with hidden reserves of confidence who, if pushed, could utter the things she wants to do with a man, to do to a man, to have a man do to her.”
Her eyes went wide, pupils flaring. God, the things he was going to do to her tonight. He gently pressed his thumb into her mouth, and she sucked on it, rolling her tongue around it. His dick throbbed in appreciation, wishing for its turn in that warmth. But there would be time for that later.
“We barely know each other, Olivia . . .and after tonight, it’s unlikely that our paths will ever cross again. But will you trust me with every part of your body anyway?”
He wanted her consent more than he was willing to admit to himself.
Olivia reached for his hand and pulled his thumb from her mouth, all the while keeping her eyes on him. “Your words make me feel braver than I truly am,” she said softly. “So, yes, I trust you.”
A wash of relief flooded through him. “Good. Talk to me. You like something, you tell me. Something isn’t working, you tell me. You want to try something, you tell me. Got it?”
Olivia smiled shyly, a hint of pink touching her cheeks. “Got it.”
Anders took her hand and led her to the bed. He clicked on the small lamp on the side table, and then reached into his luggage for the condoms he always travelled with before throwing them on the bed.
“As hot as you look in this,” he said, unfastening the clasp of her bra, “you won’t be needing it.” He removed her underwear and heels until she stood as naked as he was. His fingers deliberately scraped across her nipples, traced the line of her clit where he found her to be wet and warm.
“I need more of this,” he said, kneeling in front of her. “Let yourself go, Olivia, I’ve got you.” He gripped her ass with one hand, pulling her towards his face, while his thumb opened her to him. She smelled musky and sweet, her hair trimmed short. With his tongue, he circled her clit. It was red, swollen, aroused. His challenge with Olivia wasn’t physical, it was mental. Maybe it had taken extra foreplay in the past to get her to this point, foreplay he had all night for, but someone had led her to believe that needing foreplay meant something was wrong with her.
“Fuck, Olivia,” he muttered. “You taste so good. So wet. When I slide into you later, I already know it’s going to feel amazing.”
Olivia gripped his hair with both hands as her knees shook. “Anders,” she cried. She bucked once, then a second time against him, and then stopped. He loved the action and, reaching behind her to cup the other cheek of her ass, he began to nudge her towards him and then push her away, savoring the way she rocked against him. The rhythm of his tongue against her clit was constant. She started to take over, holding his hair tighter, changing the angle so he could reach more of her with his tongue.
Perhaps she was getting close, there was an urgency to her movements.
He could tell immediately the moment she was back inside her head. Her grip released, her movements stiffened, and a muffled cry of frustration filled the room.
Gently, he nudged her back onto the bed until she was seated, her feet still on the floor. He took one foot and kissed the tip of her toe before placing it back on the floor in a wider stance. More open for him, he pressed his face against her, not giving a shit about the wetness on his chin. As she writhed, he slid one finger inside her, then a second, making sure to reach for that spot, the one that would help her detonate.
Her stomach clenched, the muscles in her legs were taut. “Anders, oh, yes . . .just like that. Maybe . . .harder.”
He grinned as he nipped her clit gently between his lips. Harder he could do. And if harder was what she liked, then he was going to have a fucking explosive orgasm later. He watched for a moment as his fingers slid out of her, covered in her wetness.
Anders’s balls pulsed at the idea of his own release, a vision of coming in her and on her flashed through his mind before he reined in his baser instincts. She wasn’t his. This wasn’t a relationship. It was just