Page 25 of Oliver

He feels so good, I immediately writhe against his hard dick, shivering when he groans against my lips and pushes me back, so I’m leaning against the steering wheel.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I hate him. I do but I just want to feel and he’s here and he makes it oh, so good. I know I’ll regret it later, but whether I admit it or not, it’ll be worth it.

With a glittering stare, he traces his fingers over my jeans, rubbing my core in rough strokes. The touch alone is enough for me to toss my head back and buck into his hand, but the greedy look in his eyes tops it off as pleasure crashes through me in waves.

Everything is forgotten in direct relation to the heat building inside me. Maybe he needs this distraction, too.

Arching into his palm, I whimper as an orgasm surges, shuddering painfully while I gaze at him through lidded eyes.

He smirks, sending an answering pulse through my system, and I comply when he unbuttons my pants and helps me to crouch-stand and push them off.

Once I’m naked from the waist down, he pulls his own pants open, and his dick pops out, the length long and engorged.

Sensing his urgency, the same need I have to outrun the abyss, I waste no time with foreplay and mount him, moaning as I slowly slide down his length.

He grimaces, his mouth stretching into a pained groan before he grabs my hips and pumps into me. I’ve barely hit the base and with a cry I grab his shoulders, holding on for the ride.

Every time he thrusts into me, he rams against a spot deep inside that pushes me toward pleasure and rolling my eyes at the sweet sensation, I massage my fingers against my aching clit, moaning loudly into the heated silence.

Oliver says nothing, just continues to hammer into me, with a pained expression before he spews. Following behind him, I clench around his length and orgasm, my eyes rolling back in my head.

“Mm,” he groans, his jaw clenched tightly as he grabs my waist and bucks into me once more.

Trembling, I pulse above him and, in the aftermath, sag against the steering wheel. His heavy breaths puff against my skin and I make the mistake of relaxing.

Stupid, stupid me.

“Will you stay?” I ask, and my satiation pops like a balloon when he pushes me to stand.

Only the ticking of his jaw as he slides out points to emotion as he does but he’s so cold, I shiver in the warm air of our combined breath and move to the other seat, not only for the space but the distance.

He’s silent while I get myself situated, and I’m torn between being annoyed and humiliated.

Oliver may want to fuck me, but he doesn’t want to want to. Does it eat him up inside like it does me? Well, bully for him, I don’t care because I’m not a whore, and this is the last time the asshole will hit it and quit it.

More fool me. Fuck.

Ignoring his existence as he so easily does mine, I refuse to look at him as I exit the car and slam the door behind me.

When I’m at my door, he touches my arm and rasps, “Penny…”

Wrenching away, I fumble with the lock until he grabs my keys and does it for me. As soon as the door is open, I grab my keys and shut the door in his face but not before hissing, “Fuck you.”

His wide-eyed stare dances over my vision as I slide to the floor and grab my knees.

I guess Oliver has managed the impossible. He’s made me forget my shitty life and this fucked-up mess.

I can’t say I’m thankful though.

Chapter 8

It’s not in vain, if you’re crying for mercy.

Penny

Once again, I lick my wounds. Where before I thought the house was lonely, now it’s like a fucking tomb. Whenever I close my eyes, I see Dixie and Mom walking hand in hand along a beach I’ve never been to before.

Is it my subconscious trying to convince me they are okay? Who knows but a week passes in which I barely move and fight off nightmares that fade as soon as I wake.

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