Heartless Hunk - Ann Omasta Page 0,40

him inside. The front desk was empty, but I’d been intending to ignore the inappropriate clerk anyway.

It was Oliver’s hand’s turn to shake as he worked to get our door unlocked. Seeing the evidence of his nerves made me realize that this was important to him, too. I slid my palms inside his shirt and smoothed them along his sides and up to his pecks. He sucked in a breath and said, “You’re not helping.”

When he finally got the latch to work, we walked inside. He slammed the door shut, and I whirled around to back him up against it. Our mouths found each other as I pressed my body into his.

Oliver tore his lips away. “Vi, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’m positive. I need your healing touch on my skin.” I answered immediately, my voice sounding deeper than normal. To add action to my words, I moved my hand down to cup him over his jeans. Tipping my head up to give him a flirty smile, I said, “It feels like you want my touch, too.”

“So much,” he answered before crushing his lips down to mine.

Needing to feel connected to him in every way possible, I reached down to glide my leggings down. As soon as I stood back up, Oliver plunged a finger inside me.

“Oh!” I cried out as I clung to him.

My hands made their way down to release him from his jeans. I lowered to my knees as I slid his pants down his legs and he kicked them aside. His cock jutted out in my direction. Purposely, looking up at him, I ran my tongue along his length before taking him into my mouth. He sucked a breath in between his teeth and fisted my hair.

“Condom,” he croaked out the word.

I was reluctant to remove my mouth from him, but I managed to, simply because I wanted to feel him inside me. While he stalked over to the bedside table to retrieve a packet, I removed the rest of my clothes and splayed myself out like a starfish against the wall.

Oliver was looking down as he rolled on the condom. When his eyes rose up and he caught sight of how I was positioned and waiting for him, his appreciative gaze nearly melted me. He took long strides and made short work of closing the distance between us.

When he lifted me, I wrapped my limbs tightly around him. We kissed and moaned into each other’s mouths as I sank down onto his length.

The tender, aching slowness of our previous lovemaking was nowhere to be found as he held me against the wall and we slammed our bodies together. We were like desperate, starving, lonely souls trying to cure each other’s ailments by providing hot, fast pleasure.

I couldn’t get enough of him as our bodies slapped together. It was rough and raunchy and remarkable. I had never become so lost in the act, or so lost in my partner. I no longer knew where he ended and where I began, and I didn’t care. All that mattered was the frantic union of our parts.

He slid in and out of me as I clawed at his back, aching to bring our bodies even closer. Clamping onto him, I cried out and bit his shoulder as the orgasm ripped through me. He met my incoherent moans with a loud groan of release as he pumped up into me.

We stood there, pressed together as the last ripples of pleasure made their way through our systems. I tenderly kissed his shoulder where my teeth had just been––relieved to see that I hadn’t broken the skin.

Lifting my full weight from the wall, he carried me to the bed. Although he made it appear to be an effortless task, I knew that I was heavier than I looked.

We settled ourselves on the mattress and curled into a comfortable naked snuggle. He tenderly kissed my temple and asked, “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to lose control like that.”

“No.” I promised him. “And I was right there losing control with you.” I ran a fingertip lightly along the bite mark on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave here,” he whispered.

I nodded my head in agreement with his sentiment. Once we left the secluded, happy sex bubble of this room, we would have to return to the real world where he was a consummate player, and I was a lonely widow.

It was tempting to try to hold on to him