Sexy Hart (Sexy Series) (29 page)

I slip one foot between his ankles, feeling cradled, and I smile contently, ignoring the knowledge that the alarm is going to go off again in just a few minutes. And when it does, I feel certain that there is something wrong with my phone alarm - that can’t have been ten minutes, already… can it?

“Uh…” I moan as I reach over to hit ‘snooze’ again, trying not to pull out of his embrace.

“Uh,” he repeats in response. “Too early, go in late.”

“No… I’ll get up. Ten more minutes.”

“Uh huh.”

In what seems like thirty seconds, my frigging alarm goes off again and I whimper knowing that I’ve stayed in bed for the longest possible time. I turn my head to kiss his bicep and wriggle out of his arms to sit on the edge of the bed for a moment, finding the oomph to get up and turn the shower on.

I don’t say anything to Oliver, hoping he’ll fall back asleep for a few more hours, and I manage to pull myself together and head to the bathroom.

My shower was hot and amazing, but stepping out into the cooler air and wrapping myself in another of his
cosy warm towels makes me want to curl straight back up under the covers.

Sitting on the edge of the bed again, my eyes closed,
savouring the heat from the cosy towel on my cold, goose pimpled skin - I sigh and think which colour work t-shirt and apron to wear today so I have a plan of action to get me moving. Having decided to team my capri-pants with the pastel pink shirt and mint green apron, I head straight to my bag to grab my things and get ready before I have a chance to relax.

I quite enjoy plodding around Oliver’s house in the morning, getting ready; it’s such a lovely house and so well designed and spacious that everything seems effortless. I apply my make up and do my hair in the en-suite, so when I return to the bedroom, the only thing I need to do is put my ballet shoes on.

I still feel knackered, but better for getting ready. I walk over to Oliver’s side of the bed and crouch down to look at his lovely, sleeping face. His mouth is so gorgeously full and sexy and I can’t resist the temptation to lean towards him to kiss it softly, eliciting a lovely, welcome moan. “I’ve got to go now, darling,” I whisper, brushing his cheek bone with the pads of my fingers.

“No…” he grumbles, quietly.

“Yes. But you stay in bed, you look so comfy and if you don’t actually need to go in today - I wouldn’t. Maybe I’ll pop in at lunch time to see you.”

“You want me to drive you there?” he asks, even though it’s only a few minutes walk away.

“No, thank you, darling. You stay in bed, I’ll walk - it’s just down the road.”

“Oh…okay. Hug me goodbye, then?” he asks, making me smile, and of course, you can’t possible say no to Oliver when he’s being so cute, so I wrap my arms around his shoulders and press my lips against his neck.

He hoists me up on top of him, unexpectedly, and rolls over until I’m on my back with him above me, leaning up on his elbow. I giggle. “I do have to go, Oliver.”

“I know… but you’re the boss… be a bit late. Don’t you want something sweet?” he asks, running his eyes down my body as he glides his hand down to my crotch and presses against me firmly.

I squirm a little, enjoying it too much. “Oh… I’d
love
something sweet… but I have to get to work.”

“In a minute…” he says, leaning down to kiss my neck seductively as he
skilfully works his hand over the top of my trousers.

“I… mmm…”

“Exactly.”

He continues to kiss me perfectly like that while his fingers move rhythmically in circles. I tilt my head to allow him further access and rest my hands on his hard body to
savour the feel of his perfect, soft skin. I glide them over his ridged stomach, brushing my nails through the hair on his lower belly and push one hand lower until it touches the very base of his hard, tempting erection. I sigh, succumbing to his very persuasive technique and slip my hand around to the underside to take the sensitive duo in my palm, lightly caressing, increasing my excitement, tenfold.

He groans loudly, slowly bringing his hand higher to the button of my capris and yanking it open. I really shouldn’t be doing
this, I should be going to work… I should stop… the… mmm…

He moves his lips from my neck to my
collar bone, lightly licking as he kisses. He lowers the zip on my trousers and I raise my hips to help him push them down my thighs. He leaves them there so as not to abandon my kissed skin and he slowly pushes his hands inside the top of my knickers, his fingers searching as they brush through my small patch of pubic hair to move lower.

I release his delicate family jewels in need of their solid partner in crime, ‘The Rod’. It’s such a turn on to feel how ready he is for me… again. I run my hand up and down him, feeling his shiny, thick head ready to push inside my body at any moment, and the perfect length, throbbing for me.
Me.

As he works his fingers around me, I arch backwards, moaning as I keep a tight hold on him, and I wrap my spare hand around the back of his neck to keep his lips against me. He begins to move, edging his way lower down my body with his lips until I have to release him, reluctantly; my hand bereft.

He kisses over my t-shirt until he gets to my belly, where he pushes it up and over my chest, exposing my boobs in my sexy, ‘Boux Avenue’ satin lingerie.
You’ve got to make an effort when you’ve got a hot husband to come home to… you know?

He groans loudly as he lifts the cups over my boobs, and clamps one of my hardened nipples in his mouth, causing me to gasp out loud. “Yeah…” he mumbles, nipple-in-mouth, “is that good? You like me biting and licking on your incredible body, don’t you?”

“Mmm hmm…” My head thrown back and into the pillow and my legs automatically opening as wide as they can with the trousers still clamping my thighs.

“I love tasting you… I love feeling that amazing soft skin under my hands
and
my tongue,” he says, moving further down my body, massaging my skin with his strong hands as he caresses me.

He tugs my knickers down a little and presses his full lips to my
hip bone, kissing and licking sensually. Moving across that soft, lower part of my tummy, right above my pubic bone, he groans impatiently and forces his hands underneath my buttocks, squeezing and raising me up, bringing me to his face.

“Oh god, yes…” I cry, loving his strength and sexual power; the way he squeezes my buttocks like that, so forceful and dominant, without being overly rough. God, I love it… and I have a lifetime to live it.

“I want you,” he mumbles.

“Good… you’ve got me.”

He growls as he sits back and tears my trousers and knickers down my legs and tosses them to the floor before moving backwards and stilling, pressing his hands into the flesh of my inner thighs and simply gazing at my… um… there. “Hot… so fucking hot…” he whispers before bending down, lowering his face to me and ever so gently kissing those other lips… right at the very top, just below my landing strip - reminding me that I need to book my next wax. Thank god I don’t need it just yet, I’d never let him down there with a big, seventies, hairy beaver - and I want this so much, I’d hate to have had to deter him.

His hot breath against my sensitive parts sends a shiver right through me and as he reaches out his tongue to slowly brush all the way from my lowest part, right up to my clitoris, his tongue hot and deliciously wet. I writhe in the bed and reach my hands down to thread my fingers through his soft, short hair as his face works with my naughty bits.

He makes a deep, caveman style grunt in his throat, lapping and kissing before making me shudder violently by sucking on my clitoris and flicking from side to side with his incredible tongue. “Oh god!” I shout, loud enough for the neighbours to think I’d broken a toe or something, and immediately he changes direction with his tongue, this time moving up and down with a ripple effect, and of course - I whimper again, my legs bending either side of his face while my hands make fists in his hair, pulling hard.

My obvious excitement spurs him on and he moves fervently, eagerly anticipating my
climax which is coming at me like a freight train. I look down to watch him enjoying me, working to pleasure me and he takes one hand from my thigh and slides it along the bed, under my leg and up at the other side, inviting me to touch hands. I don’t even know is it’s even possible to swoon at mega-force and feel your heart swell at the same time as an orgasm makes its express journey to the surface, but if so - that’s exactly what happens.

I release his hair and immediately lace my fingers between his, gripping his hand hard and dropping my head back into the pillow as it comes, the feeling of love and togetherness from his tender gesture and the sexual excitement hitting hard come together to form the most incredible, most powerful explosion.

As the waves build to their peak and I cry out, desperately. His tongue eases to a gentle, slow stroke, his lips clamped over me, helping savour the mind-blowing ecstasy; prolonging my delight.

“Jesus!” I cry out, loudly, my body arching, exaggeratedly, my toes curled tightly. He groans, sexily, as he lowers his tongue and dips it inside, tasting everything I can give him, soothing the spasms that thunder through my muscles.

“Oh god, Oliver…” I moan again as my body relaxes back into the bed, my heart thumping. “You’re so good…”

He chuckles as he continues to slip his tongue inside me, enjoying my pleasure almost as much as I did. “Mmm,” he groans, “I love this
, your body is… it’s perfect.”

He slowly releases my leg and hand and plants a very soft kiss against me before crawling back up the bed and over me, my bra still pushed up above my boobs along with my t-shirt.

“I thought you had to get to work…” he says with a smirk and I raise my eyebrow at him, sarcastically.

“I do… I did…”

“Did? Will you stay here? With me?”

“Oliver…” I sigh, “don’t you want me to make lots of money and bring home the bacon?”

“Earn what you like, baby, I don’t care what you bring to the table, I just want you.”

I grin. “That may be so, but I am me, and I will be bringing home the bacon, just as you will be, but I won’t be able to do that if you keep pleasuring me into submission while I’m on my way out of the door.”

“You’ll have to get stronger then, won’t you. Besides, you’re still earning, one more day off won’t make any difference to you - they’ll be expecting you to have a day off for jet lag, surely?”

“Yes, they are, but I wanted to go in.”

“Okay…” he responds with a pout, “I won’t distract you anymore.”

I roll my eyes and smile in defeat, knowing that my mind has changed since. “But my t-shirt is all creased now…” I say
, looking down at my chest and lowering my bra back over my boobs.

“It definitely is. You’ll need to change that,” he says, kissing the full flesh exposed at the top of my bra cup.

“I will,” I say, pulling it over my head and tossing it on the floor before laying back down on the pillow. “Or, just not.”

His eyes widen and he grins, expectantly. “So…”

“So… I can’t be bothered. I want to stay here with my new man.”

He wraps his arms around me and buries his head in my neck, mumbling against my skin. “Good! Your new
husband
loves that.”

“But we can’t sleep, Oliver, okay?”

“Okay. Let’s get ready and go out; have our first outing back at home as a couple.”

“Ooh, sounds fun!”

And it really, really does. I imagine the day we could have together; driving in the car, smiling and laughing, maybe a nice pub lunch on the river somewhere, a stroll, hand-in-hand where no one knows us, relaxing on his sofas, talking… Oh, it will be so romantic and fun.

With each passing hour, I seem to be getting more and more excited by the prospect of doing ‘together’ things with him, by knowing I’ll be with him forever, knowing we’re working together for something that is going to make us so very, very happy. And I realise just how much I love him, how desperately I need him in my life and how incredibly lucky I am to be able to hold him and call him mine.
In private, anyway. I’d love to go back to my tortured, heartbroken teenage years and offer poor, sad Clare a snippet of her future, a brief motion picture of what is in store for her, one day.

I quickly change into my skinny jeans and a
floaty, white blouse, and then enjoy a potter around the kitchen as Oliver gets himself ready. I set the table with two plates of Marmite on toast, coffee, juice and a big bowl of chopped fruit. As I place the bowl in the centre, the doorbell rings, so having mentally confirmed that I would have opened his front door pre-secret marriage and presuming it’s the postman, I walk out in my bare feet from the cold tiled floor of the kitchen through the plush hallway carpet to the door, having the foresight to remove my wedding band - just in case.

When I open the door, a huge twang of guilt unexpectedly strikes me and relief at my earlier foresight, as Oliver’s mother, Emily, offers an enormous, loving smile. “Good morning, darling!” she cries, stepping inside and hugging me, tightly. “Did you have a fabulous time? I wasn’t expecting to see you, you look beautiful, darling, the California sun agrees with you, too!”