Page 75 of Game Point
Oliver shifted me on his lap, giving me more space to grind deeper, every single movement of my hips eliciting breathless groans from him. I moved, bumping my elbow against the window.
Oliver hissed through his teeth, as if he sensed how much it had hurt. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I hit it right on the funny bone.’ I wheezed, clutching my elbow as numbness and a tingling radiated down my forearm.
His hand gently took my wrist, lifting my arm up. Tilting his head, he leaned forward, gently kissing my elbow as if to heal the injury. I watched, the moment so tender I catalogued it away with the rest.
‘Maybe we should move inside,’ he suggested. It took all my strength not to open the door and sprint inside.
Instead, I shifted back, noting as I wiped some of the window clear of condensation, ‘It’s still raining.’
‘I’m sure we can survive a little weather.’
I untangled my limbs before I opened the door and ran towards the house, my fingers already searching for my keys. Oliver followed, pressing his body against me as I attempted to get the key into the lock. With his hands trailing across me, his lips softly tracing kisses along my shoulder, it was a distracted task.
Biting my lip, I twisted the key. We pushed inside, Oliver kicking the door closed behind him, before spinning us around. My back against the door, Oliver in between my legs, his lips on mine.
His hands slid behind my thighs. In one motion, my legs wrapped around his waist. He pushed me against the door, pressing into me and dragging his length against my centre, teasing me with his hardness.
I swore under my breath, taking a moment to enjoy the friction against the thin material of my shorts. Oliver left kisses across my skin, tongue trailing, teeth grazing. With every movement, my fingers dug harder at his damp shirt, trying to remove it.
Oliver moved, one hand on my ass, another on my back. He gave me no warning as he turned and walked us up the staircase, taking me even more by surprise when we didn’t even make it to the bedroom, instead settling on the landing.
‘Hold on to the column.’ His eyes had turned dark, stuck on mine as his fingers found the top edge of my shorts. ‘And lift your hips for me.’
For the first time, I followed a command without argument. One hand wrapping around the support of the banister, my legs pushing up to allow the access he requested. Oliver inched the material down my thighs, his hands flattening over the skin there, taking in as much of it as possible. He pulled them off completely, throwing them over his shoulder with a satisfied grin.
Mentally, I thanked past-me for picking out a lacy pair of knickers, the scrap of delicate material barely enough to cover my ass. He pulled up, kissing me deeply, his handscoming back to my hips, in an attempt at holding me in place.
‘I want to feel you come against my tongue. Are you okay with that?’ he asked, his lips exploring down the neckline of my shirt.
I laughed breathlessly, ‘Fuck yes. Please.’ I pressed myself forward into him, growing desperate and inpatient. I’d been wound up tighter and tighter every day he was here. And no matter how often I tried, no middle of the night trip to the box in my wardrobe was ever enough to leave me satisfied.
Now, with him on his knees in front of me, I was helpless, prepared to beg for even the smallest touch.
‘Can I use my fingers?’ he asked, and while I appreciated the effort for consent, none of it was what I wanted.
‘Oliver.’ My hand found his jaw, dragging him closer to me. His gaze bored into me, the hunger clear to see.He wants me like I want him.I tilted my head towards him, somehow managing to keep my tone level. ‘You can do whatever you want. With whatever you want. But don’t make me wait any longer,please.’
His reply was a bright smile, my reward: him lowering between my thighs. I hissed at the careful contact of his fingers, as he teased me again. I moaned, feeling him pull my underwear to one side.
He moved closer, his shoulders pushing my thighs wider, a careful exhale against my throbbing centre. I gripped the support tighter, my eyes shut as I tried to lift my hips to him, clawing for the barest contact.
‘Oliver.’ A low dull pain throbbed, desperate for relief.
‘Beg for me, beautiful.’ I could feel every word spokenagainst my bare skin, every exhale of his hot breath. ‘I love hearing you beg.’
I’d given this man entirely too much power over me. If I’d believed I could finish the job myself and feel completely satisfied, I would’ve stayed strong. Instead, I was a whimpering mess, wiggling my hips for the touch he was refusing me.
‘Please. Please. Touch me. Just –’ I didn’t get to finish my sentence, with the shock of Oliver’s tongue dragging against my pussy, my hand pulling at his hair, urging him closer. He moaned against me, his mouth working, the pleasure unimaginable as my back arched from the landing, body fucking his mouth right back.
He felt like heaven, every movement driving me closer to the edge. He teased a finger at my entrance before, achingly slowly, pushing inside, wasting no time as he fucked me with his mouth and hand.
We couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.
Tighter and tighter I was wound, my hand sliding under my T-shirt, finger teasing at my nipple. Oliver worked another finger into me, my legs moving over his shoulders to allow more access. He knew what he was doing, knew exactly where to lick, where to suck, the right speed to give me pleasure, but not too much.
I came so hard, we both almost fell off the stairs, my body arching higher, a mix of cursing and his name leaving my mouth. I lay limbless, unable to move as my body rattled for a full breath, waves still tingling at my nerves.
