Page 124 of The Catalyst

Suddenly, he spins me around, wrapping his fingers around my throat, and tugs me against his hard body. My head falls back as I look up and come in contact with his stormy eyes, crackling with emotion. My breath catches as I stare up at him, not knowing what he’s going to do, and not caring if anyone sees.

I’ve never really noticed before, but there’s something different about his hair–something the others don’t have. He has a small strip of naturally blond hair that sits at his temple. It’s not bleached blonde, though. It’s…authentic.

How did I not notice it before? We’ve been as close as two people can be and this is the first time I’ve taken it in.

“What’s this?” I ask as I reach up and touch the hair.

His features tense before they relax. “Birth defect,” he mutters. “My mom is a blonde.”

“A birth defect, you say?” I remove my hands from his face, reach behind my ear, grab the hair there, and lift it for him to see.

I’ve been dying my hair a dark copper for years, but there is one thing that the color never adheres to.

His eyes widen as he reaches out and runs his fingers along the silver strands in my hand, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

“You were born with this?” he asks, his voice low.

“No,” I respond. “I had a string of severe panic attacks two years ago…after my dad died.” I frown as I stare at the hair. “It went silver starting at my roots and grew out like this. I’ve dyed my hair, but it never sticks. It will stay on for a day…maybe two, then it washes out.”

When I look up, his eyes are blazing into me, and he drops the hair before he releases my throat, running his thumbs along my jaw.

“Don’t,” he rasps. “Don’t dye it.” Then, his lips are on mine. The taste of cinnamon and the scent of cologne swarms me until the only thing I can hang onto is him.

His tongue collides with mine, and my fingers tangle in his hair as he hauls me up his body, skin impacting with bare flesh pulled tight over steel muscles.

I have no true orientation with where he moves other than his cock grinding against me until I’m shaking in his arms, and he kisses down my throat. His possessive hands run down my back and over my ass as he moves us to the ground, and suddenly, he’s on top of me.

“Please,” I whimper with desire, and he trails aggressive, needy kisses down my body until his tongue finds the dip in my hips. My entire body bucks from his foreplay. “Stop teasing me.”

My stomach rumbles from his laughter, and his eyes bounce up to me, a challenge there. “That’s not teasing you, baby.Thisis.” Then, he dives down where I can’t see him from the fog, and his tongue presses inside me.

Throwing my head back, I arch into his mouth and cry out from how sensitive I am, how his taste buds slide along my channel. “Yes!” Butterflies race down south, and my head spins as my orgasm quickly approaches. “Don’t stop,” I demand, but just as my pussy starts to clamp down on his tongue, he pulls back. I scream in frustration, damning him to hell for that dick move, but then he runs his tongue over my clit. He pulls back as the tension builds again, holding me on the edge. “Oliver,” I warn, swearing I will kill him if he doesn’t stop fucking around and make me come already.

“What? You don’t like being edged?” he teases, and I growl.

He licks my clit again, and I’ve had enough of the bullshit. Gripping onto his hair, I wrap my legs around his head and drag him into me. That seems to make him snap because the way he licks and sucks on my clit has my head spinning.

Moaning with my taste in his mouth, his fingers dig into my ass, holding me against him. The pressure builds more and more until I can’t take it anymore, and I explode like a fire hydrant. The scream that leaves my lips isn’t human. Who knows? Maybe that orgasm sent me to another dimension.

My legs fall apart, but he doesn’t stop tasting me.

“Oliver, please,” I plead, and he moves over me, his full lips glistening with my arousal. “I want you inside me. Now.” His mouth slams onto mine, and I taste myself on his tongue as he slides inside me, stretching me in the painful way I have been dying for.

He releases the kiss, pressing his forehead to mine, as he takes me hard and unyielding, but his eyes never leave mine.

“Don’t fall in love with me,” I warn breathlessly as his hips slam into mine, pressing in as deep as he can. Dear God, his cock feels so good. The sentiment is a plea, and I expect him to laugh it off or deny that something has been happening here for a while now, but instead, when he opens his mouth, he doesn’t deny it.

“I’ll try my best, crazy girl.” The words could’ve been said sarcastically, which would’ve been expected of him, but they’re genuine.

“My boyfriend’s a psycho. He kills people.”

The look on Oliver’s face is priceless. I know he is fully aware of this, but I thought he would laugh it off. Instead, the man looks offended, his eyebrow arched at me.

“Don’t forget who is balls deep in your tight pussy. I beat your boyfriend on a crazy scale of ten to one.” Then, he’s kissing down my throat and biting on my neck as he fucks me into the dirt, harder, faster, more demanding.

That is one way he beats Nigel that I don’t argue with. Nigel is nothing like Oliver. Not by a long shot.

CHAPTER 48

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