Page 76 of Game Point
‘Oh, Dylan darling,’ Oliver chuckled, ‘don’t think we are done here.’
His arms pulling me back against his body, my legswrapped around his waist on instinct. The warmth of his body radiated comfort into every one of my aching muscles. He carried me up the rest of the stairs, turning the corner along the hall, heading into my room.
‘So, this is what your room looks like,’ he hummed. I enjoyed the rumble of his voice in his chest, every vibration and movement of his body against me. I’d never felt like this with anyone, needy for physical contact and aftercare. ‘It’s messier than I thought.’
Over his shoulder, I eyed the few piles of clothing that had been forming on the floor. ‘The washing machine isn’t working.’
‘Itisworking.’ He laid me down in the middle of the bed. The soft sheets were a comfort against my skin, sensitive from the sensory overload. ‘You don’t knowhowto work it. I swear, if you hadn’t hired that cleaner to come over every few days, we’d be living in squalor.’
He eased himself beside me, his lips softly kissing along my arms.
‘Squalor,’ I repeated, mocking his accent. ‘So old-timey British of you.’ I eased an eye open, finding him pulled back, sitting on his knees beside me, a bemused expression across his features, an eyebrow arched.
‘That’s the King’s English you’re making fun of there.’ His eyes rolled as he dipped again, lips continuing their journey up to my shoulders, across my collarbone, up my throat, his stubble rough against my skin.
‘It’s fun to tease,’ I grinned at him. ‘You’d know all about that.’
His smile was cruel. ‘I’m not done yet either.’
I groaned in argument, not sure how much more Icould take. The stairs had been more than anything I’d ever experienced, leaving me needy and wet.
Fuck waiting. Fuck savouring. I was ready to be greedy.
Taking in a deep breath, I pushed myself up, hooking a leg over, pulling myself so I was on top. My hands pressed into the mattress on either side of his neck, trapping him.
‘You are wearing far too many clothes.’ I smiled down at him, my still sensitive core finding the perfect amount of contact against his crotch.
What was he hiding under all these layers?
His eyes lit up. ‘Well, now you’ve trapped me.’ He pushed up, pretending to try to escape. ‘How on earth will I undress?’ Oliver pouted.
‘I can help with that.’ I found the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one, a trail of kisses following down his sculped chest. Every time I revealed more skin, I grew hungrier for the taste of him. When the shirt was open, I pulled it down, allowing him access to pull the material off. I promptly threw it far across the room.
‘Satisfied now?’ he grinned, leaning back on his elbows.
I bit my lips, shaking my head. ‘Not quite.’
‘Well, we can’t have that.’ His voice was a croon, every inch of his bare skin a tease. I wanted to run my tongue up and down his chest, feel every curve of his well-defined chest, travel further south and take him with my mouth.
He raised a hand, curling a finger. ‘Come here.’
I leaned forward to kiss him but he only laid back further. ‘I want your pretty pussy on my face, love.’
I hummed, pretending I wasn’t sure. Like, riding Oliver Anderson’s face wasn’t something I’d thought about dayand night. Instead of doing as he said, I moved to the side, my fingers finding the zip to his shorts.
‘I have another idea in mind.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re afraid of suffocating me.’
‘No.’ I pulled at the material of his shorts. ‘Death by my pussy is probably such a wonderful way to go.’
‘That was exactly my thinking,’ he murmured, only half his attention on me. The other half was watching my hand as I slowly dipped under the elastic band of his briefs, my hand finding his cock.
It was everything I had wanted.And longer.
I watched his eyes roll backwards as I stroked him, his breathing turning laboured.
‘I still want you up here,’ he moaned.
