Chapter 19 Avery
Chapter nineteen
Avery
The front door to my apartment burst open with a bang, and if it weren’t for the built-in stopper, it would’ve put a hole in the wall.
Her legs are locked around my waist, her gold dress bunched up around her hips when he rips her lips away from mine. "The stylist told me to return the dress in one piece," she says, not allowing the words to register in my brain before our mouths crash back together.
"I’ll pay for a replacement," I tell her desperately between kisses, needing to feel every part of her soft skin beneath my hands.
I carry her down the hall, and head for my bedroom.
She pulls away from me again, her hands attempting to tug at the hem to bring it over her head as gently as she can, while frantic and eager.
"It’s one of a kind." We both pause, and I look at her properly, taking her in for everything she is in this dim light. Lipstick smudged, her cheeks and chin completely void of makeup, no doubt transferred onto my face. Her chest is rising and falling heavily, her lips swollen from me.
"Fine." I place her down gently, her hand resting on my chest where the top button of my Armani suit no longer exists.
My suit is replaceable. Her dress, apparently not.
Her big eyes search mine, specks of gold and green glimmer in the city lights that shine through my bedroom windows, and I can’t look away. Her dress is still bunched around her middle, but her eyes are calling to me, begging for me to keep my focus.
I place her down onto the ground, her gaze still locked on mine as she slips her heels off one by one. Olive lets out a quiet sigh of relief when her feet collide with the soft, plush carpet.
"Are you going to take my dress off, or am I?" She tilts her head to the side, her arm reaching behind her back for the zip. When I don’t humor her with a response, I hear the zip as it makes its way down her back, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"I want to watch you take it off yourself." I take a step back, sit on the edge of my bed and rest on the palm of my hands.
The straps fall off her shoulders, and down her forearms, her hands remaining by her sides, letting the dress fall effortlessly, pooling around her feet.
Her face remains confident through it all, and with a body like hers, she deserves to ooze it.
My breath hitches in my throat, my tongue sweeping across my bottom lip like she’s the most edible thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting the chance to taste, to consume.
If I were allowed one last meal on death row, she would be it, and I haven’t even had a lick yet.
Olive wasn’t lying.
There isn’t a trace of underwear on her skin, no bra in sight.
Her tits are perfectly proportionate with her body, nipples a light shade of brown, her stomach soft and flat.
I’m desperate to touch her, never been more wrung out to touch anybody, but I’m a patient man.
At least, I can pretend to be for the night, if a night is all I get.
I take in every inch of her. Even the parts you wouldn’t typically look at, but I have this need to memorize it all.
Does she have any visible birthmarks? Yes, I see one beneath her ribs. It’s small, and in the shape of Alaska. One on her forearm, that, from this angle, kind of looks like a leaf. There are no others that I detect.
Any scars from her childhood to now? None I can see in this light, but I make a mental note to search her body in the daytime, too, if she lets me.
Any new scuffs or bruises? One. It looks sore, mildly lumpy, and irritated. It’s on her stomach, about two inches away from her belly button.
Her hand moves quickly to cover it up, and I pull my eyes away, pretending I don’t notice, but it’s too late.
A pang of sorrow spoils in my gut. "Sorry, I—"
"Tell me what you want me to do." She changes the subject, taking a step closer to me, pushing me back onto the bed. I’m still fully clothed, my cock aching to be set free. She’s tempting me in ways I’ve never been tempted before.
Dipping her head, she hovers her lips next to my ear, her fingers finding whatever buttons remain on my shirt. "Do you want me to take this off you?"
One button.
Two buttons.
Three, and I nod until she opens my shirt completely, leaving my chest visible.
"I thought I was going to be bossing you around," I remind her, my hands clenching fistfuls of the duvet as she pushes my sleeves down my arms.
"Then do it, Avery. I’m standing here, naked and waiting for you to have your way with me.
But I think you talk a big game, because all I see is a man with his hands by his sides, trying his hardest not to touch the woman who is about to become his wife.
" She kisses the side of my mouth, her lips trailing along my jaw, my neck, chest, and abs as she lowers herself. She’s undoing my belt, and in turn, causing the undoing of me, but she doesn’t sink to her knees.
And even if she tried to, I wouldn’t let her.
"The man who, all night, resisted the urge to touch me, no matter how many times I begged him to.
" She bends one knee, readying to kneel on the floor before me, but I stop her mid movement.
As badly as I want this night to be about her, I don’t think she’s going to let it. I have a feeling she’s going to be just as greedy as I know I’ll be.
Hearing the sound of Olive Herring come because of me will be like my birthday and Christmas all in one.
"Once I do this, Olive—"
"Then do it." It’s a whisper, but it’s filled with every single thing I need from her.
Need.
Want.
Desire.
My hand cups her cheek, her hair falling down my forearm as her lips crush against mine. The warmth of her naked body is radiating into my skin as she lingers in front of me, but I tug her closer, making her straddle my lap.
A groan slips up her throat, her fingers intertwining at the nape of my neck as her hips buck against me. "Take it out," I tell her, and she pulls away from our kiss. "Get on your knees and take my cock out, Songbird."
She slips off me, sinking to the ground when her hands find the waistband of my pants, fingers working the zip and button slowly until her grip is locked firmly around the base of me.
"Fuck," I murmur, my low voice sending vibrations through my chest as it continues to rise and fall.
Her eyes shimmer with mischief while one hand strokes me base to tip, her free hand gliding between her legs.
I see the gold specks in her eyes before she rolls them back, enjoying the way her hand feels against herself.
"Tell me what your hand feels like," I urge her, desperate to know the effect I’ve had on her tonight.
"It would be better if it were your mouth on me," she purrs. "Just let me taste you a little first."
Her lips wrap around the tip of my cock, then she takes me deeper, inch by inch, until her mouth is full of me.
I suck in a breath, watching the way her head bobs, taking as much of me as she can.
Her tongue flattens on the underside of my length while her eyes stay locked on mine.
She blinks, breaking eye contact right as she gags on me.
She looks back up, her eyes are watery, but her smile is downright devilish.
Olive Herring sucks cock, and enjoys it?
Fuck me.
"Careful, or you’re going to make me come," I warn her, her eyes darting back in my direction, a popping sound echoes through the room as she takes me out of her mouth.
"Isn’t that the point?" she asks, her head tilted to the side while her hand strokes me up and down. "I’m all for you having your way with me, Avery, if that’s what you want?
" She rests the head of my cock on the tip of her tongue, staring up at me like she’s someone so innocent, someone who’s never done this before.
"There is no part of me that wants you to stop, but—oh God.
" I manage as I grip the sheets in my fists, my torso slinging backward.
Her mouth is so wet, so fucking wet, that I can only imagine what it feels like to be between her legs, to be inside of her.
I move my hands from the bed to the back of her head, not that she needs the guidance, but more to keep my hands distracted.
She takes her mouth off, stroking me. "Tell me when you want me to stop, and I will. You’re in charge, remember? I’m doing whatever you want me to do." This time, when her lips round the tip, they glide down to almost the base, her hand following up and down.
Up and down.
Up and down.
I need her.
I don’t want her to stop, but I need to know what it feels like with her pussy wrapped around me while I come.
"Your mouth, Olive…fuck."
I feel the need to come getting stronger with each suck, lick, and gag.
I know if she doesn’t stop, I’m going to come before I’m ready, and before I get the chance to really show her who she’s about to marry.
She releases my cock with a soft moan, her lips glistening with saliva as she pulls away from me, stroking me.
I sit up, and she settles back on her heels, but I bend down to kiss her.
My hand clasps her jaw, pulling her face closer to mine as my tongue collides with hers in a kiss that is messy, feverish, and fucking soul crushing in the best way.
I wrap my arms around her body, rising to my feet, bringing her with me as she whimpers, her hands exploring my chest and shoulders.
I need a minute without the attention on my cock to regain composure, and pull myself back from creeping closer to the point of no return. More than anything, I need to know what she tastes like.
"Sit." It’s not a suggestion, more a command, and she does what I tell her to without hesitation. I drop to my knees as she lies back, leaning on her elbows. Her body rests on the edge of my bed, and my eyes trail her from toes to head. Her knees part like she knows exactly what I’m searching for, and even though it’s dark, I see it.
She wasn’t lying earlier when she told me she was soaking wet.