Page 95 of The One I Need
I don’t argue. I don’t think I have it in me, even if I wanted to. I do as he says, letting him take both of my arms above my head, his fingers slowly tracing back down as he lowers himself between my legs.
I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t think about Oliver’s mouth and the wicked, wicked things it could do. Every once in a while, I let my mind drift back to that first night. It was animalistic. Carnal. Two people who might combust if they didn’t have each other right then.
This is different. With the first stroke of his tongue, I can feel it already. Don’t get me wrong, it still feels incredible. Instead of diving in like I’m his last meal, he’s savoring. Taking his time, making sure he hits every nerve ending he possibly can.
Which he is. Holy shit, he is…
“Yes,” I moan, my body writhing on the bed with every movement of his magnificent mouth. But as much as I love this, and holy fuck do I love this, I need him. I need him inside me. I need him more than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire life.
“Oliver,” I whisper as my hands run through his golden hair. “Make love to me.”
My words stop him immediately. I don’t blame him. If I didn’t just say it, I would wonder if I actually said those four words. But I did. And I mean it. I truly do.
Oliver leaves one last kiss on my public bone before kissing his way up my body, not stopping until he reaches my lips. We wrap each other in our arms, holding on tightly as we pour every emotion we have into each other. We stop as I’m on top, and just as I’m about to position him at my center, he stops me.
“Izzy, I’m not wearing a condom.”
I shake my head. “I have an IUD. And I don’t want anything between us. Not anymore.”
He takes my face in his hands, bringing me down to his lips for another kiss. You’d think I’d be tired of kissing this man, but I’m not. And that doesn’t even freak me out.
“Thank you for trusting me.”
I don’t know how those words are a turn on, but fuck if they aren’t.
“I’ve never trusted anyone more,” I say.
With that, I slowly sink down, feeling him fill me inch by inch. I slowly start to move, but not fast. Not yet. I don’t think I’ve ever let myself feel this. To feel the connection. This bond. This emotion. In fact, I know I never have.
When I was young and dumb and thought a narcissistic man was my world, sex wasn’t for pleasure. It was because that's what I thought I was supposed to do. After Matt it was transactional. A way to scratch an itch. Yes, I might have had some good times, but there was nothing of substance.
But with Oliver, it’s so much more. This is so much more. It’s pleasure. It’s bliss. It's emotional. It’s real. It’s everything.
Fuck is it everything…
“Take what you want, Izzy,” Oliver says as I start to rock on him, my hands gripping his chest. “Take whatever you need.”
And I do. I let myself feel every movement, every pulse, every touch. I throw my head back and grip Oliver’s legs, holding on for dear life as I let myself, for the first time in my life, be truly in the moment.
“That’s it, Izzy. Take it all.”
Holy shit…I don’t know why those words just lit a fire under me, but they did. I let go of his legs, returning them to his chest. He takes hold of each of my wrists, helping me steady myself as I let go of every memory, every scar, every wound.
“Oliver…”
I don’t know how in one word this man knew exactly what I needed, but he did. He wraps me in his arms and rolls me over, taking real control for the first time. And I let him, I want him to. I want him to kiss away the pain. I want him to fuck away the fear. I want him to make me the woman I want to be.
I said earlier that I wanted him to make love to me. I always thought that meant polite, nice, sweet sex with minimal orgasms. But it’s not. It’s likely different for every person. For Oliver and me, it’s give and take. It’s pleasure and sometimes some pain. But the good kind. The ones that make us want more and have us ripping each other’s clothes off every chance we get. It’s knowing your partner so thoroughly that you can just say his name and he knows what you need.
Holy shit…I think I’m in love with my husband.
“Oliver, I’m so close,” I say, suddenly realizing I’m about to orgasm like I never have before. If this is what love makes you do, then I’ve been missing out.
“I got you, beautiful. I always got you.”
And he does. Oliver gets his fingers involved, rubbing my clit as he thrusts into me, which apparently is the detonator switch.
I come apart in a way I never have before. I shout Oliver’s name so loud the whole town can hear me. My whole body is alive in a way that I don’t think it’s ever been in my lifetime.
