Page 65 of Bartholomew
“I am not opposed to that. I just meant to say how am I supposed to decide if I want to do this if I don’t really try it. Isn’t that a thing? Like a trial or something?” I asked, shivering in the cold room.
“A trial period is absolutely a thing. A thing we can talk about tomorrow. Now dig into that tray of delicious foods,” he ordered with a chuckle. He licked his lips. I pulled a piece of cheese from the tray and offered it to him. “No, I don’t want that.”
“Oh, do you want fruit or a cracker, then?” I asked, naming off things he had placed on the tray. Suddenly, his hands grabbed my thighs, right above my knees, pulling me to the edge of the table. “Ollie!” I shrieked in surprise.
“Hush, love. You get to eating that food. You need the sustenance,” he chided.
“What about you?” I asked, confused.
“Oh, I’m about to eat my favorite meal on Earth,” he chuckled darkly. His hands pushed my thighs wide, and his lips dove into my folds. Suddenly, everything else faded away as he feasted on me, his name my only thought as I screamed it, again, to the heavens.
CHAPTER14
BARTHOLOMEW
She was incredible. We had sat down the day after our first ever scene, and mapped out a full list of things she had never done. It was astonishing to realize that several of the items on her list I had not experienced either. Fucking growing up in Zion. The land where children must have no memories of fun or adventure. Well, that was going to change now.
In the days that passed, we had solidified a game plan of ideas, of things to try. We had also sat down for a serious talk about kink. That had been one of the most difficult conversations in my life. Not because of anything she said, per se. No, it was much more the fact that I was talking about all these deliciously lewd details, and she was asking these terribly sordid questions, and I had to steel myself against the overwhelming desire to show her every little detail we discussed. The more lewd and vulgar terms that came out of her mouth, the more I wanted to plunge into her tight, wet heat again and again.
She had taken everything I had to say and had truly thought it through. We had agreed not to engage in any kink, at least for a few days, until she had time to think things over and ask more questions. Christ, those questions about killed me. Instead, I had taken her to bed every night — and often during the day — and lost myself inside her tightness, day after day.
Today, nearly a week after that incredible night where I had first shown her kink, where she had first called me Daddy, we were going to be doing something new. Well, kind of. It was the first step to something new.
“Delilah, are you in the kitchen?” I called from the front door. I had ordered her something special, and Malachi had dropped it by the house after picking it up from our post office box in the city. I would have had Levi pick it up, but he seemed to be under a very watchful eye now that he was working with Father at the church.
“I’m in here,” she hollered from the living room.
“Oh, good. Okay, stop doing whatever it is you’re doing. I bought you something!” I beamed with pride. Her face looked confused, and then a touch timid. “Now, now, don’t get all weird. Gifts are going to happen, and you are going to have to deal with it. Here!” I exclaimed, shoving the cardboard box in her hand. She turned the package this way and that, pulling a sticky note from the bottom of it I had not seen.
“Hope this gets you laid so you will be less of a pain in my —”
“Fuck!” I exclaimed, quickly pulling the sticky note from her hand. Fucking Malachi. “That was from Malachi. He’s a douche. Nothing to see here!” I crumpled the note and shoved it in my pocket, making a mental note to slaughter my brother at the earliest convenience for his stupidity.
“What did you get me, Ollie?” she asked skeptically.
“Open it and find out,” I said, sitting on the couch like a kid on Christmas morning. I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to see her face when she opened the gift. Or gifts, as the case truly was.
She opened the package, sitting down on the floor to pull each item out. As she pulled the first piece of lingerie out of the box, she looked at me with a look of confusion. Her brow furrowed as she looked at the garment from the front and the back.
“What is this?” she asked. Her tone was not the happy excitement I had hoped for, but surely, she just needed to try it on to understand.
“It’s lingerie. Really pretty lingerie,” I explained with excitement. It was a beautiful rosy-blush nightie with pretty cream lace. It was sheer, showing everything, yet covering a good bit of skin. I knew it would look incredible on her, enhancing that blush that liked to bloom over her body so prettily. “Do you love it?” I implored.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she set the garment to the side, pulling the next piece from the box. A beautiful navy-blue number with a strappy top that would look amazing crisscrossed over her luscious tits. I couldn’t wait to see how it lifted them up and enhanced those incredible curves. The bottom of this number was a pair of equally strappy panties, complete with see-through lace that left nothing to the imagination. Granted, my mind couldn’t stop picturing her in it. Truth be told, I could not stop thinking about ripping it off of her.
“That one is going to look so good on you, Delilah. You should model each of these for me. There is a green one in there as well. Dark green that will look so good —”
“Are you kidding me?” she huffed incredulously. I looked at her, surprised to find not confusion written on her face, but pain. Pain? What was she in pain over?
“I — I don’t know what you mean,” I pandered, finding myself confused.
“I mean, what were you thinking?” she sighed, exasperated.
“I’m lost. I mean, I bought them for you. To wear,” I prattled off lamely. This was not the reaction I had been expecting. She pulled the green number out, immediately tossing it to the side, and then pulled the last item out. A beautiful green swimsuit. She was going to look amazing in it. I just knew it.
“Are you for real, Ollie?” she grumbled. The question seemed rhetorical, and to be honest, I was too busy trying to figure out what the hell was happening to truly respond.
“I honestly don’t know what to say right now. I’m so confused. I thought you’d be happy.” I wrung my hands in my lap.
