Chapter 19
Olivia
When Reed comes home later that evening—much later than either of us was hoping—I pad out into the hallway in my socks to greet him.
Before the words “welcome back” are out of my mouth, he has me pinned up against the wall, his eyes locked on mine. He’s so tall, towering over me, that my greeting dies in my throat, replaced by an undignified squeak.
He kisses me until I’m breathless, then trails his lips along my jaw and down to my collarbone. Between kisses, he whispers, “I missed you.”
“Did you?” I gasp.
“I was hard all day at work,” he growls. “Thinking about your pretty little mouth wrapped around me… it was impossible to focus on anything else.”
“Well, sorry about that.”
He straightens, gazing down at me hungrily. “You should be.”
“Actually, you know what?” I say, raising an eyebrow at him. “I’m not sorry about that. It’s not my fault you couldn’t stop thinking about me.”
“It absolutely is,” he disagrees, his voice a low rumble in his throat. “You have no idea.”
“I don’t know.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “If anything, I should’ve helped you clear your head, right?”
He hums, his hand sliding down my back and coming to rest on the curve of my ass. “That reminds me,” he says. “I never got the chance to repay the favor.” He leans forward, his teeth on the outer edge of my ear as he breathes, “I want to do it now.”
My breath catches at his words.
Reed’s teeth scrape lightly against the back of my neck, then nip at my earlobe. He tugs at the skin there with his teeth, his eyes briefly falling closed, his breath warm against my skin.
“Reed, you don’t have to do that.” I have to wet my lips before I can keep speaking. “Really. I’m okay. Earlier wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to get something out of it.”
His hands close around my wrists and pin them to the wall above my head with a slow, deliberate strength that makes my pulse spike. He kisses me deep, his tongue sliding against mine, his body pressing me into the wall. When he pulls back, there’s a slow smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“‘Have to’ and ‘go down on you’ will never occur in the same sentence for me.”
His mouth finds the side of my throat, kissing down it slowly between words.
“I’m not doing it because I feel like I have to, Olivia. I’m doing it because you taste like fucking heaven, and I can’t get enough. I keep trying. Every time I think I’ve had my fill, all I want is more of you.”
Heat blooms low in my belly. He kisses me again, harder this time, and the rough way his mouth moves against mine makes me go warm.
When he finally pulls back, he doesn’t go far.
He drops his head and starts kissing his way down the side of my neck, his lips warm and unhurried against my throat, my collarbone, the soft skin at the top of my chest. He’s murmuring against me the whole way down in that low, wrecked voice he gets when he’s worked up.
“I’ve been thinking about you all afternoon. Sitting at my desk hard as a rock, trying to focus on Seattle leasing terms while all I could think about was the way you looked between my legs.”
His hands slide under the hem of my shirt and skim up my ribs, slow and possessive.
He pulls the shirt up over my head and tosses it down the hallway, and his eyes drop to my chest with an unmistakable hunger before his mouth follows.
He palms my breasts through my bra, his thumbs working over the lace until I’m arching into his hands, then tugs the cups down to free them.
His mouth closes over one of my nipples in a slow, hot pull, and I let out a soft, helpless sound that I don’t quite recognize.
His hands drop to my waistband. He works the button open, drags the zipper down, and slides my pants down my legs in one slow movement, kneeling as he goes.
He hooks his fingers into my panties next, peeling them off the same slow way, his mouth pressing kisses to the inside of my thigh as he works them down to my ankles.
I step out of them clumsily, my knees already feeling unsteady.
He’s on his knees in front of me now, looking up. His hands settle on my hips, and he presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss right against me before he even spreads me open. The warm, wet press of his mouth against my pussy makes me shiver, my hips twitching forward of their own accord.
“Look at you. Already so wet for me.”
He hooks one of my legs up over his shoulder, opening me up for him, and the first slow stroke of his tongue against my clit has me jerking against the wall.
I plant a hand against it to steady myself.
My other hand finds the back of his head, my fingers sinking into his hair.
He licks me slow and steady at first, the flat of his tongue dragging warm and wet, then tightens his focus, drawing slow circles around my clit that make my thighs start to tremble.
He starts to alternate. Slow and steady, then faster, the rhythm shifting just when I think I’m finding my footing in it. My legs are shaking by the time he speeds up properly, my fingers tightening in his hair, and the pressure starts to build hot and fast at the base of my spine.
“You taste so fucking sweet. I could do this all night.”
I’m not going to last. I can feel the orgasm starting to climb, my breath coming in short little gasps, my hips pressing forward against his mouth.
Then he slows down. Long, lazy strokes. Almost no pressure on my clit. The build inside me sputters and starts to ebb, and a frustrated whimper slips out of me before I can stop it.
He lifts his head and looks up at me. His mouth is wet, his eyes dancing with mischief, and the slow smirk that pulls at his lips is so smug I almost want to slap it off him.
“Did you want something?”
“Reed.”
“This is me returning the favor, baby. For everything you did today.”
I let out a half-laugh, half-groan, my head dropping back against the wall. I can feel my cheeks burning.
“Including a certain phone call where you nearly killed me.”
“You volunteered to take that call.”
“You’re the one who told me to.”
He chuckles low against my thigh, and the warm vibration of it makes me shiver.
I bite down on my bottom lip, caught between begging and laughing.
I absolutely brought this on myself. The worst part is that I’m not even sorry, because the slow, deliberate way he’s drawing this out, the way he keeps looking up at me to gauge my reactions, the way he’s clearly enjoying every second of torturing me—all of it is winding me up tighter than I’ve ever been.
“Reed, please.”
“Not yet.”
He goes back to teasing me, dragging me close again and then easing back, never quite giving me enough to tip over. By the time he finally lifts his mouth away entirely, I’m shaking against the wall, soaked, my veins buzzing with frustrated need.
He stands up and grips my hips, turning me to face the wall in one easy motion. His palm slides up between my shoulder blades, warm against my skin, and he applies a gentle pressure that has me bending forward.
“Hands on the wall. Bend over for me.”
I do, my palms flattening against the cool wall, my body folding forward until my back is bent at a steep angle.
I’m exposed and open, and the cool air on my heated skin makes a fresh wave of want roll through me.
I hear him drop back down to his knees behind me, and then his hands are on my ass, cupping and spreading me as his mouth finds a new angle.
He eats me like he’s starving. The sounds are obscene, wet and loud and hungry, and the soft pleased noises he keeps making against me are working me up almost more than his tongue is. His hands knead at my ass, his fingers digging in as he pulls me back into his mouth.
Then I feel his tongue start to drag higher. The warm, wet trail moves up between my cheeks, and a second before I register where he’s headed, I feel his tongue circle my asshole.
I jump, my palms sliding against the wall, my whole face going hot. I twist my head around to look at him over my shoulder.
His eyes are already on me, a slow heated smirk pulling at his mouth as he watches my reaction.
“What are you—” My voice breaks off, and I have to start over. “What are you doing?”
“Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time.”
I bite my lip. My cheeks have to be burning so bright he can see them from where he is. No one has ever done that to me before, and the fact that Reed is on his knees behind me, his hands gripping my ass and his mouth still wet, makes my stomach flip.
“Does it feel good?” His voice is lower now. His thumb traces a line along the curve of my hip. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want it.”
I’m quiet for a few seconds. The honest answer is that it does feel good. The drag of his tongue, the warmth of his breath, the way he’s exploring something I’ve never let anyone touch? It’s… different, but my body has no complaints at all.
“Yes.” I chew on my lip for a second, then add in a whisper, “Keep going.”
He chuckles, sounding incredibly pleased.
Then he lowers his head and gets back to it, and I drop my forehead onto my arm against the wall as his tongue circles my back hole until I’m squirming.
Then his hand slides between my legs from below, and two of his fingers thrust inside me with no warning, his thumb finding my clit at the same time.
The combination of all of it at once makes my knees wobble.
“Oh my god!” I squeak out.
“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me.”
Biting my lip, I try to follow his instructions, sinking into it, my forehead pressed to my arm, my hips rocking back against his mouth and his hand.
He keeps working all three places at once with his tongue, fingers, and thumb, and the pleasure climbs fast, arcing through me.
My thighs are shaking. My breath is coming in shallow little pants against my own skin.
“Reed…” I moan.
“I’ve got you, baby. Let go for me.”
“I can’t—I’m gonna—”
“Of course you can. Come for me.”