Page 105 of Texting, Trouble & Touchdowns
I raise a brow, staying between her legs, still crouched on my knees. “Yeah?”
She bites her bottom lip and sits up, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah.”
I rise to my feet, slow and curious, watching her every move. She doesn’t shy away. Doesn’t falter. Her legs dangle off the edge of the bed as she looks up at me, still flushed, still wrecked—and somehow in control now. It’s sexy as hell.
“Take these off.” She reaches out and brushes her fingers over the waistband of my sweats, tugging lightly.
I exhale through my nose, a crooked smile pulling at my lips. “Getting bossy, Doc.”
“I just want to see you,” she murmurs. “All of you.”
Fuck me.
I shove the sweats down without another word. Her breath catches—quiet and reverent—as she looks at me. At my cock, thick and flushed, already straining with the need I’ve been holding back maybe since I arrived.
She doesn’t touch me. Not yet. Just lets her eyes roam, dragging down my stomach, my thighs, then back up to meet mine.
“Lucian,” she says softly. “Lie down.”
That catches me off guard.
I blink. “What?”
“Just . . . lie down,” she says again, patting the bed behind her.
I don’t move.
She arches a brow. “Scared?”
God, I love her.
I shake my head with a low laugh and climb onto the bed, settling against the pillows. She swings one leg over me, straddling my hips, completely bare except for that flushed pink still coloring her cheeks and chest.
And damn, the sight of her—breasts upturned, nipples still peaked, her pussy hovering right over my cock, slick and glistening—it makes my throat go dry.
“You know what you’re doing?” I murmur.
She smiles. “Not really.”
“I’m not wearing a condom,” I warn her.
“It’s okay. I want this, but if you don’t, stop me.” Then she wraps her fingers around me.
Shit.
My hips jerk as her hand slides down my shaft, slow and purposeful. She’s watching me now, studying every twitch of muscle, every flicker of reaction like she’s mapping me out.
“Jesus, Olivia—” My voice breaks on the last syllable.
“You okay?” she teases, sliding her hand up again, twisting gently at the tip.
“Define okay.”
She laughs softly, then shifts her hips—low, just enough to let the slick heat of her cunt brush along the length of me. No penetration. No mouth. Just her bare, wet pussy dragging against my cock like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I nearly come on the spot.
“Fuck,” I groan, my head tipping back. “You trying to kill me?”
