her lips along my jaw and onto my throat. Her teeth nip, her tongue laves, and above it all, the inferno building between her legs becomes almost too hot to touch. “One time, William. Because I want you, even though I’m not supposed to. Even though it’s really bad.”
“It’s not bad to want me, Olivia.” I lift her from the counter and carry her through the living room and into the hall. “I promise it’s not a bad thing to want to be with me.”
“It’s so bad,” she whimpers and bites my neck. Is she punishing me for allowing her to have me? Is she punishing herself? “It’s going to ruin everything I’ve worked for.”
“We’ll worry about it later.”
I step into one of two bedrooms, note the leather couch, the computer console, and canvas prints on the walls. The yoga mat laid out on the floor, the tiny speaker on a tiny shelf in the corner. Office. Not her bedroom, so I back out again and easily carry her weight to the next door while she wars with my shirt.
She leans back and makes herself so much heavier because of her angle, but I don’t stop her as she drags my shirt up and catches it on my chin until my neck snaps back. I’m going to have to ice it tonight, or risk waking with a stiff neck, but in this moment, I can’t find a single fuck to give.
Before we reach the plush bed that homes a dozen pillows, Olivia tosses my shirt, and reaches up to remove her own. She’s already trained today, she’s hosted a class, and rolled around on the mats, which means tiny particles of black mat, along with dust and dirt from the drilling she was doing on the balcony, flutter from her bra and sprinkle between us.
Neither of us pay it any mind; instead, I stop at the end of her bed and toss her down. No finesse, no gentleness, but rather an “oomph” when she lands, and a cry of pleasure, pain, surprise, when I yank her pants down, and several threads pop from how rough I am.
I flick her shoes off, and toss the black pants to the floor, then I kneel on the bed between her legs and push the front of my shorts down. There will be no foreplay today, no warming or teasing. Instead, I press the head of my unsheathed cock against her fiery pussy, and meet her eyes for permission.
No condom, which means she needs to be on the pill.
When she nods without hesitation, and says “We’re good,” I slam to the hilt and roar out the pleasure that washes through my blood like floodwaters after a storm. My hamstrings sing, and my heart races, but I ride her the way I’ve dreamed for years. Hot, mean, savage, and fast, but it’s what we are. Beneath her glamour, and my hunger, we’re just two souls searching for the ability to give and receive pleasure. And not just any old pleasure, but the kind exclusive to us.
“So fucking tight, Olivia.” I groan and pump my hips so hard that my muscles burn. Beneath me, she arches her head back, so I’m met with a view of her snow-white skin, almost translucent above sky-blue veins and a thumping pulse.
She doesn’t look at me, she doesn’t speak; she only closes her eyes and accepts her pleasure with a heavy dose of denial.
“Look at me,” I grit out when I realize that maybe she’s not truly here with me. She might be with him, and if she is, I might break a fucking wall. “Olivia. Look at me.”
I grab her hips when she doesn’t look, I pull her up easily, and flipping our positions, I lay on my back and force her to ride me. “Open your fucking eyes, Olivia.”
I wrap one hand around her hip, use the other to push a red sports bra up so her tit drops free, and rearing up to sit tall, I arch my back and take her nipple between my teeth, sending her wild on my lap.
Her pussy is like a vise, locking around me and pulling me to the edge on every thrust. Her hips move in a smooth glide, like she’s been training her whole life for this one ride, and when I release her tit and look up to her face, my heart skips when her eyes lock onto mine and her pupils pulse wide.