Page 49 of Wicked God
I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s not just physical attraction; it’s something deeper and more profound.
With deliberate slowness, I remove her panties. Olivia’s breath catches as I press a kiss to her inner thigh before my tongue traces a path along her folds. She gasps and trembles beneath me as I taste her essence.
Her legs tighten around me, urging me closer as she seeks release. I happily oblige, flicking my tongue over her sensitive bud and coaxing out soft cries from her parted lips. Olivia’s hands thread into my hair, guiding and encouraging me as pleasure builds within her.
“Alex,” she whimpers, “please... I need...”
I tease her with gentle strokes of my tongue, alternating between lazy, languid movements and quick, targeted ones. Olivia’s breathing grows ragged, and her hips move in time with mine.
“What do you need, darling?” I ask, looking up at her flushed face.
“More,” she gasps. “I need more.”
I slide two fingers into her wet core, and her muscles clench around me in response. A soft moan escapes from between Olivia’s lips as I dive back in with renewed fervor.
Her legs quiver, and she thrashes about on the counter, her moans growing louder.
“That’s it,” I whisper, my fingers working in sync with my mouth. “Let go...”
Olivia’s body arches upwards, her hands gripping onto my hair as she cries out in pleasure. Wave after wave crashes over her, her muscles contracting around me as she rides out the orgasm.
I savor the sight of her, panting and flushed, as her body calms down from its high. I withdraw my fingers and stand up, lifting her gently off the counter. She wraps her arms around me, resting her head on my chest as we catch our breath.
“Thank you.”
I lean in to kiss her softly, tasting the sweetness of her release on my lips.
“You’re welcome,” I murmur.
“Do you want... You haven’t come yet?”
“First, we eat.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then we can come back to... pleasure,” I say, a wicked smile playing on my lips. I see the heat ignite in her eyes and know that this is just the beginning. We have a whole lifetime of exploring and discovering ahead of us. “I promise to make it worth your wait.”
Chapter 23
Olivia
The rest of the week is a strange, sweet blur. At work, Cassandra keeps giving me these sly, sidelong looks whenever I pass her desk, and when I return from lunch flushed and messy-haired, she just waves a hand and says, “You look like a woman with a secret.”
I don’t even bother denying it. I grin and float through the rest of my shift, finishing projects with machine-like efficiency, so my evenings are free for Alex.
He insists on driving me home every day. Sometimes, he picks me up in one of his beautiful cars. Sometimes, we walk hand-in-hand, like the most ordinary couple in the world. Once, when we’re halfway down Oak Street, he ducks into an alley and kisses me breathless; I feel his hands everywhere, and I want him, rightthere against the graffiti and dumpsters. The thought makes me ache for hours after.
But there is more. He cooks for me—actual meals with more skill and care than I have ever managed with a recipe in my life. He texts me pictures of half-prepped vegetables and smeared wooden spoons, asks me what wine to get, and if I have a favorite dessert. I reply with emojis and GIFs, and sometimes we end up FaceTiming while he stands in his kitchen in an apron, stirring something red and brilliant on the stove, bare forearms dusted with flour.
The only time I come back to my apartment is to grab clothes or check on Duchess. Even then, I’m restless, counting the minutes until I can return to Alex. It’s dangerous, this addiction I’ve developed for him, but I can’t stop myself.
I am happy. No, more than that: I am electric, a little drunk on this sudden brightness that’s overtaken the gray rationality of my existence. Any time I catch my reflection—elevator doors, train windows, gallery restrooms—I see the same thing Cassandra must: a woman with a secret, a woman transformed.
There’s a part of me that whispers this isn’t sustainable, that I’m losing myself in him, but I silence it quickly. I’ve spent so much of my life holding back, controlling every move, every word. With Alex, I feel free in a way I never have before. It’s intoxicating, and I don’t want it to end.
Still, the cracks are starting to show. Tiffany’s calls go unanswered more often than not, and when I do pick up, I can hear the frustration in her voice.
“Liv, you’ve been MIA for weeks. What’s going on?” she asks.
I make excuses—work, stress, exhaustion—but she doesn’t buy it.
She knows me too well.
