Page 61 of Bartholomew
“I mean that each scene I’ve done was its own thing. Sometimes Sir fits. Sometimes Daddy. Once or twice Master fit, but that wasn’t as much to my liking. Hell, one time I was called The Captain,” he chuckled.
“The Captain? Really?” I giggled right back, but I found myself caught on one of the names he had mentioned. I did not want to say it out loud, but something about it made my core clench and butterflies erupt in my stomach.
“Yes, really. But what do you like?” he asked sincerely.
“Oh, I don’t know…” I trailed off, trying to sound nonchalant.
“You are not getting away that easily, darling,” he chided. “Tell me the truth. Did any of the names I suggested stick out to you? Or is there a name you have in mind?”
“It seems weird, but…” Stupid lack of courage. I couldn’t seem to get the word past my lips.
“Say it,” Ollie whispered into my ear, taking a quick nip at the tender lobe.
I gasped, and with it, spoke the word. “Daddy.”
“That will do quite nicely, little firefly,” he chuckled darkly. “Should we decide to enter into any kind of dynamic, that is.”
I blinked rapidly, pulled a little abruptly from the moment.
“Is that not something you want?”
“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that nothing has been decided. We can talk more about that later. Right now, I need you to turn around.” How was his voice so seductive all the time?
Awkwardly, I shifted until I was facing him, my knees pulled up in front of me. He looked at me with such desire. It made little to no sense in my brain. I felt like a busted can of biscuits. All lumps and rolls, when here he was looking like a Greek god who came to Earth to seduce womankind.
“Come to me,” he whispered, taking my hand, and pulling me towards him until my legs wrapped around his waist. The bath was large, but still it was a tight fit. His chest pressed against mine, the light brush of his chest hair over my nipples causing them to harden and pebble.
“How do you make me feel this way without even trying?” I asked, already breathless, as our bodies slid sensually against each other in the steaming, scented water.
“It’s all you, firefly. All you with those eyes that pull me in, with those lips that make me hunger for you, with those curves that lured me in like a siren’s call,” he groaned against my lips. His cock had already hardened again between us. He was insatiable. And he made me feel like Aphrodite herself in these moments.
I kissed him. Slowly and sensually, with no rush at all. I reached behind him, my arms over his shoulders, and found the loofah he had used to wash me. It was my turn. I soaped up the sponge quietly. Still lost in our lazy kisses, I ran the sponge over the broad range of his shoulders.
“Mmm, Delilah,” he groaned against my lips, reveling in my touch. I felt my core clench, already needy for him again. He was making me insatiable.
“Let me give you care, too, Ollie,” I whispered, letting the loofah slide over his skin just as slowly as he had done to me. Our lips met, teasing one another as I bathed him slowly.
“I need you,” he whispered against my lips.
“I need you,” I readily agreed. My hips shifted against his, wanting nothing more than for the head of his shaft to slip between my folds and push me towards bliss once more. But he had other ideas.
“Lean back, baby,” he uttered softly. One of his arms held me, a steel rod across my middle back, while his other hand slid deftly down between us, into the water. His fingers found my clenching core with ease, pulling my clit from its hood and exposing it to the warm water — and to his touch.
“Ollie!” I groaned, my body shifting, yearning, and aching for his touch. “Please. Slide inside me,” I begged. I didn’t care. I didn’t care if I sounded like a fool. I needed him as much as I needed air in my lungs.
“Soon, babygirl. Soon,” he whispered, our lips meeting again, hungrily. Teeth clashing, tongues sparring, we kissed with a fierce passion. My hands gripped his shoulders as his fingers circled and twisted, dancing some erotic dance across my sensitive folds, and teasing my clit to a trembling climax. “That’s it, babygirl. Fall apart for me.”
His words only drove me deeper into my desire for him. I felt empty. I needed more. I needed him. I needed—
“Ugh,” I sighed, exasperated, as I pulled his hand from my core, wrapping my hand around his hard length and stroking him.
“Jesus fucking Christ! Delilah,” he groaned, his eyes wide and his jaw slack in surprise. I moved my hand over him more quickly, watching and reading every reaction that crossed that gorgeous face.
“Yes?” I asked coyly.
“Fuck!” he cried out as my hand wrapped around the head of his cock, slick with the pre-cum that was leaking from his tip and into the water.
There was power here. It felt like I was vibrating with it; with this ability to make him see stars as he had done to me time and time again now. And I yearned for it. I hungered for the pleasure we created together. I needed him.
