Charming Like Us (Like Us 7)

This is happening.

I picture the moment, his fingers in me, and I shift my legs, my dick aching. I tug myself, and Oscar’s whole body tightens in arousal. We’re both straining and in need of a powerful release.

My eyes trace his beautiful build. Curves and cuts and sinewy angles.

Curly hair brushes his eyelashes. His nose ring makes him even sexier. Faint scars dot his chest and knuckles, and his nose was probably reset a few times after punches.

Beautiful.

I don’t want him to be with anyone else.

No one.

Just me.

I slide my hand back against his neck and bring his mouth on mine. We kiss for another minute before he whispers, “Turn on your chest.”

I roll onto my forearms, exposing my back and ass to Oscar. Questions prick my gaze, wondering if this is right. My pulse is skipping, and I ease when he shifts my legs for me. Spreading them apart. He grips my waist.

“Do your California best and chill some more,” Oscar says.

It makes me smile. “Am I not relaxed?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

That wells up inside me. Even though he’s said it before, it feels more like a commitment and promise.

He kisses my bicep, my neck and lips one more time before pressing his body up against me. Pleasure steals my breath, and anticipation descends in rapid headiness.

I imagine him thrusting against me, and I feel weak at the knees and I’m basically lying down on all-fours. I look over my shoulder. Meeting his serious eyes that reassure and calm anxieties.

His cold finger circles my entry, and his other arm wraps around my waist. He strokes me with one hand and enters me with his other fingers, slight pressure nuzzling me—I stiffen.

He lets go of my shaft and trails his free hand up my abs, creating firm waves that leave fiery wakes. So many sensations melt my brain, and I chill inside the moment.

A second later, he slides his finger in me. My eyes snap shut, overwhelmed for a beat. I bear down on my teeth, breathing aching breath through my nose. He makes a come-hither motion and finds a spot that jerks my limbs in intense bliss.

Fuck.

He thrusts his hips with the movement of his finger. A primal noise rumbles out of him and out of me, our groans the best music in the air. His hard body rocks on top of mine, against mine, with mine—pressure.

Pressure.

I reach back and try to grab onto Oscar, but his hips and thighs and body are firm muscle that my hand slides off. I almost give up, but then I feel his palm slip into mine. Fingers interlacing and squeezing tight.

Jesus fuck.

I bury my head into the pillow as he starts moving his finger deeper and faster. Another groan strangles me. “Os,” I choke out his name like a wounded animal. Like I’m pleading for that pressure to turn into a release.

And the way he’s riding me…

It’s too good.

I try to shrug off his hand from mine—so that I can touch myself.

“Nonono, shhh.” He holds tighter to my palm and kisses the back of my shoulder. “Hold out a little more. Trust me.”

Trust him. There is no question. No uncertainty. He has all my trust. I’ve gift wrapped it and delivered it to his door.

Emotions spill over pleasured shockwaves. My breathing comes out hoarse and ragged, and Oscar keeps whispering in my ear. His gruff voice turns me on just as much as how he works me over. When he hits my prostate, lights dance in my vision. It happens again. And again. “Os,” I cry out. Everything else that leaves my lips are noises and grunts and heavy breaths.

But my head is one giant chant. Os. Os. Os. Os.

A climax annihilates me, and it takes me a second to realize I released in his palm. With all the confidence in the world, Oscar grabs a towel and wipes off my cum. He kisses the edge of my lips, and I fall onto my shoulder blades, both hands on my head.

He grins. “Not gonna lie, you enjoyed that way more than I expected.”

I laugh in a pant. “Am I your biggest surprise?”

“Oh yeah, every fucking day, Highland.”

I eye his erection. “I can—”

“Just catch your breath.” Oscar stands near the foot of the bed, and he strokes himself a couple times. I heat up, and I watch this gorgeous guy come with another firm tug. His muscles flex, and he grits down on his teeth, eyes almost rolling.

I only wish his orgasm was closer to me and from my body or hands. “Now I feel like I’ve missed out on something.”

He uses the same towel to clean up, his grin rising again. “Maybe next time, Highland.”

Next time. I want the hot-and-cold just to be boiling hot between us. I want to reassure Oscar so the window flies fully open and I can climb all the way through. But I’m not sure how to do that without a major declaration.