12. Trinity
Trinity
Or you could stay.
The suggestion hung in the air between us. He looked down at me through lowered lids. Every part of me wanted to escape into his arms and embrace the offer to lose myself, if just for a night.
I took in a gulp of air, trying to alleviate the delicious sense of anticipation rising in my chest. I’d been on edge all day.
Oliver seemed to bring that out in me. The kiss, his hand on my thigh during dinner, squeezing his ass between my legs on the ride to and from my parents’ place… it had all led to this moment.
“What would we do if I stayed?” I let my purse fall to the couch.
He grinned as he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s date number three. Anything goes, right?”
“I’d hardly call crashing on your couch a date.”
“We could make it official. You want to go out and grab a bite to eat? There’s that twenty-four-hour place a few blocks over.” He turned toward the door.
I laughed. “No. You’re the one who’s hung up on the three-date rule.”
His attention shifted back to me. “What does that mean?”
Lifting my hand, I took a step closer, then set my palm on the firm plane of his chest. “It means anything goes.”
A shiver ran down my spine as he lowered his head. His mouth met mine, the soft touch of his lips seeming to be in direct contradiction to the heat and urgency that flooded my system. I wrapped my arms around him, trying to pull him closer, wanting to surrender my senses to the moment.
The dinner with my family, my brother’s unappreciated interest in my decisions, and being around my overachieving siblings had torn down my walls, leaving me vulnerable and unsure.
Usually I’d run away, hop the first plane and get as far from their unwanted judgment as I could.
But I’d lost that option when I signed the contract on the building.
I needed to find another coping skill, a distraction.
So far Oliver was doing a very good job of meeting that need.
His fingers skimmed my arms, eliciting a wave of goosebumps. Heat unfurled in my stomach like a strand of yarn slowly unwinding from the skein. I’d never been one to deny myself the pleasure of a gorgeous man’s company. And Oliver definitely fit the category of gorgeous man.
His palm cupped my chin. “You okay?”
With my heart beating in my chest like the rapid tempo to a drum line, I tried to summon a casual grin. “Yeah.”
“You let me know if you want to stop.” The pad of his thumb brushed my cheek.
“Stop? We’ve barely even started.”
The edges of his eyes crinkled as his lips turned up in a grin. “Where the hell did you come from?”
I met his gaze. How had I not noticed the honey-colored flecks in his dark-brown eyes?
The color deepened, going from caramel to hot fudge as he dipped his head down again.
His mouth met my neck, and I arched into him.
The shorts he’d been holding dropped to the floor.
My hands ran over his rib cage, his chest, and the small of his back, coming to rest on his hips.
He took slow, shuffling steps, herding me toward the back of the huge studio apartment.
I complied, connected at the mouth, the hip, letting him guide me toward the bed.
Desire rolled through me, gathering momentum with each flick of his tongue until it seemed like I couldn’t hold anything back.
I chased the sensation, matching the urgency of his kisses with demands of my own.
When the back of my legs hit the mattress, I pulled him down on top of me.
He shifted, sliding a hand under my shirt.
The feel of his fingers dancing along my ribs made me realize how much I wanted this.
No, needed this. A chance to feel… to remind myself I was desirable and worthy of someone’s attention.
So what if my family thought I was a failure who would never amount to anything? In Oliver’s arms I felt wanted.
I moved under him, easing the edge of his briefs over his hips.
“Not so fast.” He pulled back then propped himself up on an elbow. “I want to enjoy you.”
My chest expanded. He made me feel desirable, worthy. “We’ve got plenty of time for that.”
“Take off your shirt then.” He rolled to his back and tucked his hands behind his head.
My mouth spread into a lazy grin as I undid the top button. “Are you always this bossy?”
“Only when I see something I want.”
His gaze followed as I slowly slipped each button through its hole. When I finished, I flung one leg over his hips and straddled him, my shirt still held closed. His tongue flicked out and rimmed his upper lip. Heat pooled in my core while I waited to see what he’d do next.
“Take it off.” His voice came out low, almost gravelly.
I wasn’t one to give into demands so easily but for some reason doing Oliver’s bidding turned me on.
I’d been ready for a quick, heated tumble between the covers that would have left us both breathless and satisfied.
Somehow his way of doing things, drawing it out, making demands, had me hotter and wetter than I could remember being in a long time.
Shrugging my arms through the sleeves, I watched him watching me. The way his eyes widened slightly when my shirt fell away, the way his dick strained against his briefs, the way his pulse kicked up in the ticking of the vein on his neck.
“Better?” I asked.
He nodded. “How about you lose the bra?”
I shivered as I slid my arms behind my back, wanting to draw out the moment. My bra seemed too small, too tight, as my breasts tingled, my nipples growing taut, my skin impatient for his touch. My fingers fumbled with the clasp before finally managing to undo the tiny hooks.
A low moan rumbled through his chest. “All the way.”
Forcing myself to slow down, to let the anticipation build, I complied. First one strap, then the other. I held one arm across my chest, pinning my bra in place, wanting to tease him just a bit. “Like this?”
He laughed as he switched positions, putting me squarely in the middle of his lap. His finger gently pressed against my breastbone in the center of my chest. Then he hooked his finger around the rosette in between the cups of my bra and drew it down. “I was thinking more like this.”
Yes, oh hell, yes. I almost shrieked the words out loud, but this was his game, and I wanted to find out what his next play would be. My arm remained where my bra had been, shielding my breasts from his unrelenting gaze. His eyes darkened even more as he cocked his head.
“Let me see you, Trinity.” The words came out soft, not so much a demand as a plea.
I lowered my arm, exposing myself to the burn of his gaze. Heat washed over me, not from embarrassment, but from want. A desperate need forced the air from my lungs. My chest heaved.
“Fucking beautiful.” His hands reached for me without touching. Palms glided about half an inch above my skin, making me hyper aware of that tiny sliver of space separating us.
Wanting to push my breasts into his hands, I waited, stifled that urge. This foreplay was torture, evil, even. But so hot, so incredibly hot I might come before he even laid a hand on me.
“I want to touch you.” He nudged his nose into my hair, his hands at his sides.
I nodded, nuzzling his cheek with mine.
“Would you like that?” His breath tickled my ear.
Would I like that? Was he kidding? If he didn’t get his hands on me in the next few seconds, I wouldn’t be able to hold back. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded again.
His finger brushed my hair back, grazing my shoulder. I took in a sharp breath as I shifted closer, trying to line up my torso with his, desperate to feel his skin on mine. He drew my earlobe into his mouth. My hands went to his shoulders, my fingers digging into the firm flesh, pulling him closer.
Instead of releasing some of the tension that crackled between us, the feel of his mouth, the heat of his tongue, made me even more impatient.
I put my hands on his cheeks, forcing him to meet my gaze.
Then I bent toward him, capturing his mouth with mine.
Every part of me hummed with anticipation.
He flipped me onto my back and hovered over me.
“Need some help with these pants?” His fingers had already started working on my button.
I undid the zipper and pushed them down my legs. He kissed a trail down my chest, between my breasts, over my stomach to the waistband of my pink and black polka dot panties.
“These need to go, too.” His fingertip rimmed the sensitive skin under the elastic waistband. So eager to feel his hands on me, all I could do was nod. He snagged the elastic in his teeth and tugged my panties down my legs.
Fully exposed, I trembled. Not because I was cold or nervous. But because my body was so full of adrenaline, the rush had to go somewhere.
“You okay?” He flung my panties over his shoulder.
“Your turn.” I nudged my chin toward his shorts.
One side of his mouth ticked up in a smile as he slid his briefs down his legs. His erection sprang free.
He was wrong, he was the beautiful one. Every inch of him looked like it had been carved out of granite. Maybe marble. From the broad shoulders to his tapered waist, he embodied perfection in the flesh.
He reached into the nightstand and grabbed a condom. I bit my lip as he wrapped a hand around his dick and unrolled the latex. A tiny part of me wished he’d let me feel him first. I wanted to run my tongue around the rim and taste him. Next time. Right now I needed him somewhere else.
I leaned back on the bed, supporting myself with my elbows.
He crawled over me, hovering on his hands and knees.
Unwilling to wait for him to take the lead, tired of his taunting and teasing, I dug my fingers into his glutes and pulled him down.
The crushing weight grounded me. I spread my legs underneath him, nudging my hips up.
He slipped a finger between them, zeroing in on my clit.
It didn’t take but a few strokes before I pushed his hand out of the way and angled my hips to meet his.
A moment of resistance, of adjusting to his size, and then the sweet fullness of having him seated deep inside washed over me.
He pulled back then thrust forward again.
I tried to hold back, knowing the longer I held my climax at bay, the better it would be.
But as he found a rhythm, I lost control.
It seemed like every nerve ending in my entire body aligned, propelling me toward a release.
It built, growing, expanding, until I teetered on the edge.
In that moment Oliver paused. He pulled back until his dick barely nestled against my entrance.
I waited, panting, my body tense, eager for the inevitable.
Then he thrust. Hard. Filling me, going deeper than he had before.
I exploded around him, literally saw stars dance across the back of my eyelids as I clung to him.
He stilled, letting my climax run its course, murmuring against my ear.
I couldn’t make out what he said but his tone offered comfort, encouragement, reassurance.
The intensity slowly dissipated until just the aftershocks coursed through me. Oliver held me tight, still seated deep inside until I trusted myself to speak.
“Um, wow?” I managed.
He rolled to the side and gathered me against him. “I guess I can take that as a compliment?”
I nodded against his chest. “More like an expression of awe.”
“Awe, I like it. I guess it was good then?” A smile played at the edges of his lips.
Good. It was better than good. Oliver might be the best I’d ever had. But I wasn’t ready to admit something like that yet. So I rolled onto him, sitting up as I straddled his legs. “Pretty good. But now it’s your turn.”