Page 8 of The Hardest Hit
“Get naked,” he said. “Lay on the bed face down.”
She did as he said, but watched him. She was suddenly not so sure this was her best plan ever.
“We are using condoms, right?” she asked, resting her chin on her forearms.
“Yes, when we get there,” he said.
She watched as he stripped out of his pants. He seemed to have zero embarrassment about flashing his assets, which, as she snuck another look, seemed entirely warranted. He grabbed a bottle of lotion and set it down next to the bed, then disappeared into the bathroom and returned with condoms that he dropped next to the lotion.
“OK,” he said, doling out a handful of lotion and rubbing it over his fingers. “Here are the rules.”
“Rules?” Olivia felt more skeptical than ever. What had she gotten herself into?
“Yes, rules. Whatever you don’t like, you tell me and I’ll change it. If you want me to stop, you have to say stop.”
“OK,” said Olivia. That seemed reasonable.
“But I’m not psychic, so if you like something you have to tell me.”
That also seemed reasonable.
“OK, so let’s practice. Do you like this?” He booped her nose, and she laughed.
“No!” she said.
“Really? Are you sure?” He kept booping.
“Stop that,” she said, swatting at his hand. He immediately stopped.
“OK, how about this?” He ran his hands up the entire length of her back and she shivered.
“That, I like,” she said.
“Good.”
He swept his hands back down and then up. Evan moved his hands over her entire body, smoothing out knots in her shoulders, her back, and then surprisingly in her ass. He worked his way down to her feet. And she found that by the time he got to her toes she had stopped being able to make coherent statements about what was nice or not and simply went for happy murmurs. As he put her leg back down, she realized that he’d put it in a wider position, so that now her legs were apart. He moved his way back up her legs, fingers working along her inner thigh. He didn’t hurry. His fingers simply smoothed the muscles, back and forth. But she found herself breathing more heavily, wanting him to hurry. He slid one hand over her ass and up to her lower back. He stroked the muscles there and his other hand slid gently upward, one finger caressing and exploring. He found her clit, and gently, with hardly any pressure, circled it.
She heard herself let out a little gasp. Pressure was building inside her and she wriggled a little, trying to get him to push harder. Instead, he continued his light touch and she moaned. She knew she was wet, she knew he could be fucking her right now if he wanted. Why wasn’t he?
He continued to circle and then abruptly pulled his finger down and back up. The sudden change in rhythm left her gasping. He pressed harder now, as he went back to circles.
“Oh God, Evan,” she moaned.
She was closer now to orgasm than she had been at any point in the previous year. She felt the deep aching need to have him inside her.
“Evan, please.”
“Please, what?” he asked.
“God, Evan, please, just fuck me.” He was pushing faster now and she felt herself involuntarily flex and arch, trying to make herself more available to him. “Please, Evan, please.” She was so close. She moaned again, jerking as another spike of pleasure hit her.
“No,” he said, his voice in a husky growl as he leaned forward to nibble her ear lobe. “Not yet.”
She let out a panting, breathless moan that was half-whine.
“I need you, Evan, please. Please fuck me, please.”
“No,” he said again, and this time there was a definite chuckle in his voice. She was trembling, on the brink—his goddamn fingers were better than her fucking vibrator. “Oh, God!” She gave a shriek, burying her face into the pillow as she came.
