Page 11 of A Shot at Love

The emotional rollercoaster that I’ve been through over the last few hours feels like it’s culminating in an insatiable need for Oliver. Or maybe after hearing him confess his love to me and telling him I feel the same way, it only makes sense that we express it physically. Either way, I’m dripping wet, my pussy aching for his length.

My mouth moves hungrily against his. Already, I’m learning how to kiss him, pulling out grunts and moans from him. It’s invigorating. I’m the only person who gets to have him like this now, and the way he kisses makes me feel like I’m the only person in this world that matters.

Actually, he already told me that I am.

“Daddy,” I whine, breaking away from the kiss. I don’t know what I want, or even care. I just need more. “Please.”

“I know, little girl,” he says, inserting his thumbs into the waistband of my joggers. “I’ll take care of you.”

Then, our lips connect again as he shoves my pants and panties down my legs. When they get to my ankles, I kick them off. Neither of us stop kissing each other, and it feels like we’re the oxygen each of us needs.

I whine when he removes his hands from my bare waist, but the feeling of disappointment is quickly replaced. The movement of his lips becomes a little sloppy as he shimmies, taking a small step away from me. Then, I feel his cock pressing against my stomach.

With a huff of amusement, Oliver picks me up, supporting me against the door with his large hands under my knees. He breaks the kiss, pulling back so we can lock eyes. My heart pounds in my chest and anticipation thrums through me.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells me, tilting his hips so the head of his cock brushes through my folds. “And you’remine.”

As soon as that word leaves his mouth, he pushes inside of me. I gasp at the feeling, and all at once, I realize that everything’s going to be alright. Oliver’s right. I’m his. And, as long as I’m with him, everything will be alright.

My father’s opinion on us doesn’t matter. I haven’t lost hope that he’ll come around, but even if he doesn’t, it’ll be okay. I have an amazing man by my side. Things will work out, no matter how scary they seemed before.

Oliver rocks inside me slowly. His breathing is heavy, and his mouth is resting at the column of my throat – the same place that he laid claim on me yesterday. Even though the mark caused problems this morning, I’m not upset. In fact, I like that he left a bruise in such a visible place.

I almost don’t recognize my own voice when I moan, “Do it.”

I don’t have to specify what I mean. Oliver knows what I want without any further prompting. He shifts his mouth to the other side of my neck. Then, he closes his lips over the pulse point and sucks hard. His teeth graze my skin, and I whimperat the sensation, feeling myself getting even wetter around his length.

As he bites down on my neck, his thrusts increase in speed. He works me closer and closer to orgasm. My body feels hot all over, yet goosebumps rise on my flesh. There are so many different sensations coursing through me right now, and Oliver is the one orchestrating all of these feelings.

“Daddy,” I whimper, tightening my hold on him. “That’s–”

My sentence is cut off by his mouth moving. He shifts his lips a little higher on my neck, the flat of his tongue dragging along my skin as he goes. I swallow down what I know would be an embarrassingly loud noise, cognizant of the fact that Oliver’s teammates could arrive at any time.

The threat of getting caught makes everything so much more intense, but I don’t want to intentionally bring any extra attention our way. I’m not sure my nerves could take that.

“You like it when I mark you up, little girl?” he asks, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. “You like everyone knowing that you belong to me?”

“Yes, daddy,” I say, leaning even further into him. “I love it.”

“And I love you,” he says, nibbling at my earlobe. “I love you so damn much, little girl.”

“I love you too,” I say as I dig my fingers into his back.

I feel like I might float away from this moment. He’s driving his cock into me relentlessly, pinning me to the door. There’s nothing I can do but take what he’s giving me.

Despite feeling helpless to do anything, I find that I like it. I’m normally so in control of every other aspect of my life thatbeing able to hand over the reins provides me with a comfort that goes beyond sexual gratification. Oliver isn’t just pleasuring my body; he’s pleasuring my soul.

My legs tighten around his waist, trying to pull him even closer to me. I gasp as he changes his angle slightly. His cock reaches even deeper into my body, brushing against my cervix. It almost hurts, but the stretch is far too pleasurable to be described as anything but.

“Fuck, baby,” he curses, moving away from my neck to rest our foreheads together. “You’re so wet for me. You like when daddy fucks you like this?”

“Yes, daddy,” I say, his deep voice going straight to my core and mixing with the other sensations he’s giving me. My brain is slowly going blank, emptying of anything but Oliver and his cock and the place that we’re connected. “Love it when you do.”

“Good, little girl,” he tells me, punctuating his words with a particularly hard thrust. “I’m going to fuck you every day for the rest of our lives. It’s how I’ll start my mornings. It’s how I’ll end my evenings. I’ll eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

I whine, my pussy spasming around his length. From what I can tell, sex with Oliver is only going to get better and better. This might be the second time that we’ve been intimate, but it’s already infinitely better than our mind blowing first time. If we keep going, I just might ascend to a higher plane.

He grunts, his grip on my thighs getting even tighter. Now, in addition to his unrelenting thrusts, he’s pulling me down against his cock. It’s intense, overwhelming in a way I wouldn’t be able to articulate even if I had my wits about me.

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