Page 98 of Mended Hearts

He captured my mouth, hand slipping between us to notch his cock at my slick entrance. He dragged his crown through my wetness, swiping over my clit, and I bucked, desperate for more.

His head dropped as pre-cum gleamed on his tip, and he ran a thumb over the pearl of liquid. Lust hooded brown eyes lifted to my mouth as he palmed his thick crown. “Open, beautiful.”

I parted my lips, heat blooming as he cupped my cheek and slid that thumb between my lips. I sucked the salty trace of him, filthy and delicious.

“Good fucking girl.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then stretched over me for the bedside drawer. Ink shifted on his chest—a pocket watch cradled in laurel leaves, frozen at 7:03—before he pressed a condom into my hand and shoved my thong down my legs like its existence offended him.

“Lift.”

I obeyed, and the torn lace vanished.

Tearing open the foil with my teeth, I slipped out the slick rubber and smiled up at him as he straightened above me, his hand grazing over my face with so much adoration it nearly sent a chill down my spine. He stroked himself, and another drop pearled, my pulse spiking.

“Put it on me.” His voice was pure command, and the throb between my legs answeredyes, sir. He knew it, too.

Holding his gaze, I nudged his hand aside and fisted that glorious, veiny length. He moaned, head tipping back. I slid the condom down, cupping his balls; his eyes snapped open, ravenous.

He was going to devour me.

“Turn over, Leigh.” He eased back. “All fours.” I scrambled into position—anything but graceful, yet his grin said it was perfect.

Rough palms closed over my hips.

“My little Aphrodite is quite eager to please.”

I nodded. What was a mortal supposed to say tothat? The goddess of love? Holy shit.

“I fucking knew it.” He folded his body over mine, one hand clamping my hip while the other skimmed up my side, raising goosebumps until his fingers curled at my neck. Ollie turned my face, stealing a kiss so primal it bordered on worship. “Remind me—didn’t you beg for my handprint on this pretty ass?”

I nodded—desperate.

The crack rang out a beat before the sting bloomed. A gasp tore free, my pussy clenching as my mouth fell open.

Polite, respectful Oliver was gone. This version—feral and commanding—lit me up.

Another nod, another slap, another quiver of anticipation rippled through my core as I arched back into him.

“You like that,” he rasped.

I nodded again. Athird smack sent a helpless moan spiraling from my throat; I braced on my forearms, pressing my ass into his palm.

“Good.” He soothed the sting with a slow rub, then lined his cock at my entrance, sliding the swollen tip through my slick folds. “I need you, Leighton—more than you can imagine.”

“Then take me.”

He did—no warning, no preamble, no hesitation. One brutal, beautiful thrust filled me to the hilt. The stretch bordered on pain, pleasure spiking so sharp my legs trembled.

So.

Fucking.

Full.

Holy hell, the manjustgot inside me and my body was shuddering around him.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “You’ve got all of me, baby.”

I sucked in a breath and arched, drawing him somehow deeper. He chuckled.

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