Page 91 of Dirty Player

“Eat,” he growled when he pulled back this time. His thick erection pressed against my sex.

Food had been forgotten and my lips parted at the one-word command.

When he saw my eyes flicker with confusion, he smirked.

“Eat and then we’ll get back to the house. You’ll need your energy later.”

A full-body tremble rolled down my spine, making him laugh when he set me back to the ground and handed me my sandwich.

I smirked when I saw him adjust himself and let loose a low groan.

Biting into my sandwich, I grinned back at him. “Can’t wait.”

I couldn’t. I couldn’t wait for whatever it was he had planned, because I knew that like everything else that was Oliver Powell, I was going to love the hell out of it.

***

“Relax,” he murmured, sliding his hand down my back.

My body was slick with sweat. My hands were together in front of me with another tie of Oliver’s. It was patterned with black and gray, tiny diamond shapes, and it was the only thing I could focus on while he tried to get me to further relax. I was fully restrained to his headboard once again, depleted from the orgasm he’d already given me with his mouth and his fingers before he’d flipped me over, pulled up my ass, and demanded I spread my knees.

“Please,” I whispered, shifting. I knew what was coming. He’d already dug through my bag and taken out the present he’d given me, the present that had mocked me and scared me and filled me with trepidation, but was now the only thing I wanted inside of me besides his cock. “Hurry.”

He leaned over me, his chest brushing against my back, his full lips and warm breath at my ear. “No. We go slow.”

I’d burst into flames if he went slow. One orgasm was suddenly never enough with him. As soon as I’d climax, he’d bring me to the brink, setting me on fire with his touches and kisses.

He’d played with my puckered hole while he ate me out, licking me and teasing me, igniting my entire body. His fingers had pressed and opened me slightly, and when he’d done that, I’d exploded into a ball of heat so great that I thought I might set the house on fire.

Now he was doing more, preparing me for him but killing me in the process.

“Fuck.” I gasped as his hand ran through my crease at my backside. He gathered my wetness from my slit and pushed it toward the back, making me tremble.

“You’re on birth control, right?” he asked and my breath stuttered. He’d been inside me once before, told me he was clean, and at the time I hadn’t given him that trust.

“Yes.” He slid two fingers inside of my pussy, and I groaned, closing my eyes. “Please, Oliver. I’m dying.”

“You won’t. I want to be bare inside of you tonight.” He pushed and pulled, twisted his fingers and drove me to the edge so quickly I thought I might shatter before he did anything else.

“Yes,” I breathed. “I want that.”

I did. I trusted him with every part of me. He’d shown me who he was and who he wanted to be. There was nothing about Oliver Powell that wasn’t making me fall in love with him.

His fingers paused, making me groan with frustration.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with need and emotion. He pressed his hand to my cheek and turned my head so our eyes met. “Thank you for that.”

I swallowed thickly, feeling a burn deep in my throat as I saw how overwhelmed he was with what I’d given him.

He’d wanted me to trust him. Needed to know I did.

“Please,” I whispered, begging now and not caring in the least. I pushed against his fingers still inside me. “Fill me. I can’t wait anymore.”

His expression turned wicked with desire as he grinned and kissed me with a ferocity, stealing my breath, before he pulled back.

The click of the bottle of lube echoed in the air like a fog horn and his fingers slid out of my pussy.

“Relax,” he murmured, coaching me again and soothing me with a hand on my back and my ass. “It won’t sting if I go slow, but it’ll feel better if you don’t fight against it.”

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