Page 71 of The Catalyst

His hand smoothes up my back before cupping the back of my neck in his fingers. “Then, haunt me, baby.” He yanks me to him and steals a passionate kiss from me, growling into my mouth with every swipe of his lips. I dig my fingers through his hair as he drags my body against his, feeling his still hard cock digging through his clothes to reach me.

He trails his lips down my throat, biting into my flesh. I know he’ll leave marks and I don’t fucking care. I don’t care who sees the marks he leaves on my body or what anyone would think about it. I’ve never felt the way I do with Ollie and, even if it ends with Nigel killing me for cheating on him, I’ll be fine with that. At least, I’d get some time with Ollie before I leave this plane of existence. It’s not love–I’d be insane to call it that–but it’s more than I’ve ever had.

Every minute with Oliver Doyle is a blessing, one I was never supposed to be granted.

“I want to hear you say it,” he growls against my ear as he slips his hand between my thighs, circling my clit with the rough pad of his finger.

I moan loudly. “I’m yours.”

The bench starts to tilt slightly and I cling tighter to him from the fear. That fear, the one that has held onto me tightly since we got onto this ride, sends me tumbling over the edge. I ride out the high on his finger, feeling my essence leak down to his pants from how hard I came.

“Fuuuck. You come so good for me. I’m not even inside you and you soaked me, princess.” He drags his teeth along the skin behind my ear.

I whimper as I dig my nails into his scalp. “Fuck me now, Ollie,” I beg, feeling so wound up even though he just got me off. It’s never enough. I always want more of him.

“So needy,” he chides as he dips his fingers down, running them along my opening. He gathers my wetness and spreads it over my clit before pinching the abused bud. “Sadly, we will fall to our deaths if we try that here. These seats aren’t built to withstand sex.”

He tugs down the front of my shirt until my breast pops out and he claims that, too.

The last thing I want is for us to fall to our deaths so I guess I can wait a little bit. I rake my fingers through his hair. “Then, take me somewhere that can.”

CHAPTER 29

BETH

Iremain latched to Ollie’s body, my legs around his waist, as he walks us through the garage door and into my house, the same place we have been hooking up regularly.

It’s become our place, one full of memories of the two of us that cover up all the bad ones with my mother.

Ollie slams into the kitchen table, dropping me onto the surface, and my hands rush for his belt, working the leather out of my way. He rips my shirt down the middle and pushes it off my shoulders before biting and licking the exposed skin.

My jaw slacks and I moan. I should be ticked off that he just destroyed one of my favorite shirts, but the way he did it was sexy as fuck. How could I be mad at that?

Then, the annoying shrill of my phone interrupts us.

God-fucking-dammit.

Nope, not happening.

I rip it from my pocket and drop it to the floor. I don’t know what happened, but the ringing stops and that’s a blessing. Nothing could pull me away from this.

“No one important?” he rasps in my ear and I smile to myself.

“No more important than this,” I respond, my voice just as low as his.

“Good. I need your pussy right now,” he growls before shoving down his pants and boxers. He yanks me until my body is flat against the table, my knees pulled over his hips, as he thrusts hard into me. No preparation, no hesitation, and completely full of need.

Arching my back, I scream from the mixture of pain and pleasure, so impossibly full of him. Then, his hand wraps around my throat, pinning me in place.

“Be careful, princess. You might scare the neighbors,” he taunts as he thrusts into me again, the same cocktail pumping through my veins.

Pain and pleasure mingle together as he fucks me.

“Like you care what my neighbors will think. Oh, fuck!” I moan as he slams into me so hard I feel him at the top of my scalp and all the way up my spine. God, it hurts so good.

I live for the pain he gives me, stretching me in a way only he can.

“Tell me,” he growls before smacking the side of my thigh, leaving a pink silhouette of his fingers. “Who’s pussy is this?”

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