Page 16 of Oliver

“You gonna let me take what I want when I fucking want, beautiful?” He nods again. I stand and look around for a substitute for lube since I don’t have any on me.

“What are you doing?” he asks, looking over his shoulder as I move towards the cupboard above the stove. I grab the olive oil and return to him.

“Lube, beautiful.” He nods and I cover my fingers in it before slicking up my cock. “You ready, gorgeous?” I ask.

“Christ, yes.”

I align myself with his entrance, then plant kisses to his shoulder blades and along his neck as I grip his hips and press inside him. He hisses and I stroke his back. “You’re okay,” I promise. “You’ve got this, Oli. Just like the first time when you took me so well, remember?”

He takes a breath and lets it out, nodding his head, and I push past his tight ring, sliding inside him, his heat surrounding me, and we both groan. “God, that’s good.” I press more kisses to his sweaty back. “You okay?”

“Yes,” he replies, his breathing heavy. “More.”

“I’m coming, baby,” I promise. “But I don’t want to hurt you.” He fucking squirms, and whimpers, and it’s so damn hot my cock jerks inside him.

“Shit!” he cries. “Please, Hunter. I need you. All of you.”

“Fuck, baby,” I say on a groan. “You make me crazy, you know that? Fucking love this perfect ass. So fucking hot watching it swallow my cock, Oli.”

“Fuck,” he moans as I bottom out. He’s trembling, and I take a deep breath this time before I slide out a little bit and push back in, then slide out even more, before pushing back in again.

“Shit!” he cries out when I peg his prostate. “Shit, that’s good. Harder.” I repeat the motion, hearing his moans and the sound of our breaths, skin slapping against skin as I pound into him again and again. The salt and pepper shakers on the table tumble over, their contents spilling out, and the table scooches slightly across the floor.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so damn good,” I growl. “Touch yourself, beautiful. I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard.”

He grips his cock and I snap my hips again and again, making him cry out. Pleasure zings down my spine and my body shakes. My balls are aching. “I’m so fucking close,” I tell him, then slide my arm around his middle and haul him up so that his back isagainst my chest and he’s impaled on my cock. Then I grip his cock over his hand as I shove up into him and stroke him at the same time.

“Oh, Christ,” he wails. “I’m going to come.”

“Yes,” I tell him. “Come for me, Oli. Be good and come hard for me.” He howls as his release spills all over our hands and onto the table, and I’m crying out seconds later as his ass clenches around me, my cock spasming as I unload my spunk inside him. Fuck, that was intense, and so damn good.

I bring my hand to his mouth. “Clean it off.”

His tongue darts out and he licks up his own release greedily, sucking my fingers into his mouth and moaning around them, making my cock jerk inside him yet again.

“So good for me,” I tell him, and watch as his cheeks flush. I press a kiss to his shoulder.

“Shit,” I say, wincing as I pull out of him. I bite my lip. My release is sliding down his perfect thighs, which is hot as hell, but it makes me realize my mistake.

“What?” he says, his breaths still heavy.

“I forgot a condom. Fuck, Oli, I’m sorry. I got so caught up in the moment, and I didn’t think. That was stupid.”

“Even stupider to let it go to waste,” he says, surprising me. I return to my knees and lap the cum from his ass and thighs and he moans again.

“Come here,” I say, standing, and he turns. I press my mouth to his and let my taste fill his mouth as I kiss him. He grips my cheeks and moans as his tongue slides over mine.

“Christ, what am I going to do with you?” he says, reaching up and brushing that stray strand of hair behind my ear again. “You almost make me believe that what I want is within reach.”

“And what’s that?” I say, as his hand cups my cheek.

He gives me a sad smile. “Happiness.”

I frown. “You don’t have to marry her, Oli, if she doesn’t make you happy. Youshouldn'tmarry her.”

“It’s all right,” he says. “I could do far worse than your mother.”

“Do you love her?” I ask, staring into his eyes.

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