The Sweetest Oblivion (Made 1)

HE HELD MY HAND AS he shut the back door behind us.

My breaths turned shallow as he pulled me to the couch. He sat, and I stood between his legs, waiting to see what he wanted. I would do it all, anything he told me to. Maybe it was my submissive heart, or maybe it was the romantic one trying to find a way to thrive.

His palms skimmed my legs, pushing my dress up until he found bare thigh. My skin danced with anticipation. His hands fit me so right, were the perfect roughness and the warmest heat. I suddenly didn’t know what I would do if I could never feel them again.

He tugged the backs of my knees, pulling me closer until I straddled him.

Chest to chest. Heartbeat to heartbeat. My pink dress to his black dress shirt and tie. We were so different, I realized then. Big and small. Hard and soft. Demanding and docile.

We breathed each other’s air for a moment before he leaned in and ran his lips down the length of my throat. “You smell so good,” he rasped. His scruff tickled my neck as he trailed downward past my collarbone and then pressed his face into my breasts. “And fuck, these tits.”

I sighed, my hands running down his chest. “My nonna said you only want to marry me for my boobs.”

“Not true.” I felt him smile against my skin. “This too.” I yelped at the sharp smack on my ass. He tugged my dress off my shoulders, baring my white strapless bra. My breasts tingled as he palmed and squeezed them through the fabric.

“My boobs and ass, then?” My words ended on a moan as he folded a cup down and ran his tongue across a nipple before sucking. My head lolled, a breathless haze overcoming me.

He cupped me between the legs. “This is also the nicest puss—”

“Nico,” I cut him off, every inch of my skin warming.

He chuckled.

I loved the sound of his laugh, the way the warm timbre ghosted down my spine.

I shivered.

He ran a thumb across the goose bumps on my arm. “Cold?”

I shook my head, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. “Nervous.”

He unclipped the back of my bra, his eyes darkening as I straddled him topless with my dress around my waist. “Why?”

My hands slid downward, his abs tightening under my touch, to even lower. I traced his belt buckle with a finger. “I want to do something,” I whispered. The insinuation that I wanted to please him, to taste him, was heavy and thick in the air.

His gaze immediately flicked to my face. Nerves danced in my veins as I began to undo his belt. He tensed. I leaned forward, pressing my breasts against his dress shirt and my lips to his neck. God, he smelled so good it made me dizzy. I nuzzled him, trying to soak it all up.

His hand cupped the back of my head, sliding downward to my nape. “Why would that make you nervous?”

I swallowed. “Because I haven’t done it before.”

I tried to slide backward to my knees in front of the couch, but he suddenly grabbed me by a fistful of hair. His gaze swam with turmoil and disbelief.

“You’re lying.” His voice was sharp.

I laughed weakly, though in truth his words pierced my chest. “I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough that I’m not.” I was so nervous it vibrated beneath my skin. My hands were clammy, and I fought not to wipe them on my dress. Like an idiot, I wondered how many blowjobs this man had gotten and from how many experienced women.

I tried to pull away again, but his grip only tightened. He watched me with a tension that radiated from his gaze. I swallowed as awareness settled between us. Keeping his stare, I slipped the ring off and let it fall from my fingers. His fist loosened, and I slid to the floor.

He stretched out, like he was getting comfortable, like a woman on her knees at his feet was a daily routine. God, this man. He never made anything easy.

I unbuttoned his pants, and the sound of the zipper sent a seductive echo through the room. He rested his elbow on the armrest and watched me.

I hesitated. I knew I couldn’t do this with perfection, and I wished I’d had more practice so I could. He certainly knew what he was doing in the oral department, and I was scared I’d be a disappointment.

“You gonna stare at my crotch all day or take it out?”

He looked like a king sitting there, demanding and impatient. Though, I believed he was close to unraveling by a tightness in his shoulders and the tension passing through his eyes.