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"We had something together. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you, but then again, Oliver likes his secrets. You’ll find out." She walked away, cackling, leaving my stomach churning with unease.
Oliver was always honest with me, and I was sure what she said was just to get a rise out of me. But the seeds of doubt had been planted. I found the bathroom and slipped inside, telling myself Lara didn’t get to me. My eyes stung, and I forced back the tears. She was a jealous bitch, but her words gnawed at me.
I took a few moments to compose myself, dabbing at my eyes and freshening up my makeup before stepping back out. Oliver was waiting for me, leaning against the wall opposite the bathroom.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his concern evident.
"I’m fine. Why would you think different?" I forced a smile, hoping it looked genuine.
"You took a few minutes. I got worried." He put his hand on my bare back, stroking the skin with his thumb. The touch seared into my flesh, not because he was hot, but because I loved when he touched me.
As we walked by the stairs, I paused. "What’s the matter?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.
"Can you take me on a tour?" I asked, needing a distraction.
"I don’t see why not." He led me up the stairs, the plush cream-colored carpet soft under my feet. I felt an urge to take my shoes off and feel it more intimately. Oliver steered me down a wide hallway with several doors, our steps echoing on the dark hardwood.
He showed me each of the bedrooms behind solid light wood doors. They all had the same elegant tin ceilings as the first floor. When we came to the last room at the end of the hall, Oliver gave me a gentle push and closed the door behind us. He took my clutch out of my hand and placed it on the cherry wood dresser.
"What are you doing?" I asked, breathless.
Oliver didn't respond. Instead, he bent down and kissed my exposed décolletage, his lips warm and insistent. I ran my hands through his hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingers. His tongue traced my cleavage, sending shivers down my spine.
"Oliver...." I whispered, my voice a mix of desire and hesitation.
"Shh. I can't resist," he murmured against my skin.
"It's almost midnight."
"Do you care?" he asked, his eyes dark with need.
I didn't care. I just wanted him, and if we made love through the turn of the year, so be it. He reached back to unzip my dress, and it slipped off my shoulders, pooling at my feet. I stepped out of it, and Oliver picked it up, draping it over the back of a dark blue wingback chair. I clawed at his jacket, and he shrugged out of it, placing it over my dress.
I stood there in nothing but my nude panties, and he latched onto my nipple with his lips, suckling it into his mouth. I moaned softly, hoping no one was upstairs to hear me.
"Where shall I fuck you? The dresser would be nice."
"Why not the bed?" I suggested, my voice trembling with anticipation.
I stroked him through his pants, and he gritted his teeth, gently biting my other nipple and tugging. The sensation sent shockwaves to my soaking core. He lifted me onto the dresser, causing a floral vase and a small crystal box to rattle. Oliver knelt down and removed my heels, caressing my calves before bending my knees and balancing my heels on the dresser’s edge.
I almost expected him to tear my expensive panties, but instead, he wrenched the crotch aside and thrust his tongue into me. I had to hold on because he was making me weak, and as my orgasm came hurtling forward, I fell apart, shattering under his skillful mouth.
"You’re so wet and delicious. We should’ve stayed home," he growled.
"This is more fun and dangerous," I muttered.
"No one will bother us here."
"How do you know that?"
"I just do." Oliver stood up as I regained my composure, opening his pants to release his cock. He bent down to pick up my shoes, sliding them back on my feet before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a condom.
"I hate those. You know that," I protested.
"You can’t take a shower, and this bedroom doesn’t have a bathroom."
"Oh."
