Page 18 of His to Cherish
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere more private,” he grunts. I hide my face in his neck, trying to get myself under control. It’s no use, though. I finally understand Oliver, my best friend. I finally know what he wants, what he needs. And I think I might just be able to give it to him.
If only I can be brave enough to let go.
A moment later he’s opening a nondescript door and carrying me into a pitch-dark side room. The door slams shut behind us, drowning out the sounds of punishment, play, and pleasure from outside. Oliver presses something on the wall and soft light fills the space. I don’t even have a chance to look around before he’s tossing me down onto a sofa, making me squeal.
“Fuck, I like that noise,” he grumbles, moving quickly to take off his suit coat. “I wonder if that’s the noise you’ll make when I’m inside you.”
Holy. Shit.
It’s crazy to think that just a few hours ago, Oliver and I were sitting in our usual booth at Hoops like it was any other night. Just a few hours ago I was wishing and praying that he might be attracted to me. And now we’re here, doing this, and it’s all so overwhelming I just might scream.
But then Ollie is sliding over me on the couch, pushing me into the cushions so I’m flat on my back. His mouth is on mine again, just as hungry and insistent, his hands sliding up over my thighs before coming to a stop on my hips.
“Is this really happening?” I whisper.
“Yes, babygirl. It really is.” He kisses me again before pulling back, staring deep into my eyes. “If you want it.”
“I do.”
He studies me. “But you’re nervous?”
I try to avert my eyes, feeling shy, but Oliver is having none of it. He presses a hand to my cheek, forcing my gaze back to him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I…I want it to be good for you. I don’t have a lot of experience and?—”
He grunts, pressing his lower body against my leg, and I can feel how hard he is. “That’s a good thing, babygirl,” he croons. “I like you innocent.”
My face flushes. “But what if…What if I’m not good at this? I’ve never…played like this before. I just?—”
“Hey,” he says, pressing a finger against my mouth to stop my babbling. “You don’t need to worry, Lilly. I’ve got you.” His eyes flare. “And I’m going to tell you exactly what to do.”
“You are?”
He gives me a wolfish grin. “That’s kind of the point, sweetheart. I need to be in control. I want to tell you what to do. Daddy wants to teach his girl.”
God, it’s so twisted. Should I be totally turned off by this entire situation? I’m not. Not even a little bit. In fact, my hipsrise off the couch of their own accord, grinding into him, my aching center desperate for contact.
“You like that,” he murmurs. “Good girl.” He kisses me once, softly. “You trust me, baby?”
“I’ve always trusted you.”
He kisses me again, just as gentle, his lips barely brushing over mine. It’s the last bit of soft I’m going to get from him for a long time.
“Stand,” he orders, pulling me up from the couch. He takes my hips, moving me into place in front of him while he settles back on the cushions. He looks up at me, eyes dark. Then he reaches for the straps of my dress and tugs them down. “This fucking dress,” he mutters, watching as my tits pop free of the fabric. He groans. “I knew you weren’t wearing a bra tonight. Damn it, Lilly.”
“It didn’t go with the dress.”
He glares at me. “You think this is allowed, sweetheart? You think Daddy wants you going out like this?” He grabs my hips, tugging me closer. He’s tall enough that we’re nearly at eye level, even with him sitting, and he brings my face within inches of his. “This skimpy little dress. These damn shoes. No bra. Do you have any idea how many men were looking at you? At the bar. At the restaurant. Here at the club. I wanted to beat the shit out of all of them.”
“I only wore it for you.”
He releases my hips and I nearly stumble without him to steady me. He leans into the back of the couch, gazing up at me, expression dark. “Dress all the way off.”
I slide it the rest of the way off with shaking fingers. Then I’m standing in front of him in nothing but my heels and panties, while my best friend sits there, fully clothed, watching me.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, eyes sweeping over my frame. “I’ve imagined the way you would look so many times,sweetheart. Gotten myself off to the fantasy more times than I can count.” The idea of Ollie touching himself while thinking of me has me swaying on my feet again, and he grips the side of my thighs, steadying me. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”
