28. Drake
Drake
I wasn't planning to tell Olivia I love her.
It was on my mind, and I knew I wanted to say it soon, but I was thinking of a more romantic setting.
But being there with her after finding out we're having twins was the perfect time.
I love her. Olivia is going to be the mother of my children, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her.
Even though I never imagined myself saying those three words to a woman, nothing has ever felt so natural.
I drop Olivia on the bed, and she giggles as she sits up on her elbows and kisses me again. Her hands reach for my neck to pull me in, the passion between us stronger than it has ever been.
“Say it again,” Olivia says when she pulls away, watching me as she falls back on the mattress.
“Olivia Porter, I love you,” I happily say as the grin on her face grows.
I climb on top of her and kiss her again, savoring the taste of her lips. My hands explore her body, running up her sides to caress her breasts. I feel her nipple peaking in my palm and massage it gently, tasting the moan that escapes her.
“I love the way you taste,” I say when I pull away from her. I take my shirt off and feel shivers on my skin as her hands explore my muscles and my body awakens. Olivia sits up and takes her shirt off as I reach around and unclasp her bra.
She climbs into my lap and pushes me onto the mattress as she kisses me, sitting up after a few moments with her breasts in my face.
I eagerly take them in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the hardened buds.
I close my eyes, listening to how much pleasure I can bring her and feeling my cock throb in my pants.
“I love the way you turn me on so quickly,” I say when she pulls farther back from me.
“Do you love the way your cock feels in my mouth?” Olivia asks with a devilish grin. Excitement rushes through me, and all the blood in my body rushes to my groin.
“Definitely,” I say as she lowers herself on the bed, unbuttons my pants, and pulls them down.
She stares at my cock, smiling at it as her tongue teases the tip.
She wraps a hand around it and slowly moves it up and down to tease me.
I lean back on the mattress and eye her eagerly as her tongue traces its way up my shaft, soaking it in her saliva.
After a few moments, she presses her lips against the tip, kissing it gently before wrapping them around it.
“Fuck yes,” I moan as the warmth of her mouth surrounds me. She looks at me with her big blue eyes and works more of me into her mouth, bobbing her head. She moans with my cock in her mouth and starts losing control while she tastes me.
I reach down, gather her hair, and pull it to the side so nothing can obscure my view. After a few minutes, she pulls her mouth away to give her jaw a rest as she continues pumping my cock, flicking her tongue against the tip to tease me.
My muscles tense as she keeps moving, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. Whenever she feels me getting too close, she stops and pulls back, licking my shaft slowly.
“You’re such a tease,” I whisper with a satisfied smile, feeling the pleasure mount in my cock with every sweep of her tongue. She nods before taking me back in her mouth and bobbing her head once again. I savor every movement, but when I get too close to coming, I push her away.
I sit up and pull her back up on the bed, setting her on her back. “I love the way your pussy feels throbbing around my cock,” I whisper as I slowly fill her.
Her body spasms as I sit up on my knees and push her legs against the mattress.
I have to stay still for a moment as I feel her around me just to keep from exploding inside of her before I'm ready.
When my body settles down, I move my hips and thrust long and hard inside of her, letting her take every inch.
She doesn't hold back, moaning on the mattress, her body shaking from the pleasure.
“Yes, Drake!” she cries out, gripping the bed sheets tightly. “You make me feel so good; I love it.”
I slow my pace, knowing I want to savor this. The longer I hold off, the more intense the pleasure will be. I seat myself deep inside of her and lean in, slowly grinding my hips as I kiss her, tasting myself in her mouth.
My lips move from hers to her neck, looking at the soft skin and gently nibbling it.
My mouth lowers again, landing between her breasts as I continue to move my hips against hers.
Her fingers run through my hair, holding my head to her breast as my tongue swirls around it, stimulating her as I quicken my pace inside.
“I want to feel you come, Olivia,” I say, thrusting harder as her body trembles and her breath quickens. She nods but doesn’t say anything because she’s overwhelmed with pleasure as she whimpers and moans.
I massage one of her breasts, rubbing my thumb over her hardened nipple as I feel her pussy tightening and contracting around me. Then, she cries out, her eyes rolling back as her mouth hangs open. “Oh my… Drake!” she shouts.
It's enough to send me over the edge, and I feel my cock throbbing as I come inside of her, filling her with every ounce of my seed.
When we’re done, I lie beside her, tracing my fingers along her curves as she pants beside me and tries to catch her breath. Her fingers lace through my hair, and she kisses me, her tongue exploring the far reaches of my mouth.
“I love you so much,” Olivia says with a content sigh.
We lie in bed together for a while, kissing and touching each other. Eventually, she sits up and looks toward the bathroom. I stand up, walk inside, and grab her a towel, which she uses between her legs quickly before standing up and heading for a shower.
I hear the water turn on shortly after. I have half a mind to join her, but there's plenty of time for that another day.
I slip into a pair of sweatpants and tiptoe to the kitchen.
Since she's been living here, she's almost singlehandedly taken on the cooking.
The least I can do is try my best to make her dinner after everything she's been through today.
It might be easier—and tastier—to order takeout, but I think she'll at least appreciate the effort.
I stand at the counter, looking through recipes on my phone that I think she would enjoy.
Olivia loves comfort food. That's the inspiration for the restaurant she wants to open, anyway.
When I think of comfort food, I think of something simple and easy to make.
For me, that's crispy, fried chicken tenders and mashed potatoes.
I have a vague idea of how to make them thanks to the cooking shows Olivia always has on. I know I need to bread the chicken and fry it, but I'm at a loss when it comes to seasonings and general tastiness.
Turns out, there are hundreds of thousands of recipes on Google claiming to make the best fried chicken tenders. I look through a couple, trying to figure out the best before landing on one that looks mouthwatering in the photo.
I grab the ingredients from the cabinets and fridge, setting out the components as I've seen Olivia do countless times.
Then, I prepare and mix the egg wash and dry batter.
I make a huge mess mixing everything and battering the chicken before putting it in a pan to fry.
It's louder than I intended, and Olivia comes into the kitchen with a surprised look.
“Need a hand?” she asks as she takes in the chaos.
“Absolutely not,” I say, shooing her away from the stove. “I want to do this for you. It might look like a mess, but you have to trust the process because this is going to be the best damn fried chicken you've ever had.”
She laughs and raises her eyebrows in a silent challenge before taking a seat at the counter to watch. I can see her questioning everything I do, wishing she could take my place and make this chicken the right way. I hold out hope that I will impress her because I want to more than I care to admit.
I force her into the dining room when I'm almost done so that I can plate everything and serve it to her just like she did for me the night she catered dinner here.
After setting everything in front of her, seeing how perfectly golden brown the skin of the chicken is and how creamy and buttery the mashed potatoes are, I feel proud.
I sit beside her and watch intensely as she picks it up, analyzing it for a moment before taking a bite. Her eyes widen as she looks at me.
“I was prepared to lie to you, but I'm so relieved that I don't have to,” Olivia says, taking another hungry bite of the food. “Maybe I should let you in the kitchen more often.”
“This is what you have to look forward to when you're on bed rest,” I say, surprising myself with how good the chicken tastes.
“Well then, I can't wait.”
Olivia and I spend the rest of the day together.
We don't do anything, it's mundane and simple and somehow the best way I could imagine spending my life.
If I had to choose between this or some extravagant trip to Italy or New York, I would always choose this.
I think that's what falling in love is. I just want to be with her, all the time.
Whether she's reading a book or mixing dough in the kitchen, I'm content.
We have a long road ahead, but I am ready to spend the rest of my life with her.