Page 61 of The One I Need
He lifts my legs up, putting them both on his shoulders as he continues to drive into me. I reach up and claw at his chest, wishing I had something—anything—to hold on to as Oliver fucks me into the next time zone.
“Fuck me, Oliver,” I say as I feel my orgasm start to build already. “Make me yours.”
Because I’m drunk, I don’t think about those words. And honestly, I mean them. If this man fucks me like this, maybe we should be together. No way I’m going to get fucked this good ever again in my life.
Oliver suddenly lets go of my legs so they open as he falls on top of me. Nearly all of his weight is on me, but it doesn’t stop his momentum.
“You’re mine,” he growls into my ear. “Now come for me.”
I can’t even answer. Oliver has lifted my hips up slightly, finding that perfect spot that sends me over the edge.
Oliver lets out a grunt as he spills into me. He doesn’t move for a second, but I can see him breathing. Which is good. I really don’t want to have the conversation with Hazel where I explain I literally fucked Oliver to death.
“I think I’m going to pass out right here,” Oliver says, slightly moving off me.
I’m barely keeping my eyes open as I wrap my arms around him. “Sounds good.”
Oliver turns his head slightly, kissing my cheek sweetly. Such a contrast to the way he just literally fucked my brains out.
“Goodnight, wife.”
I lean down and kiss the top of his head. “Goodnight, husband.”
Chapter21
Oliver
I now pronounceyou husband and wife. You may kiss your bride…
I jolt awake right at the good part. Though for some reason I feel like I can taste her lips. Weird.
Damn, that was one hell of a dream. In all my years of proposing, not once have I ever dreamed of a wedding. But there it was: Izzy standing in front of me. She was wearing the outfit she had on last night, and we were getting married by Elvis. Clearly, my likely-still-drunk mind is playing some fucked-up tricks on me.
I try to open my eyes, but I immediately shut them the second the morning light hits me. However, that little dose of sunshine has seemed to wake up every part of me. It’s then I realize I’m completely naked under these covers. And there’s an arm draped over me. And a naked woman is spooning me. I want to freak out—for good and bad reasons—but that requires movement. And I don’t think I can do that right now.
I try to push through the haze of last night, and the headache of this morning, to piece together what the hell happened. There were shots. So many shots. There was gambling and the fountains. I do seem to remember the car ride back to the hotel when Izzy started kissing me, but the rest is pretty foggy.
Where were we coming from?
“Uggghhh.”
I want to laugh at Izzy’s groan, but just the thought of laughing makes my head hurt even worse.
“Too loud,” I whisper. “Suffer silently.”
“Am I naked?”
“Yup.”
“Are you naked?”
“Yup.”
“We had sex, didn’t we?”
“Yup.”
“Fuck…”
