dragging me atop him. I straddle his waist, staring wide-eyed at his grinning face. “Ride my face. Let me lick you clean.”
He guides me up his body, wrapping his arms around my thighs, to pull me down onto his mouth. I love this position, taking what I want from him. I let my head fall back, hair brushing his stomach as I use him like he wants.
He eats me like I’m his last meal. Like nothing else tastes better, even after fucking me. “There you go. Drench my face. I want to drown.”
I grab his hair and grind against him. My thighs squeeze his head, and as soon as he pushes his tongue inside of me, I detonate. Crying out, he licks me clean until I’m forcefully pushing his head away.
“The sweetest fucking thing.” He licks his lips, but Oliver isn’t done with me; he’s just getting started.
“Stay there.” He pulls me down, impaling me back on his dick, thrusting up as I clamp around him, knowing he can feel my muscles wringing him dry.
“This is only the warm-up, Dollface.” His fingers dig into my hips before sitting up. My nipples drag over his chest as our breath mixes as we fuck each other with the desperation and passion only we can create.
It doesn’t take long until my orgasm crests as I shake from the overwhelming sensation. Every nerve raw and electric. “I’m…”
“Coat my cock.” And like my body is trained, I come so hard I sag forward into him. All the while, Oliver fucks me through it before finding his own release.
“Lyra.” He stills as hot cum shoots inside my pussy as he slowly thrusts, making sure none gets out.
Oliver falls back onto the bed, taking me with him.
The soft brush of his lips against my forehead has me sighing in pure bliss.
I lift up, gazing down at his flushed face.
His hair is a mess, matching mine, and his chest and abs are wet.
Fuck, it’s so hot. When I meet his stare once again, I know mine reflects the same thing. Full of love and trust.
“I can’t wait to do that again.”
He laughs. “Spread your legs. Thighs touching the bed—I want to see my pussy used and soaked with my cum.”
I sit between his slightly parted legs, my arms braced behind me. His finger drags through me, and the whimper that leaves me can’t be helped. I’m so sensitive, every touch is too much.
Oliver bends, dragging his lips from my jaw to my neck, sucking on my favorite spot. I cry out and arch when the bastard bites me. I claw at his back, leaving deep, raw scratches. If he’s going to bite me, I’ll mark him in return.
He lifts his head, blood in his grin. “Want to leave scars, Dollface?”
“Yes.”
“Then do it.”