Chapter Sixteen
Olivia
T he suite is insane. The modern decor is unexpected, given how old the hotel is. But it’s light, breezy, almost a beachy vibe with a hint of old-fashioned features like the paneling and the embroidered chaise lounge in the corner of the room.
The whiter-than-white bedding has an outrageous amount of pillows and looks straight out of a magazine.
Every surface of the ensuite is covered in marble, with a clawfoot tub on the left by a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city.
A walk-in shower is surely big enough for two, if not three.
The thrum of warmth in my lower belly hits me unexpectedly at the thought of what could happen this weekend.
Tonight has to be the night surely? We’ve been waiting and waiting, and now that I know we’re on the same page, I’m ready for this to go to the next level.
After dinner, I reach my arms over my head in a faux sleepy stretch. There’s no way I’m sleeping now. Not when I’ve been eyeing Austin up and down like he’s what I’ve been ordering for dessert all night.
“Bedtime, Killer.”
He walks with me to the room, looking so calm. He hasn’t spoken much over dinner; he is probably as tired as I am after a full day of walking and talking.
Although I didn’t know he was coming, I’ve brought my silky sleep set I know he loves. It makes me feel close to him, and I'm suddenly so grateful I did. I can feel his eyes roaming over my skin as if it were his fingertips.
“Goodnight, Killer,” he says in the doorway.
“Wait.” I frown. “Where are you sleeping?”
He points down to a closed door.
“On the same floor this time, at least,” I mutter, unable to quell the disappointment in my tone.
He steps into the room towards me, and hope blooms like a flower at the first sign of warm weather.
Cupping my cheek, he says, “Still not close enough, Olivia.” His chin dips until he drops the lightest of kisses on the corner of my mouth.
He draws back, and the thought of him leaving me here alone leaves me full of desperation.
I’m more desperate than the day I asked him to help me to my car, more desperate than when he chased me through the house when I realized he wasn’t chained anymore.
I pull him into me, his chest thudding against mine.
“Olivia . . .”
“Austin...” I push up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
They’re soft, smooth; he seems to freeze for a split second.
The longest split second of my life, and I brace for disappointment.
Brace for him to reject me again. But he moves.
His fingers intertwine with my loose hair, kneading the back of my neck.
In one swoop, his body presses against mine, and he spins me against the wall.
He uses his foot to spread my legs, sliding his knee between them.
The corded muscle of his thigh pushes against the ache of my center.
My silky shorts smoothing his rough touch, I can feel them growing damp between my thighs.
It’s like a switch has flipped. He finally has not only my permission, but my participation.
I’m not waiting for him any longer. If I thought about it too much, this crazy situation we’re in, I might back out.
I might talk myself out of it. But there’s no time to think.
His lips are demanding, his tongue daring to taste the entrance of my mouth.
I’m clinging to his shoulders, desperate to ground myself in the moment.
Each time I feel like I’ve got my footing, he shifts again, tasting and touching from a new angle.
The constant uncertainty leaves me breathless, unable to keep my balance.
His large palm hooks under my thigh, and he wraps my leg around him.
And that’s when I feel it. The tight fabric of his jeans can’t keep him contained.
He thrusts against me, and the length of him grinds between my legs.
Pleasure thrills through me until I feel it zip around my shoulders and down my arms, goosebumps raising the hairs along my skin.
The earthy scent of him fills my nostrils, engulfing my senses.
There’s nothing else to think about. Nothing but pure need binding us together.
Was this inevitable? It’s been two years since he came into Squeeze the Day, two years of scowling and hatred.
Now within two weeks, he’s turned my world upside down.
What would Danny think of us? What would my parents think if they were alive?
Do I even care at this moment? I haven’t taken a risk since my parents died.
I’ve been the dutiful daughter and sister, taking care of Danny.
When others were partying, I was studying, building my business.
I’ve done nothing selfish in a long time, and I need this.
I need him. His dizzying obsession fuels a longing in me to be wanted, to be loved .
I’m drunk on his kisses, drunk on the feeling of his fingers digging into my flesh as he grinds against me.
His whimpering moans roll from his throat in soft, needy growls.
My body follows suit, gasping as he gyrates his hips against me again and again.
Suddenly, I’m all too aware of the surge of wetness leaking between my thighs.
His lips leave mine for a second, and he opens his eyes, his forehead resting against mine.
A thumb grazes against my nipple; he remembers how sensitive they are as I arch and moan.
He smiles wickedly before pressing his lips back against mine, his tongue licking and nipping at my mouth.
He moves deftly, smoothing his other palm around my back and down to my ass, and in one thrust, he has my feet off the ground and wrapped around his waist.
“Austin,” I breathe, “I’ve wanted this for so long. ”
“What did you want, Killer?” he whispers.
“You...this...from that first day. I...can’t explain it. You’ve done something to me. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Was I really doing this? With a man that I know is dangerous?
“What was it supposed to be?”
“I was supposed to be in control.”
“Is that really what you want? To be in control? Doesn’t being out of control feel good?” He bites down my neck, and my skin lights up in uncontrolled goosebumps.
I want to lie. I want to tell him that I love being in control.
I love the power it gives me to have everything in order, to be in charge.
But the toll it takes has been catching up with me.
The stress of managing my life, Danny’s life, his supposed criminal boss.
It’s like I’ve snapped and now I’m running into dangerous territory.
Territory that led me to chase a high I’ve only ever felt one time, when I stole him and chained him in my basement.
Maybe it’s recklessness? The utter stupidity of being in my early twenties with nothing to lose. Except my life, my heart, my willpower.
“I want to be out of control,” I whisper.
He hums, his lips trailing down the column of my throat.
“You can let go with me, Olivia. I’m going to take care of you. Of everything… you just have to let me in.”
He pauses; his head tilts back so he can look at me.
I’m starting to understand. His intensity.
His fascination. It’s been longer for him, maybe since before the abduction.
I can’t believe it took me so long to realize.
I have so many questions. Why hasn’t he spoken to me before?
Why has he left it up to me to do something so drastic before even talking to me?
He owes me answers, but the feel of his lips against my neck washes away all thoughts of the mystery he presents.
As the heat in my belly reaches a precipice, he gently drops me back down on the floor with the utmost care.
He steps back, running a hand over his mouth and stubble.
He stares so intently. He’s wavering; he might leave and I don’t think I could bear it.
“I shou—”
He stops mid-sentence as I pull my tank top up over my head in one fell swoop.
There’s no tease, no timid display of embarrassment.
I’m done fighting this. Hell, I'm fighting for it from now on. I want this. I want him. Regardless of how we got here. Regardless of the fact that I think he might be the head of a criminal organization, my gut tells me he won’t hurt me.
He’ll protect Danny. He’ll take care of us.
He hisses, turning his head away but snapping his eyes back, like his body knows he shouldn’t, but he just can’t stop himself.
I pull my shorts down next. I’m not wearing any panties, so when the silk fabric hits the floor, I’m bare.
I step toward him. “Take control, Austin. I want you to take control.”
“Fuck, you’re more than I ever imagined.” His head shakes as his eyes dart around, jumping back and forth between different parts of me. I’m not sure he even meant to say that out loud. Just the thought of him out of control sets my lungs on fire.
“You imagined this?”
His head tilts, and his eyes sharpen as if to ask how I could be so dumb.
“No, Olivia. I’ve fantasized over this. I’ve obsessed over this. I’ve had this exact moment running through my head for so long, my dick is practically weeping with joy that it’s finally going to feel that tight pussy and not just my fist.”
I huff out a slow breath, running my fingers down his chest, exploring each muscle as I dip to his waist.
“Let’s live out the fantasy.” My voice is steady. I leave all doubt and nerves out of my voice. I give him nothing to use to back out. I know he wants this, but he has to make the move. And if he decides he can’t, for whatever reason, I’ll know. I’ll end this infatuation now .
But he doesn’t. He takes me in, and his eyes darken like a switch has flipped. This is the man I’ve known him to be all along. So in control. So dominating.
“Get on the bed, Olivia.”