And Then There Was Her (And then There Was 1)

I gasped from my arousal and because of his dirty words.

He started sucking at the base of my throat, and I let my head fall back against the wall, hearing it thump from the contact.

“When I saw you in the hallway at the bar, I wanted to ravish you right then and there,” he said on a shaky, deep breath. “But it wasn’t just about having my dick deep inside you, Adele.” He nipped at my throat. “It’s about having you in my life forever, about finally finding you again and wanting to mark you, claim you.”

“Oliver,” I said his name softly, whispered it, because honestly that was all I could do at the moment. My throat was tight, dry, my arousal so encompassing I felt lightheaded from it.

“Say it, baby. Tell me what you want, Adele.”

I loved the way he said my name, all husky and full of unrestrained desire. It had me becoming impossibly wetter.

“Tell me what you want.” He pressed his erection against my belly, and I moaned low in my throat. God, I wanted this so badly, wanted him so badly. I knew from experience his dick was massive, huge. I wanted him in me again.

I swore I felt his cock jerk, or maybe that was my imagination running wild, thinking the monster he had between his thighs was about to be buried inside me again.

I wanted him as naked as I was.

In the next few seconds, Oliver was moving a step back from me and tearing off his clothes.

I watched as his hard, defined chest came into view. He had a light sprinkling of dark hair that was on his upper chest, right across his pectoral muscles, and another small patch below his navel. That dark hair trailed down and disappeared beneath his jeans.

When he started going for the button of his jeans, all common sense left me. The room grew still, the air thick, hot. He unzipped his pants, his focus on me, and the sound of that zipper seeming so loud it was like it echoed off the walls. I could hear my pulse in my ears, a steady thump, thump, thump that was increasing in pace as the seconds ticked by.

Oliver was back in front of me, his massive cock digging into my belly, the feel of his pre-cum-slicked tip rubbing along my skin.

I remembered what he felt like deep inside me, but even so, seeing his cock, feeling it against me, still had a gasp of shock leaving my lips.

And when he pulled back ever so slightly, I didn’t stop myself from glancing down at his impressive length. His dick was long and thick, with a bulbous head slightly glossy with pre-cum. And he was like that because of me. It was all for me.

My pussy actually clenched at the thought of him pushing that large shaft into me, stretching my unused, aching muscles, making me scream out his name in not only pleasure but pain as well. And God, I wanted that pain, because I knew it would set me over the edge and bring me pleasure.

A thick lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed, trying to push it down. I wouldn’t let my nerves control me.

He pressed his body to mine once more, but he didn’t move to touch me, didn’t do anything but close his eyes and inhale deeply, as if he were taking in my scent.

“God, you smell so good.” He opened his eyes and stared into mine. “I’ve been dreaming about this scent, jerking off to it for the last three months, Adele.” He ran his fingers up and down the sides of my body, having goose bumps forming on my limbs.

I felt his body heat seep into me, felt the way his warm breath came out of him and bathed my temples, arousing me even more.

“God, I thought about you every single minute of every single day.” He kept stroking the sides of my body. He said the last part softly, his gaze on my mouth, his chest rising and falling harder now. I could see his pleasure rising to the surface, becoming tangible.

He slid his hand up my back and curled his fingers around my nape, pulling me closer, my chest pressing to his chest, my taut nipples hardening even more. Oliver didn’t have to lean in to kiss me, because I rose up on my toes and pressed my lips to his before he could react or move. I held onto his strong, broad shoulders, curled my nails gently into his firm and warm flesh. Our kiss started off softly, slowly, but then it became frantic, hard, and almost violent in its eroticism.

Oliver groaned and had his hands on my waist now, his nails digging into my flesh so hard I knew there would be bruises come morning.