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He grasped my lace panties and tugged, the fabric tearing easily in his hands. He discarded the pieces on the floor, roughly spread my legs and pushing my shirt up to expose my breasts. His hands were firm and demanding, igniting a fire within me.
“Sit up. I want this shirt off,” he commanded, his voice low and intense. He paused, a curious look crossing his face. “Is this my shirt?”
I felt my face heat up. “Yes. I took it. I needed something of yours even though I was so pissed at you.”
He smirked, a glint of possessiveness in his eyes. “You don’t need mementos of me. You have me. This is forever.”
“You said that once before,” I whispered, my voice tinged with vulnerability.
“I was a fool,” he admitted, his eyes softening. “But not anymore.”
His words, filled with sincerity, melted the last of my resistance. This time, I believed him.
“You’ll get no argument from me,” I said, sitting up. Oliver pulled my shirt off over my head, tossing it aside with my shredded panties. His body pressed against mine before he rolled us, positioning me on top. Our lips met again, and I explored the firm muscles of his arms with my fingers as I wiggled my hips against his erection, feeling its hardness sandwiched between us. The desire to have him inside me was overwhelming.
“Don’t, Ryleigh. I’m not ready for that yet,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint.
“I am,” I insisted. “I want you inside me.”
“Tough,” he replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I want intimacy first.”
In a swift move, he rolled us again, and I was back underneath him.
“Why did you do that?” I asked, frustration creeping into my voice.
“Because I don’t trust you,” he said, his tone playful yet serious.
I laughed, shaking my head. “You think I’ll maneuver so you’re inside me? You forget, you’re ten times as strong as I am and outweigh me by at least seventy pounds.”
“If you succeed, I’ll never be able to resist. Do you know how badly I want to fuck you?” he asked, his eyes dark with need.
“Then do it and stop worrying about intimacy. We have plenty of time for it, and fucking is intimate. It’s about as intimate as you can get,” I argued.
“I don’t agree,” he countered, his voice gentle but firm. “I think we can be intimate just kissing and touching.”
“So, I have to wait?” I huffed, rolling my eyes.
“Yes, and I want you to be patient about it too.”
“Jerk,” I muttered.
“But you love this jerk,” he said, smirking. “Now be quiet because you’re ruining the mood.”
I couldn’t help but smile as he lifted off me and began to suckle my nipples. Each little nibble and lash of his tongue had my belly clenching so hard it hurt. My clit throbbed, and I was sure I was dripping by now. Oliver’s seduction was relentless, and I was more than ready for him.
“Please, Oliver,” I begged, my voice breaking.
“Be patient,” he replied, his lips curving into a wicked grin.
He nibbled the flesh just below my breast, slowly making his way down my body with kisses and nips. I writhed beneath him, frustration and desire building as he ignored my pleas. When he reached my navel, he swirled his tongue around it before trailing a line to my hairless mound. His touch was both torturous and exquisite, leaving me desperate for more.
“You smell so good,” Oliver murmured, his breath hot against my skin.
I said nothing, holding my breath and hoping his teasing would stop. I was desperate to come, whether by his tongue or his cock. His lips traced a path to my thighs, biting my taut flesh and leaving teeth marks. He sat up, kneading my calves, then slowly made his way up again.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low and seductive.
“Ready for what?” I panted, my body trembling with anticipation.
