Oakley
Forty
Imake it back to the house in half the time it usually takes me, and when I see Levi’s truck parked in the driveway, relief floods me. I climb out of my car on shaking legs, grab the bags of groceries, and practically run into the house, kicking the door shut behind me with a crash.
“Levi!” His name comes out as a choked sob as the air gets caught in my throat, and it takes everything in me not to crumple in a heap right there on the hardwood.
Bandit rushes over to me, but I ignore him as I deposit the bags on the ground next to the door.
I need a minute to calm my racing heart, to breathe and soak in the feeling of comfort and safety I’ve found within these walls.
The door is hard and unyielding against my back, and I lose the fight to stay standing and slump to the floor, breathless.
Levi walks in, his forest-green eyes bright, but his smile falls when he takes me in.
He’s across the hallway and sweeping me up into his arms before I can take my next shuddering breath.
I tremble in his hold as he carries me into the kitchen and places me down on the counter.
He cups my face in both hands, forcing me to look at him.
“What happened?” he demands, his voice lethally calm. His eyes flit over every inch of my face, as if trying to decipher a map. Like the worried lines on my forehead might tell him what happened before my words can.
When I don't answer—my shock still too raw to put it into words—his brow furrows, and his eyes soften a fraction.
“Baby, talk to me. Please,” he pleads, his voice cracking slightly, and something about seeing his stoic facade breaking in front of me is enough to shake me from my trance.
“Travis is here. In town.”
His body stills and hardens under my hands, which are resting limply against his chest. A tense quiet falls between us while he processes my words. When he finally breaks the silence, his question is so quiet that I can barely make out the words.
“Did he hurt you?”
I shake my head quickly, dislodging a singular tear that slides down my cheek and disappears beneath his hand. He still hasn’t let go of my face, and I draw in a shaky breath at the caress of his touch and the warmth of his skin.
“I was coming out of the grocery store, and he drove past me. I don’t think he saw me.
” The quiver in my voice is punctuated by the small sigh of relief that Levi lets out.
He holds me tighter, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into him.
I rest my head against his chest as he runs soothing circles over my back, not saying anything, just standing with me and lending a quiet support.
Time slows down until I think it’s stopped entirely, everything around us quieting and narrowing to focus on where we’re connected. And maybe that’s why I feel so at ease with him—because his mere presence stills the world around us and quiets the chaos within me.
“We’ll figure this out. Maybe not right now, but we will. I promise.”
The tight ball of anxiety in my chest loosens ever so slightly. “I’m scared. I don’t know why he can’t just leave me alone.”
“Because he’s a manipulative prick who doesn’t care about anything or anyone but himself and his own selfish desires. My father was the same way. People like that…” He stops himself, shaking his head like he doesn’t want to finish the sentence.
“What am I going to do?” My voice is timid, but I’m calmer with Levi here holding me.
“What are we going to do?” he corrects. “I can put a call in to the Sheriff and have him add an extra patrol by the bar.”
“No. If Travis sees a bigger police presence, it could set him off.” Travis has always hated the police, and there’s no telling what he might do if he thinks I had anything to do with their increased patrols.
“Oakley, I—”
“No,” I repeat, firmer this time. The conviction in my voice, the steel in my gaze—it’s enough.
Levi relents. “Okay.” His voice is both hard and soft, and I let out an exhale at his acquiescence, whether he understands or not.
“I missed you,” I admit softly.
He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I relax further into his embrace.
“I missed you too. I hated being away from you. Especially when you were being such a little tease last night.”
I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to distract me and get my mind off the colossal pain in my ass I just saw driving down the main street of my town.
Maybe it’s the way the teasing lilt to his voice slithers over my skin, or the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, but my blood heats at his words and the memory that accompanies them.
“If I remember correctly, you got just as much out of that as I did,” I whisper.
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
I pull back and frown up at him, but he continues.
“Do you have any idea how hard it was to listen to those needy little noises and not be able to touch you?”
He drags his hand down the length of my back and follows the shape of my spine with his fingertips. A shudder runs through me as a rush of burning hot desire floods my panties. His lips find the shell of my ear.
“How utterly agonizing it was to hear you moan my name as you came, and not have the pleasure of cleaning you up with my tongue?”
Oh, God.
He runs that wicked tongue from the base of my ear all the way down the length of my neck. My entire body arches for him, bringing us impossibly closer. I want this. Want him.
He flicks his tongue into the divot at the base of my neck, his attention so focused on that singular spot that I wonder if he can feel my pulse fluttering erratically just below the surface of my skin.
He drags his tongue back up my neck, the cool path trailing goosebumps in its wake, but too soon, the sensation is gone, and I want to cry out at the loss of him.
My eyes fly open to meet his, my storm-cloud gray clashing with his forest green, to form something I don’t have the words to express.
Electricity arcs between us, but it’s not just the spark of physical craving. It’s an emotional connection unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s as if our souls are speaking through our eyes, and the longer we stare, the closer we get to finally understanding this thing between us.
There’s a vulnerability here between us, like the feeling of freefalling through the air into the blue waters below. Just like that day, weeks ago, where I found myself teetering on the edge of a cliff, I’m eager to jump.
“Kiss me,” I breathe.
His mouth crashes down on mine, and the kiss is anything but sweet. It’s feral, hungry, alive in every nip of our teeth and clash of our tongues. His lips are bruising, as he kisses me with a desperation I’ve never felt before, but one that matches my own.
I meet each stroke of his tongue as I tangle my fingers in the hair at the base of his skull and tug. His animalistic growl of approval sends another shot of liquid heat straight to my core.
Levi’s hands grip my hips so hard I think they might bruise, and my nipples harden at the thought of being marked by him.
Claimed by him. One minute he’s kissing me, and the next, he’s tearing his lips from mine.
I whine in protest, before a startled gasp escapes me as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my leggings and gives a small tug.
Not enough to pull them down, but enough to convey what he wants.
His eyes hold a desperate question when they meet mine. They’re darkened with lust, the normally bright green dulling to a shadowed gray, as if the color of my own eyes has somehow bled into them. His breathing comes in ragged pants. His parted lips are swollen and glisten with my kiss.
There’s ferocious longing in the fine lines of his face as he plays with my waistband again, a demand and a plea all wrapped into one, as if he can’t decide whether to command me from above or worship me from his knees.
If I’m not already addicted to him, I am well on my way.
His fingers twitch against my skin, but he makes no move to go any further.
I release his neck and lean back on my hands, lifting my hips off the counter in silent invitation.
Levi grins and pulls the leggings down, leaving the simple cotton panties in place.
The cool marble countertop is a stark contrast to my flushed skin, cool and hard beneath me.
When my leggings are in a pile on the floor, Levi grips the hem of my T-shirt and helps me out of it. I’m completely enthralled by him. A heady mix of desire, trepidation, and delirium courses through my bloodstream.
“Lean back for me.”
I do so immediately, noting the twitch of his lips when he recognizes my obedience.
He runs a calloused hand across my chest, his fingers teasing my peaked nipples through my bra before pulling each cup down until I’m exposed to him.
His hand drags over me again, this time skin against skin, and he swirls the pads of his fingers around each rosy bud.
I moan, tossing my head back, loving the zing of arousal that shoots straight down to my clit each time his fingers pass over the sensitive buds.
His hands find the backs of my knees, and he parts my legs, spreading me wide as his eyes feast on the wet spot between them.
The scrutiny of his gaze is enough to have the air whooshing from my lungs.
He licks his lips, looking every single bit a starved man with a grand feast before him.
With achingly slow movements, he trails his fingers down the front of my stomach and then lower, and my pulse thunders in my ears as I follow them.
I want to watch, want to experience every single thing this man has planned for me.
Everything that’s been building between us the past few weeks is at a tipping point, the anticipation so thick in the air that I could choke on it while I wait for it to finally shatter.
His fingers brush over my clit through the thin cotton, and I hiss in a breath through my teeth, my chest heaving when they continue their path lower to settle right over my entrance. He pushes against me, adding more pressure, and I can feel how drenched I am.
He plays with my arousal, before removing his fingers and holding them up between us. A flush burns my cheeks, but Levi looks victorious.
“Is this all for me?”
I’m so turned on right now I think I might burst into flames right here on the counter. Each teasing touch and sinful word out of his mouth has me climbing higher and higher, and he’s barely even touched me yet.
He takes me in, a look of reverence on his face before he grips my panties and yanks them down my legs. I yelp in surprise at the sudden forcefulness of the movement.
He wrenches me towards him until I’m right at the edge of the counter before hooking my right leg around his waist. I cling to him, loving the feel of the hard muscle against me. He widens my other leg, opening me up for him, and the cool air on my soaked pussy makes it that much more sensitive.
I’m aching, my pulse throbbing in my clit, as I beg with my eyes for him to touch me, fuck me, fill me.
Levi runs a teasing finger through my slit, and I groan at the fraction of relief that motion grants me, unable to stop the wordless encouragement falling from my parted lips.
“Mmm, look at you. Your pussy is weeping for me.”
I swear to God his filthy words are enough to send me over the edge all on their own.
“Words, baby,” he says patiently, pausing his movements and locking eyes with me as he waits for my response.
“Yes,” I breathe.
He rewards me with another swipe through my slit, this time circling up and around my clit, and I nearly jerk clean off the counter at the jolt of pleasure.
“I want to hear you say it. Tell me who you’re wet for.” He does it again, circling from my entrance to my clit and sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending.
“You! I’m s-soaked f-for you,” I pant, and then cry out when he plunges a finger deep inside me, bucking my hips to meet his hand. He chuckles darkly and pumps his finger in and out a few times before adding another. His fingers are thick and meticulous as they fuck into me.
If he keeps this up, I’m going to come in seconds. I can already feel the coiling low in my belly, and my pussy flutters around his fingers as he moves them.
“Thaaat’s it, baby. You needed this. You like my fingers deep inside you like this?” He curls his fingers, and, oh my fucking God, he’s hitting that spot I was convinced was a myth before I met him. His other hand lands on my lower stomach, right above my pelvic bone, keeping me still.
When he pushes down with that hand and curls up with his fingers again, the pressure and stimulation makes my walls pulsate around him. I cry out as my quaking arms struggle to keep me upright.
“You’re close, aren’t you, baby? Yeah, I can feel it. Your pussy is gripping my fingers so fucking tight right now, trying to suck them in even deeper. Greedy fucking girl. That’s it. Let go for me.”
My orgasm builds, every filthy word and each plunge and curl of his fingers shoving me closer and closer to the edge. It’s so close I can practically taste the sweet oblivion on my tongue when he pushes his thumb down on my clit and rubs hard.
I fucking shatter.
“Yessss,” he groans. “Fuck, you break so beautifully.”
Wave after wave of pleasure rolls through my body as he continues his movements, radiating out from my core and all the way down to my toes. I don’t even have the good sense to feel ashamed about it.
“Aaaattagirrrl.”
His growl sends another shockwave through me, and my pussy clenches around his fingers again, clinging to the pleasure they’re giving me. He strokes me through my orgasm. Only when my body goes limp, and I sag back against the counter with a satisfied sigh, does he withdraw.
A light sheen of sweat covers my body, and my limbs are limp, but I am nowhere near sated right now, and the quirk of his brow tells me he knows it, too.
My pupils blow wide in my lust-drunk haze as I watch him wrap his lips around his fingers and suck.
He groans at the taste of me, leaving nothing behind as he sucks his fingers clean of me, a satisfied, confident smile on his face.
“That was incredible,” I breathe out, still trying and failing to catch my breath.
“That,” he starts as he leans forward to kiss me, my taste lingering on his lips and reheating my blood, “was only a fraction of what I have planned for you.”