Chapter 35 #2
"You were at the hospital. I had time."
"Thank you," she says quietly.
"Don't mention it," I say, and I mean that literally, and she knows I mean it, she nods once and comes into the room and that's the end of it. I’m happy because she’s not going to win and argument with me about this.
It’s been a week since the funeral and she finally laughs at something.
A proper laugh, not the small, startled kind that escapes before she can catch it. A real one, head tilted, shoulders moving, the laugh I know better than I know most things.
Mason says something idiotic over the phone on speaker, and she laughs, and I'm sitting at the desk with my back to her, I go very still and just listen to it.
She's coming back. Slowly.
I turn around and she's already looking at me, the laugh still on her face, and she catches my expression, and her smile softens into something quieter.
She ends the call to Mason and asks. "What?"
"Nothing," I say.
She looks at me for a second longer. Then she uncurls from the bed and crosses the room and kisses me, soft and easy, one hand against my jaw.
When she pulls back her eyes are bright.
Not with grief this time, but with something else, I love looking into her eyes.
“Olivia,” I say, my voice already rougher than I mean it to be.
She doesn’t answer with words. She just steps closer until her bare thighs brush mine, and I can feel the warmth radiating off her skin.
Her fingers slide from my jaw to the back of my neck, threading into my hair, and she kisses me again, still gentle, still careful, like she’s asking permission even though we both know the answer.
My hands find her waist, thumbs stroking the soft dip above her hips.
I pull her in slowly, guiding her until she’s straddling my lap on the edge of the chair.
She settles there with a tiny sigh against my mouth; it’s like coming home.
Her arms loop around my neck, mine wrap around her lower back, holding her close enough that I can feel every small shift of her breathing.
We kiss like that for long minutes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmur against her lips. “You know that?”
She smiles and ducks her head to kiss the corner of my jaw. “You make me feel like I am.”
I tilt her chin back up so I can look at her. Really look. Then I kiss her again, deeper this time, letting a little of the hunger I’ve been holding back slip into it. She makes a soft, surprised sound and presses closer, rocking once against me, tentative, testing.
That’s all it takes.
I stand in one smooth motion, lifting her with me. Her legs wrap around my waist instinctively, and her arms tighten. I carry her the few steps back to the bed and lay her down like she’s made of glass, because right now she still is.
“I think you have too many clothes on.” I wink, and she’s removing her dress, then her bra and panties.
I lean down, bracing on my forearms so I don’t crush her. I kiss her throat, her collarbone, and the swell of her breasts. When I close my mouth over one nipple, with a bit of gentle suction, a slow swirl of my tongue, she arches with a quiet moan, and her fingers slide into my hair again.
“Hayden…”
I switch to the other side, giving it the same slow worship while my hand drifts down her stomach, between her thighs. She’s already wet, warm, slick, ready, and the discovery makes me groan against her skin.
I circle her clit with the lightest pressure, patient, letting her hips lift into my touch. She’s breathing faster now, little gasps every time I brush just right.
“Tell me what you want,” I whisper, kissing the underside of her breast. “Anything. I’ll give it to you.”
Her eyes meet mine, dark, trusting, and burning.
“I want you inside me,” she says softly. “But… don’t hold back this time. I want to feel all of you.”
I kiss her hard, once, claiming, and standing back up, I underdress in record time, as much as I love worshipping her body, right now all I want is to be buried inside her. Because I can already say, most of my day will be spent fucking my beautiful girlfriend.
Once undressed, I lean back down, kissing her harder this time, and I reach between us to guide myself to her entrance. I push in slowly at first, letting her feel every inch, watching her face for any flicker of discomfort. There’s none.
When I’m fully inside, I pause, my forehead pressed to hers, breathing her in.
“You okay?”
She nods, nails digging lightly into my shoulders. “More than okay. Move.”
I start slow, long, measured strokes that make her sigh every time I bottom out. But the longer I stay inside her, the more the leash I’ve kept on myself frays.
She rocks up to meet me, her heels pressing into my ass, urging me deeper. Her breath hitches into something sharper, hungrier.
“Harder,” she whispers.
I freeze for half a second, searching her eyes.
She nods again, quick and sure. “Please.”
That’s it.
I snap my hips forward, harder, deeper, and she gasps, her back arching off the mattress. I do it again. The bed creaks under us. The headboard taps the wall once, then twice.
I catch her wrists in one hand and pin them above her head, not tight enough to bruise, but firm enough that she feels held. She moans at the restraint, her thighs squeezing my hips like she wants to pull me even closer.
“Like that?” I rasp against her ear, voice low and wrecked. “You want me to fuck you like I can’t stop?”
“Yes…God, yes—”
I let go of her wrists only to hook her legs over my elbows, folding her nearly in half so I can drive in deeper, hitting that spot that makes her cry out sharp and sweet.
My mouth finds hers again, messy, desperate kisses between thrusts, while one hand slides down to pinch her nipple, rolling it hard between my fingers.
“Come on my cock again. Let me feel it.” I growl.
I angle my hips, grinding against her clit with every rough snap forward, pinching and tugging her nipple in time. She’s shaking now, her whole body trembling, and her breath coming in broken sobs.
“Hayden…I’m—fuck—”
“Come,” I order, my teeth grazing her throat. “Come for me, cupcake. Right fucking now.”
She does, hard, sudden, and shattering around me with a cry that’s half my name, half pure sound. Her walls pulse in violent waves, milking me, and dragging me right to the edge.
I don’t fight it.
I bury myself deep one last time and come with a low, guttural groan, spilling inside her, my hips jerking through the aftershocks while she clings to me, trembling, and whispering my name like it’s the only thing keeping her here.
When it’s over I don’t pull away.
I ease her legs down, stay buried inside her, softening slowly while I kiss her, gentler now, slower, and tasting the salt on her lips. My hand strokes her hair back from her face; my thumb brushes away the damp tracks under her eyes.
“I’ve got you.”
She smiles. “I know,” she whispers. “I’ve always known.”
I hold her tighter.
And for the first time in a long time, the room feels quiet in the best way.
I kiss her and say, “How many times can I make you come today?”
She starts laughing and sits on top of me. “Let’s see.” She leans down, and I pull her closer, already ready for the next round.