Page 59 of Oliver

He’s so big, and his throbbing dick looks brutal in the low light.

“Oliver,” I whisper. I need him, but I don’t know what to say.

He’s so closed off, at times looking at me with actual hate in his eyes and I think it’s because he dislikes the vulnerability of wanting me.

I understand, I do but it makes these types of interactions hard to navigate.

“Hm,” he says, looking at me through hooded eyes, his brilliant green gaze heated through. “You want this, little one?”

“Yes,” I breathe, clutching my nipples and pulling brutally.

Groaning, he lays over me, and pushes my knees to my chest. I feel exposed, vulnerable before it all disappears under the pressure of his dick slowly stretching me wide.

With a moan, I arch into him and his eyes light with fire as he surges inside and bottoms out before slowly pulling out and thrusting back. Over and over, he pumps while I keen below him, the familiar pleasure circling my spine.

“Please,” I pant, as I feel the maelstrom of emotions well inside of me again pushing toward the peak of something I know will bring me such pleasure.

And I need, I need so fucking badly.

Sensing how close I am, he picks up my hips and jackhammers into me, causing my boobs to bounce under the movement, but I can hardly track it because my spine is sizzling, my blood boiling like fire in my veins.

“Oliver,” I cry out, thrusting against him again.

My eyes roll back at the painful pleasure as he growls and pumps into me brutally, his intense eyes locked on mine.

With a snarl he explodes, his dick pulsing inside me as promised, while I convulse around him. My heart stutters when his brows furrow and he collapses on top of me, groaning, “Penny."

Clutching his shoulders, I attempt to center myself while I come down and to my surprise, he turns us so we’re spooning and wraps his arms around me. At that, warmth fills my soul and sleepily, I smile, passing into slumber within the next blink.

Later, I wake with a start, and sit up abruptly, dislodging Oliver’s arms in the process. The weird ass dream hovers at my vision and I rub my eyes, biting back a sob.

With each new revelation in this sordid as fuck story, my dreams become more vivid and wild. This time, I’m drowning under a memory of Mr. G that pushes at my lungs until I can barely breathe.

“Hey,” Oliver says gruffly. “What is it?”

Rubbing my face with trembling hands, which I hide behind, I mutter, “Nothing.”

Resentment floods my veins that he even asks because here we are still dancing around the truth. I’ve told him my shit. When is he going to fess up to me?

Why do I keep dropping into bed with him knowing he’s likely using me now as he was then?

Nope. The fucker doesn’t deserve this piece of me, my vulnerability. Not when he dropped me like a bad habit and especially not after his interactions with Dixie.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me,” he demands.

My skin prickles at his high-handedness, and I lean over to find my clothes, needing the barrier as I say, “What the fuck do you care,Dr. Love.”

Oliver stills and I know if I look at him, I’ll see the distance I love to hate behind his eyes. My own fault, but really?

“Penny,” he says after a moment, pulling me back gently and pressing me into the couch cushions. “I did what I had to do.”

“So, you’re not fucking sorry,” I whisper, tears forming behind my eyes.

My heart fucking hurts. Dammit.

His eyes flash before he grabs my chin. “Sorry? No. She came to me. Remember?”

“Do you know how you sound right now?” I seethe.

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