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His hands molded my breasts and I felt myself melting into his touch, sighing as he gently squeezed the rounded flesh. When his thumbs ran over the sensitive buds, I cried softly, feeling the sensation go straight into my core.
I ran my hands down from his abdomen to where his member rose, seeking my touch. I stroked him gently and heard his breath catch, heard him hiss in restrained pleasure. With a curious sort of delight, I explored the ridges of his manhood, learning him slowly, intently.
He felt like hot steel encased in velvet and when I touched him, he only seemed to grow larger in my hands.
He grabbed my leg and hooked it around his waist as he pressed me against the wall of the shower. When I looked up to him, his eyes were dark and wild with desire.
He was no longer the cool, methodical doctor.
Nor was he the charming boy of my youth.
Before me stood Oliver themanand every scrap of my soul called out to him.
He kissed me again, a hand squeezing my breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. I felt a slight pain that was overshadowed by an intense pleasure, a wild arousal. He pinched it and I gasped, arching into him.
I stroked him as he tenderly touched my butt while the warm water still ran over our bodies. While he placed one hand on my cheek—his thumb on my lower lip—his other hand squeezed my butt. I felt the heat burn within me, burn all of my fears and doubts.
I felt myself burning. Unfolding. Like a flower in the summer sun.
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, wings of flame unfurling.
In that moment, there was only me and Oliver and the glorious pleasure we brought each other as we touched.
I bit my lip, delirious with desire.
“Can you feel it, Amanda?” he asked me, his voice low and laden with desire. “Can you feel this thing between us?”
I nodded, barely able to string together a coherent thought, let alone a few words.
“Tell me,” he whispered, “what is it that you desire the most?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
OLIVER
The sunlight filtered through the curtains of Amanda’s bedroom, casting a soft glow on the woman lying next to me, ensconced in my arms. A warm feeling spread across my chest at the glorious sight of her, with her hair fanning across my arm and her pillow. Even the sheets draped loosely over her naked body could not hide the splendor of her curves.
Curves that I had spent all of last night exploring, touching carefully, etching each nook and cranny of her into my memory.
Because memories are all I will have after this, I thought sadly to myself.God, she is so beautiful, so exquisite…There will never be another woman like her in my life.
My eyes fluttered close as I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.Another memory to tide me over when all this is nothing more but a memory…
She shifted in my arms and smiled sleepily as she looked up at me with her beautiful sea-green eyes. I felt my breath hitch at the soft, sultry curve of her lips, the warm curve of her breast pressed against me, the softness of her ass beneath my palm.
My blood quickened in my veins and I felt the first stirrings of arousal.I don’t think there will ever be a moment that I won’t be wildly attracted to her.
Amanda was very beautiful, yes, and I was pretty sure that from an objective viewpoint, there were many other beautiful women out there in the world.
But none of them could ever compare to her.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” I murmured.
“Good morning, Oliver,” she replied softly, her hands tracing my awakening member.
I laughed hoarsely at her audacity. “You certainly know how to wake a man up.”
“You’re the only man I’ve ever dared to wake up to like this.”
