Ten Thousand Words (40 page)

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Authors: Kelli Jean

BOOK: Ten Thousand Words
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Oliver pressed a tender kiss to it before shifting his body between my legs.

“Please,” I said. “I want to open my eyes.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

When he was on his knees, his hands smoothed down my thighs, raising my legs to plant my feet flat on the mattress. His eyes roamed from my cunt up to my torso and breasts before finally meeting my gaze.

“You take my breath away,” he said.

My heart constricted and then expanded with his words.

Taking his cock in his hand, he rubbed the head of himself over my clit. “Do you want me?”

“Always,” I replied, breathless. “From the very second I saw your photograph.”

He smiled, dropping his gaze and pressing the head of himself into me. “That was the luckiest day of my life.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He nodded. “I just didn’t realize it right away.” He pushed in a little more and then pulled back.

“Oliver?”

“Yes, love?” His eyes met mine. He’d been watching his cock.

“Quit fucking around. I want you.”

He scowled at me, and I clenched around the bit of him that was inside me. His hands grabbed my hips, sharply pulling me toward him, as he slammed forward.

Oh, fuck yes!

“Like that?”

My hands fisted into the bedspread, and I nodded. “Yes.”

His grin was wicked, as was the glint in his eyes. I was still wearing my glasses, and I reached up to take them off.

“Don’t,” he warned. “I want you to see me when I come.”

Damn, he was the hottest man on the fucking planet.

He ground into me, sending a sweet, stinging pain through my cervix. I gasped, pushing my feet into the bed to get even more. Retreating slowly, his hands slid down to grasp my arse, and he thrust into me full force.

“Mmm…I like watching your tits bounce like that.” He did it again. “Fucking perfect. If I keep watching, I’m going to embarrass myself again.”

Before I could even blink, he pulled out and flipped me over. He tore my hair down, groaning when it spilled over my back. Yanking me up on all fours, he drew me into his groin, pushing into me once more. His moan was so fucking sexy that I involuntarily clenched around him.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Oliver got real foul-mouthed when he was turned on. I loved it. It meant he was getting close and personal with his basest nature.


Yes
,” I hissed, grinding back, taking him as deep as I could.

Grabbing my hips, his fingers flexing into my flesh, Oliver plunged with hard, long powerful strokes, making sure to repeatedly punch that awesome pain through me, until I was moaning my head off. Face-planting onto the bed, my glasses biting into the bridge of my nose, I screamed out my orgasm through a mouthful of duvet.

Again, he flipped me over. He pulled me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, as he sat back on his heels. Thrusting into me, he held me to him, panting for breath.

Plucking the glasses from my face, he tossed them aside. “Can you see me all right?”

“Yes.”

With his left arm wrapped around my bottom, his right hand came up to cup my face, his thumb rubbing softly across my lips. I slid my arms around his shoulders. His warm whiskey eyes burned into mine.

“I love you, Xanthe.”

Now, my eyes were burning from the tears that had sprung up. “I love you, too, Oliver.”

The breath escaped between his parted lips, fanning my face. His hand slid into my hair, fisting loosely, and then his mouth took possession of mine, his tongue demanding entry.

Everything about this man exuded pure, raw, sensual sexuality. Powerful, protective of what was his. Demanding and generous all at once.

A fierce pride swelled up inside me. This man was
mine
.

Slowly, he began driving into me, holding me steady with one arm. His mouth feasted on mine, and I returned it in equal measure. My hands went to his hair, fingers tangling and snagging. He growled at me. He liked having his hair pulled.

As he punched his hips faster, harder, his hand left my hair to grab my arse.

“Hold on, love,” his voice ground out.

I tightened my hold, impressed when he rose up on his knees. I squeezed his waist with my thighs. He lifted me up and then rammed me down his cock.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered.

Exquisite pressure built up inside me, making me frenzied. I moaned, urging him to go even harder and faster. No longer in control of my body, I pulled back his head by his hair, reveling in the lusty growl that worked its way over his vocal cords. Oliver had a beautiful neck, a nicely pronounced Adam’s apple. From his collarbone, I licked up, loving the salty flavor that spread across my tongue.

Oh my God…

I was starting to peak once again, and my head dropped back. My hands slipped from his hair to his shoulders, digging into the muscles, and everything inside me tensed up into one condensed throbbing point. Starbursts exploded behind my lids, and I was blown apart in a million different directions. I couldn’t help the feral groan I unleashed.

Never had I felt anything like
that
.

“Wow,” Oliver whispered.

I went limp. Oliver held me up, still thrusting, pushing into me.

“I’m going to come,” he said. Indeed, he sounded on the verge of losing it.

He wants me to watch, to see him fall apart, only for me.

It was a struggle, but I managed to open my eyes, and what I saw blew me away all over again. His jaw clenched, his nostrils flared, sweat was shimmering upon his knotted brow, and his eyes were tightly screwed shut. He was primal beauty, pleasure so profound that it bordered on painful. Oliver’s head fell back, the tendons in his neck standing out in cords. His Adam’s apple dipped low as a marvelous shout released into the air.

Inside me, he swelled before his cock jerked wildly. The heat of him flooded me. Wrapping his arms around me, sinking back on his heels, he buried his face in my hair.

“Jesus…” he sighed.

Through all of my experiences, all the types of love I had known and felt, this was
it
. This was the most amazing force of love yet. What I felt for Oliver trumped everything else. This all-consuming intense, fiery emotion that burned within me was only for him.

He stretched us out over the bed, cradling me into his body, pulling my leg up over his hip. He was still inside me, still a part of me. I clung to him, feeling his heart beat through me. Everything was sensation, wonderful, soft as air, warm, lovely, and liquid.

“Nothing in my whole life has ever come close to that,” he quietly told me.

I sighed. “Me neither.”

Ollie

Last night, all night, I’d made love to my woman. Somewhere in the early hours, she had passed out in my arms, well sated, with a soft smile on her face.

As I woke though, the space next to me was empty. The sun was bright, cheerful, late morning light, but a strange sense of disappointment filled me because she wasn’t there. The toilet flushed behind the closed bathroom door, and then I heard the running of the faucet.

A few minutes later, gloriously naked, Xanthe quietly opened the door.

My morning wood throbbed.

Xanthe tiptoed her way over to her dresser, opening the top drawer.

“Love,” I said, making her jump.

She dropped the pair of panties back into the drawer.

“Hey,” she said softly, turning to face me. “I thought you were still sleeping.”

“Come here,” I commanded. “I told you how we needed to wake up every morning.”

She made her way toward me. I held my hand out, and she squinted at it before taking it.

Shit, she must really have terrible eyesight.

I tugged her down on top of me, adoring the smile stretching her mouth.

“Jaime’s working for me today,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

“I got the day off, too,” I told her.

Pushing herself up to straddle me, she flirtatiously asked, “What should we do then?”

“Hmm…”

Scooting back, she tugged the covers off me, sucking in a sharp breath at the sight of my erection. I grinned like a dipshit. Everything about this woman made me so stupidly happy, especially when I could see the open emotion written on her face. It wasn’t very often she let it show.

Braced on all fours above me, she pressed a kiss to the spot right over my tripping heart. Her warm breath tickled through the hair there, and I arched my back as her lips made contact.

My groin pulsed deeply.

She had put her hair up while in the bathroom, and my hands quickly tugged out the knot, letting the silky mass spill over me. Her warm scent filled my nose, and I groaned. Moving slightly to the left, she tongued a nipple, nipping gently. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had done that, and I didn’t remember enjoying it, but I did this time.

Her hot, wet mouth trailed down over my belly, lightly scraping her teeth over my skin, exciting me as nothing ever had before. Between my legs, I was aching, heavy, desperate to feel some pressure. My hips lifted, seeking the soft warmth of her.

She laughed, making me that much harder.

“Xanthe,” I panted.

My hands fisted into the bedsheets. When she nuzzled into my groin, I grabbed a fistful of her hair, silently begging her to give me what I needed.

She only laughed more, kissing the sensitive crease between my manhood and thigh.

“Love,
please
!”

Taking pity on me, Xanthe gave my cock a fat lick from root to tip before sucking the head of me into her mouth. A soft hand cradled my sac. Sparkling sensations shot from my groin to the base of my skull, making my neck arch. My fist tightened in her hair.

“More,” I begged.

Never had I been at any woman’s mercy before. It would be easy to throw her down and fuck us both senseless, but what Xanthe was doing to me with her soft caresses and teasing kisses held me captive. It was the most wonderful torture.

Her husky laughter filled me as she rose up, my hand falling from her hair. She straddled my waist, grasping me in her hand. As she rubbed the head of me through her lush, wet warmth, my hands went to her hips, squeezing brutally.

Xanthe purred, “Do you want me, Oliver?”

“Yes.”

As she slipped me inside her, sliding down the length of me, I gasped and arched, pulling her down until I was fully seated within her. Her pulse gently teased me, her sigh a declaration of her joy.

Taking my hands from her waist, she laced her fingers with mine. Her eyes were on my face, I was staring straight into them, but…

“Can you see me?” I whispered.

Slowly riding me, she replied, “I don’t need to. I’m not
blind
, you know.”

I smiled, and when she smiled in return, I knew she could see well enough. But she was right. There was no need for sight. The slick friction of her slipping up and down the length of me, the soft cushion of her thighs around my hips, the sensual whisper of our skin sliding against each other were more than enough.

I closed my eyes, simply allowing myself to be immersed in this sensory haze. Her breath, my sighs, her moans, my gasps—all of it created a symphony of sex, love, and lust that swelled within us, around us, lifting us toward our mutual destination.

I’d never allowed a woman to take charge in bed. This was amazing, uplifting in a way I’d never experienced before. Xanthe was strong, a force of power above me, surrounding me, holding me close, and promising me everything I never imagined I would need. I felt powerful myself in my surrender to her. It wasn’t even
surrender
as much as it was acceptance. My Xanthe wanted to show me how much she loved me.

My breath caught in my chest, and my eyes stung with burning tears. Opening them, my vision dazzled through the sheer wet veil, seeing her face glowing in the sunlight, her eyes closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed rose. The gentle bounce of her breasts, the soft swell of her belly as the muscles beneath stretched flat and then contracted…slow, deliberate, it was all so gorgeous.

Oh my God…she’s making love to me.

No woman had ever
made love
to me. It struck me soul-deep, creating this incredible glow to spark and spread through every part of me. The tears in my eyes spilled out at the corners, and I couldn’t even feel shame for them. I was so humbled yet so ecstatic.

Tugging on her hands, I brought her close, her chest pressed to mine. Taking her face in my hands, I kissed her in an attempt to tell her without words how she made me feel.

Xanthe moaned, kissing me back with just as much passion.

“Oh God…” I whispered, swallowing hard. Feeling her, tasting her, smelling her, all wrapped up with the intensity I felt for this woman…the tide was coming to take me, and I needed her with me. “Love, I’m so close.”

“Me, too,” she whispered.

Her pace increased, and it took all my willpower not to become frenzied beneath her. That incredible tingling that zipped down my spine whenever I was with her started vibrating, my back arching, while I tried to keep rhythm with her. My eyes screwed tightly shut, my jaw clenched, and I felt her tightening around me. Her moans grew louder, and her hands speared through my hair, pulling fistfuls, as she sank her teeth into the meat of my shoulder. Squeezing down on me, she cried out around my flesh, and I tightly wrapped my arms around her and exploded into her with a roar that left me shaken from brain stem to toes.

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