Page 51 of Heart Match

He pulls me up so we are face to face, my legs on each side of him. He strokes my mouth with his thumb and lifts his eyes to meet mine. In one move he places me underneath him, one knee on each side of me, reversing our positions. He pulls my jeans down. He studies my panties and realises there is a very strategic hole there too. He smirks and shakes his head.

‘You’re evil, Olivia.’ He raises an eyebrow and bites his lower lip as his hooded eyes lock with mine.

Then he slides his middle finger inside of me through the hole in my panties, making me gasp. He does it a few more times, then fills me in with his hard, thick cock. He does it slowly, every inch of his skin sliding inside of me, filling me in. All the while he watches, having fun with the fact that he doesn’t need to take my panties off.

He rolls his hips and glides inside of me, in and out, in and out. I’m so close, and he knows it. In and out. He pinches my nipple hard and keeps doing it as he slides in and out. My sex’s tightening and pulsing faster around him. Just as I begin to tremble and moan, he retreats from me and releases himself on my belly. It is so insanely erotic it makes me lose any rational thought. It prolongs my own orgasm.

‘Fuck,’ Luc moans and quivers, holding his length in one hand, propping himself on the other so he doesn’t fall on top of me.

I watch him collapse beside me, trying to even his breathing. Once we recover from the intensity of the moment, he faces me and says, ‘I’ve made a mess.’

‘Yeah, you did,’ I say grinning, not even close to being mad about it.

He smirks and says, ‘Sorry, let me help you.’

We clean ourselves up and snuggle on the bed, wearing only our underwear.

‘What is it with you and lingerie, woman? You’re gonna make me crazy,’ he says, playing with the lace of my bra.

‘What is it with you and lingerie?’ I ask back.

‘I blame it on the designer and model,’ he speaks against my mouth.

He traces a path with his finger between my breasts and down my belly. I immediately start to laugh and he begins to tickle-attack me. He’s on top, holding me between his legs as he tickles me everywhere, I’m almost crying with laughter.

‘Stop. What is it with you and tickles?’ I say with effort, laughing so much I can feel tears rolling down the corner of my eye to my ear.

Then he stops. He’s watching me with a serious, almost painful expression. I stop smiling immediately.

‘What’s wrong?’ I ask. Luc can be so expressive and intense sometimes.

‘Nothing. I just …’ he sighs and continues, ‘I wish I’d never make you cry. Unless it’s of joy,’ he says it in such a deep way I feel my heart squeezing inside my chest.

I raise a hand to his jawline, running my thumb over his scruff.

‘Good news is, I haven’t cried in almost two years, so the chances are very slim,’ I say, giving him a reassuring smile, but his smile isn’t so convincing.

I pull him toward me and he rests his head on my chest, his ear against my heart. I realise he enjoys doing this, listening to my heart. I bury my nose in his head and wish we could stay like this for days, in this bubble, on this bed, alone, the smell of sex lingering in the air.

Chapter Fifteen

We wake up to the sound of our alarms. It seems as though my routine isn’t as messed up as I thought it was. At least I can’t blame him for making me sleep longer, considering we have a similar wake up routine.

‘Up for a run?’ he asks, his sleepy face is something I could see every day and never tire of. The messier his hair, the better.

‘Catch me if you can,’ I say, daring him because I know he still needs to go to his place and get ready.

‘Deal!’

He takes the dare seriously and gets up as fast as he can and searches for his clothes. Meanwhile, I’m already brushing my teeth and watching him from the bathroom mirror, laughing at him. His T-shirt is missing. From where I’m standing I see it under the bed, but I don’t say anything. I just bought myself at least five minutes.

Eventually he gives up and leaves. Not before planting a kiss on my cheek. The way he looks right now makes me rethink this dare, wanting to make him stay a little longer. And it almost makes me feel bad that he’s going to lose the dare because of me.

I’m already finishing stretching by the time he arrives downstairs. He’s wearing his black cap, strands of his hair are escaping on the sides, I can still spot lines on his sleepy face. I can’t stop thinking about last night. I’ve never felt this way before. Just thinking about it makes my chest warm up and my stomach flutter.

‘I win,’ I say, teasing him.

‘What do you want as your prize?’

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