“I would,” I admit, probably too quickly. “Would you?”
“Absolutely,” she responds, speaking just as quickly. A smile spreads across her face as she says the word, and a soft laugh escapes her lips.
“Really?” Forget sterling; my karma must be solid gold.
“You don’t believe me?” A challenge—and I love it.
“Oh, I believe you. I just can’t believe my luck.”
“Luck?” Olivia asks as she places her hands back on my chest. “Please. You’re my sex god, Davis Ridgeway. You’ve earned everything that I give you.”
The woman clearly has no idea how easy it is for her to spin me up because she doesn’t even bask in the stupid, lovestruck expression that immediately appears on my face. Oblivious, Olivia settles herself back on top of my pelvis and begins to kiss me again, her nipples tickling my bare chest. As she moves, her hand comes up to lace itself in mine—with my phone pressed between our palms. “Do it.”
I glance over at the phone between our hands and then I focus back on her face. “Film you. Film us.”
“Yes.” Her expression is resolute before she kisses me once again.
“You’re sure?”
More hungry, needy kisses. “I’m sure.”
“Because you don’t have to—”
“I want you to film yourself taking me,” she states plainly, ceasing her kisses so that she can hold my gaze with hers. Her mien is steadfast and without an iota of uncertainty. “I’d do it for free, and I’m doing it because the idea is so hot that I’m pretty close to stealing your phone and doing it for you. Consent enough?”
“You make me crazy,” I mutter, offering the understatement of the century. “You have no clue what you do to me.”
“Show me,” Olivia practically implores. “Show your slut how well you can fuck her, and record it so that she can watch it over and over again.”
Obsession is an understated word for everything that I feel as Olivia whispers those last four words, over and over again, right into my ear. Her lips are so close that I can feel them tickle my earlobe. The words resonate and repeat, simple and powerful. This woman is all I’ve ever wanted, not just in a woman, but in my life—and I’ve wanted for extraordinarily little.
I would do anything for her. As soon as I come to that revelation, it becomes easy for me to turn on the camera and press record. And with that simple act—the simple act of pushing a button on a screen—we’ve crossed the Rubicon. Sure, I have naked photos of her on my phone already, even a video of Olivia touching herself in my office. But filming ourselves? It’s another level of dream material manifested.
Her eyes travel to the phone that I’m now holding between us. She can’t see the screen, which means she has no clue how astounding she looks on camera. Her auburn hair is messy from my hands and rests against her bare breasts, practically framing them. She runs her hands through it, pushing it away from her face before she trails her hand between her cleavage, along her stomach, and down to her mound where she has, to my complete and utter satisfaction, managed to leave a wet spot on my pants.
I want to tell her that she looks beautiful. That she’s a vision and otherworldly and a million other adjectives that still aren’t enough to describe how ethereal she looks on my phone. But my heart is racing and I can barely keep my hand steady, and I’m just waiting for all of this to fall apart. I’m waiting for everything to fall apart because this is too good—too picture perfect—to be real.
Luckily, Olivia is a born performer. She wastes no time rising to her shins so she can feed her nipple into my mouth, first rubbing the hard tip around the edge of my lips before she presses it against my tongue. I suck in hard, making her cry out with her head tilted back.
In the heat of the moment, I realize that I’ve screwed up the filming. I end up flipping the camera so that I can see both of us on the screen and I hold out my arm. This way, I’m now in the picture with Olivia—sucking her nipples as I film us.
The sight of me doing this is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined, but I can’t deny that I’m enjoying this. Did I ever think that I would film myself feasting on a woman’s breasts, sucking them hard and shamelessly as she moaned and ground her pussy against me? Obviously not. But if there’s anything I’ve learned since Olivia sauntered back into my life, it’s that all of my plans mean jack shit.
“I love your mouth,” she murmurs as she runs her hands through my hair. “Every part of your big body makes me crazy, Davis.” She lowers her hand down to my length and removes it from my pants. “We’re going to have to do this quickly.”
“Needy,” I say to her, not to humiliate her anymore though. This time I say it because I want her to counter with that smart mouth of hers. I want her to give it as good as she gets it. I want her to know that when we fuck, I expect her to feel like she owns me—because it’s true. I may pay her, but Olivia Nolan owns me. “As if this is any different from the other times you’ve been desperate to get my cock in one of your holes as fast as possible.”
Delicately, she runs her hand along my length. “You’re right. I’ve been cock hungry since the first time you fucked me.”
“You’re sick. You’re shameless,” I grit out as she begins to jack me, all the delicateness gone from her grip.
“Only for you,” she replies breathlessly before she grabs the phone from my hand.
I watch with interest as she hops off the bed and practically flits over to the nightstand. There, she balances the phone against the lamp. When she positions the camera, I can see that she’s orienting it towards the bed.
Devilish, brilliant woman.
“Come here,” I order, beckoning for her now that both of our hands are free. “Come ride me.”
“Demanding,” Olivia answers, pretending to be coy. “Now who’s the desperate one?”
“I’m a paying customer,” I remind her as I lay back, assuming the posture of a man who confidently believes that this woman could never resist his body. “Up. Get on this cock.”
To no one’s surprise, Olivia does as she’s told and situates herself over my length. Like a good girl, she takes me in her hand and feeds my cock into her entrance.
Last time, we took it slowly. Last time, she eased onto me bit by bit, working to accept my size like she wasn’t sure if she could. This time, I slide in so easily that I can’t hold back a string of expletives as she sheathes me in her hot, wet core. That seems to delight her and she immediately starts to move on top of me.
“Hungry. Little. Slut,” I manage to grit out as Olivia begins to send shocks of pleasure through me.
“I blame you for making me horny,” she answers before she braces both palms on my chest, giving herself the leverage to ride me even harder.
“Horny? This is obsessive. Look at how you can’t get enough of me.”