Page 114 of Your Second Chance
“I’m so proud of you,” I murmured, cupping her face as I pressed my lips to hers.
She shook her head gently, her eyes shimmering. “I’m proud of you.”
She rested her forehead against mine, and we stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in the quiet stillness of the hall, as if time had stopped for us. It was a stolen moment, the kind thatfelt sacred, knowing it might be the last time we’d have together before everything changed.
“Let me put Scar to bed,” I whispered. “You go take a bath and get ready for me.”
“Get ready for you?” She pulled away with a languid smirk.
I caught her hand, bringing it to my lips. “If it’s our last night together, I’m going to make it unforgettable.”
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“Oh god,” I gasped as Ollie’s tongue pressed against my sensitive nub.
He was making good on every word he’d promised earlier about making tonight unforgettable.
I was sprawled across the bed, naked, slick with sweat, my body trembling beneath his touch as his tongue worked me with unrelenting precision.
“How much are you going to miss me?”
“So much,” I rasped as his strong, thick hands gripped the outside of my thighs, holding me steady as I unraveled beneath him.
“You think Daddy can survive months without this?” he growled. “Without the way you taste? The way you drip for me?”
I whimpered, rolling my hips against his face as he devoured me.
“These thighs,” he groaned, kissing the inside of one. “I’ll miss how they tremble. How they squeeze around me when you’re begging to come.”
“Ollie...” I moaned, my voice cracking, my body trembling beneath him.
“I’ll miss your tits.” He flicked his tongue over my swollen clit. “The way you arch your back when I suck on them. I’ll miss how they bounce when I fuck you into the mattress.”
“Oh god, please.” I dug my nails into the bed, desperate for more.
His lips curved against me in a wicked smirk as he pulled back, his broad shoulders flexing as he sat up on his knees. I could barely focus, the throbbing ache between my legs demanding attention, but I trailed my gaze over his chest, his abs, and lower—to the thick, rigid length of him. My breath hitched at the sight.
“Please, Daddy...” My voice was barely a whisper, my need overwhelming.
He wrapped his hand around himself, stroking slowly, deliberately, his eyes dark and locked on mine. “You’re so pretty when you beg.” His voice was low and rough. “But I want to see how desperate you can really get.”
I whimpered, my hips shifting of their own accord, seeking relief that only he could give. But he didn’t move closer. He stayed there, towering over me like a god of temptation, his scruff-covered jaw ticking as he watched me squirm.
“Spread those legs wider for me,” he ordered, his tone commanding, and I obeyed instantly.
He leaned forward then, dragging his cock through my slick folds, teasing me with its thickness. My body arched off the bed, a cry of frustration and need escaping my lips as he paused, hovering at my entrance.
“I could bury myself inside you right now,” he murmured, his voice like gravel, his lips brushing my ear. “But where’s the fun in that?”
“Please,” I gasped, tears of desperation welling in my eyes.
“I want to feel you clench around me. I want to watch you come undone while I pump you so full of me, you’ll feel me leaking out of you for days.”
“Oh god . . .”
The words set my entire body on fire, and I bucked against him, desperate for him to stop teasing and claim me the way only he could.
