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He covered my body with his own and slammed into me. I dug my nails in his back as we fucked, mewling and whimpering under him. He nibbled at my breasts without pushing up my shirt, dampening the fabric with his saliva. Oliver kept relentlessly pounding at me, grinding his base against my clit until I released again with a loud howl. He didn’t find his own until he gave me one more orgasm then collapsed on top of me.
“You know we use sex to deal with frustration between us,” I panted.
“I know, but isn’t makeup sex so much fun?” he asked.
“Sex with you is always fun and now I’m starving.”
“Pizza with the works?” he said as he kissed the tip of my nose.
“And fried calamari.”
“You’re working out extra hard next week.”
“I promise.”
He pulled out of me and helped me up so we could take a quick shower together. Any anger I had melted away with the endorphins coursing through my system. This wouldn’t always work, and it was probably not healthy to handle disagreements between us in this way, but it was how we dealt with them for the time being.
"Shit," I muttered as a piece of sausage slipped off my slice and landed on the table. We had ordered a pizza with the works, and it was hitting the spot perfectly. The calamari was slightly crunchy but not rubbery, and the tomato dipping sauce had just the right balance of acidity and sweetness.
Oliver chuckled, shaking his head. "You're eating like you haven't had food for two days."
"I'm hungry. Don't piss in my cornflakes," I shot back, grinning.
Oliver almost spat out his sip of wine, coughing a few times. "What did you just say?"
"Don't piss in my cornflakes. You’ve never heard it before?" I asked.
"No. I must be out of the loop."
"Well, you are old," I teased, my eyes twinkling.
He leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm sure there are plenty of young men who can't do what I do in bed. There's something to be said for experience."
I laughed, feeling the tension from earlier melting away. “Oh, is that what you call it?” I smirked before I took another bite of pizza.
“Would you prefer someone younger with less experience?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe I could find someone my age with the same experience as you.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Would you want to?”
I shook my head. “No. I found my prince.”
“So, I’m a prince and not an old king.”
“A little of both but it doesn’t matter to me because you’re special.”
Oliver leaned over and kissed me on the lips, leaving me with the taste of the red wine he was drinking. I took another large bite of my pizza before setting it down, feeling satisfyingly full.
"Finally done?" he teased, eyeing my half-eaten slice.
"I think two slices is plenty. You ate quite a bit yourself," I replied, gesturing to the large pizza that now had only three slices left.
"I was hungry too. Our little tiff spurned on my appetite."
"Just our tiff and not the sex we had?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"That too," he admitted with a grin. "I'm getting up early tomorrow to work out. Do you want to join me?"
