15. Olivia
Olivia
The moment she touched him, he was iron in her hand.
A thrill spiked through her—electric and immediate. He was ready. He was hers. She wanted to own his pleasure tonight, the way he'd owned hers, completely and without apology.
She leaned over him, her tongue tracing the length of him, tasting salt and heat.
Nicholas let out a low, jagged moan.
She took him into her mouth. Slow. Deliberate.
Her hands and lips worked together as she drew him in deeper, inch by inch, feeling her mouth stretch around him.
He was thicker than anyone she'd been with before—longer too—and she kept going, pushing until she felt him at the back of her throat.
Her eyes watered. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
She found a rhythm and held it, steady and hungry, her tongue swirling along his underside as she sucked.
"Olivia." His voice came out raw, barely recognizable. "You feel so fucking amazing."
The praise hit her like fuel.
She sucked harder. Deeper. Using her tongue to excite him more. She wanted to swallow him whole.
"I can't take much more," he warned, his hips twitching beneath her.
She released him slowly, her lips slick, her breathing uneven.
She looked up at him from beneath her lashes.
"I want to feel you inside me. But if you want me to finish you with my mouth, I will.
" She paused, heat moving through her chest. "You get me so excited, Nicholas.
I can almost explode just sucking on you. "
Nicholas didn't answer with words.
He sat up. His eyes were dark and focused with a predatory heat that made her breath catch. "Come here. I want to make you scream."
He reached for the nightstand. Tore the foil. Set the condom on the bed.
Then pressed her back into the pillows.
He didn't go for the finish.
He went back down.
His tongue moved against her with a frantic, passionate intensity that had her spine arching off the mattress before she could brace for it. The moans started again—louder this time, vibrating deep in her chest.
"Oh my God," she screamed, her fingers clawing at the sheets. "I'm going to come again!"
She exploded. Violent and beautiful, the release shook through her to her core. Nicholas didn't pull away. He stayed, sucking her through every wave of the climax until her muscles finally went soft beneath him.
Then he moved.
He took the condom, rolled it on with quick, efficient movements. Olivia reached for him, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper.
"Fuck me, Nicholas. Please."
He slid inside.
She cried out—the fullness of him a revelation, too good to feel real.
They found a rhythm instantly, hard and driving, the kind of pace that blurred the edges of the room around her.
He pushed her legs back against her chest, going deeper, hitting places she hadn't known existed inside her own body.
Her screams filled the suite.
"Oh my God," she gasped, her head tossing against the pillow. "I don't believe it. I'm going to come again!"
Her whole body seized. Nicholas didn't slow down. He drove through her tremors, his breath coming in sharp, heavy bursts, until she finally began to settle beneath him.
Then he moved her.
She understood without being told. She got onto her hands and knees, her skin flushed, her heart still racing from the last wave. He entered her from behind.
"That feels so damn good," she sobbed into the pillow. "Don't stop."
He didn't.
He thrust into her, his hands gripping her hips—anchoring her, claiming her—and the pressure built again from somewhere she thought had been emptied completely.
"I'm close," he groaned.
"Please," she urged, meeting his rhythm with everything she had left. "Come for me."
She felt him break.
At the exact same moment, another wave crashed over her—massive and consuming—and she screamed his name into the dark as they went over the edge together.
The silence that followed was heavy and sweet.
They stayed tangled together for a long time, neither of them speaking, neither of them moving, while their breathing slowed and the sweat cooled on their skin. Eventually, Nicholas pulled her into the curve of his body, his arm settling around her like something certain.
Olivia stared at the ceiling, her mind still spinning slowly, like something winding down from a great height.
"I have never had sex like that before in my life," she whispered into the quiet. "I used to read about scenes like this in my romance books, but I thought they were all made up."
Nicholas tightened his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "You make it all so easy. You're an incredible, sensual, sexy woman."
She rested her cheek against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. The sheets were cool. His skin was warm. Her mind, for the first time in years, had gone completely quiet—no calculations, no bracing, no waiting for something to go wrong.
She was nearly asleep when reality snapped her back.
She sat up fast, the white sheets slipping down her skin. "What time is it?"
Nicholas stayed still, his arm resting where she'd been. He reached for his phone on the nightstand, and the screen lit the dark room with a soft blue glow. "It's only 10:30."
Olivia exhaled slowly, her shoulders dropping. "I can't get to Lauren's too late. I don't want to wake her."
Nicholas rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one hand. He looked at her in that particular way he had—like she was worth taking the time to actually see. "Why are you going to Lauren's? There's plenty of room here."
Olivia hesitated. She searched his face for any trace of performance, any polite obligation dressed up as an invitation.
She didn't find any.
"I didn't know if you wanted overnight company," she said carefully.
"Honestly?" He reached out and traced her jaw with his thumb, slow and deliberate. "I usually don't. But right now, I can't think of anything I want more."
Warmth moved through her chest—quiet and genuine, the kind that didn't need to announce itself. She leaned into his touch and smiled. "I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be."
She slipped out of bed, her bare skin tingling in the cool air, and found her phone. She typed a quick text to Lauren, feeling lighter with every word. When she turned back around, Nicholas was still watching her.
His eyes moved over her slowly. Appreciatively. Without apology.
"You look spectacular," he murmured. "Now come over here and kiss me."
Olivia didn't hesitate.
She climbed back onto the bed and leaned into him. The kiss started gently and deepened fast—the way things always seemed to between them, like a current that built without asking permission.
The night wasn't over.
Not even close.
She woke with his arm draped over her shoulder.
The steady weight of it was grounding in a way she hadn't expected—something solid and real in the soft morning quiet. She stayed still, listening to the rhythm of his breathing against her hair, not ready to let the moment end.
Her mind drifted back over the night.
She'd lost count of the climaxes, of the moments her own voice had surprised her, of the number of times she'd thought she had nothing left and he'd proven her wrong.
She'd never experienced anything like it—the depth of it, the sheer consuming intensity.
Her legs felt heavy. Her skin was sensitive.
The ache between her thighs was thorough and unmistakable.
It felt like a win.
She stayed still in the quiet and let the truth of it settle over her, soft and irreversible.
The worst part was not that she wanted him. The worst part was that being with him made going home feel unthinkable.
Nicholas shifted. His eyes opened—steady and clear, fully present, none of the groggy half-awareness she was used to in the mornings beside Mark. He looked at her and smiled.
"Good morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?"
"I think so," she said, her voice husky. "But the lower half of my body and my nipples ache."
He grinned—slow and entirely unrepentant. "You were a tiger last night. I can't believe you had me explode three times."
Olivia laughed, something light and real rising through her chest. "That's all? I'm way ahead. I guess I owe you."
They laughed together, their voices muffled by the pillows, the sound filling the suite with something easy and warm. Nicholas pulled her close and kissed her. She stayed in it for a moment, then pulled back with her palm flat on his chest.
"I think I need a toothbrush."
"Maybe," he murmured. "But I don't care."
He kissed her again—deeper this time, longer—and as they shifted toward each other, she felt the unmistakable semi-hard press of him against her stomach.
She raised an eyebrow. "Someone is ready to continue the party."
He let out a short, breathless laugh. "I can't believe what you do to me. How about we hit the shower and get some breakfast, and then we can find our way back here?"
"When is checkout?" she asked.
"Whenever I tell them I'm leaving."
Olivia smiled, watching the easy way he carried that particular kind of authority—like it had never occurred to him to be otherwise. "A shower sounds wonderful, but I left my overnight bag in my car. I didn't want to assume I'd be staying over."
"Do you have a ticket for your car?"
"Yes." She slipped out of the sheets, the cool air hitting her bare skin, and fished the ticket from her purse. Nicholas took it without looking at the paper.
He looked at her instead—his eyes traveling over her, slow and unhurried and entirely unapologetic.
"You know, I never get tired of looking at that gorgeous body."
Heat rose to her cheeks. She grabbed a corner of the sheet and pulled it around herself like a shield that neither of them believed in.
Nicholas picked up the house phone, gave the valet the ticket number, and requested the bag. He hung up and looked back at her. "It's all yours," he said, nodding toward the bathroom. "When you're ready for the shower, leave the door open."
She shot him a look—slow and deliberate—before slipping inside.