All of my careful planning and learning and hard work disappears. The only thing left in its wake is the choking stink of failure.
In less than a second, I rip the blankets off and pull Liv’s body to me. In two seconds, I am on top of her, wedging my hips between her thighs. In an eternity, I am shoving my cock into her tight channel and throwing my head back at the sheer ecstasy I have been deprived of for so long. Time blurs and awareness boils down to the sensation of my dick being enveloped by her wet heat until I hit a solid barrier. All I know is the feeling of thrusting into her with full force as I grip her hips and sink my fingers into her flesh. Meaningless sounds and words roll over my taut muscles with no single source to attribute them to. I come hard enough to cause myself excruciating pain as my cock spasms and rams against a wall it cannot break through no matter how hard I push.
I collapse on top of her, muscles twitching in agony, an electrical storm in my brain searing all my nerve endings into millions of points of blinding sensation. The feel of something pulling at me barely registers. A sharp sting on the skin of my ass, the pressure of a grinding motion creating friction at my hips.
“Oh, God,” a guttural sound that is abrasive to my pounding ears.
“Ollie,” a whispered word that only one person ever uses reorients everything in a dizzying rush.
Liv is beneath me, her legs locked around my waist, her hand gripping my ass like she could possibly pull me any closer. She is rocking her body against the undoubtedly crushing weight of mine on top of her. My dick aches and burns, heightening the squeezing and pulsing sensation all around the hypersensitive skin.
“Liv,” I breathe against her neck then suck on the salty tang of her skin. My mouth moves against her body, drinking up anything and everything within reach. I land on her lips and pull her tongue into my mouth, certain it will be the last thing I ever taste.
She tears her mouth away from mine and cries out a sound of exquisite anguish. Her nails break my skin. The marks will be there for at least a week.
It hurts so fucking bad, but I roll my hips to match my rhythm with hers, drawing out her pleasure until she is a writhing, sweaty mess of whimpers beneath me.
“Ollie,” she cries, tearing running down her face.
My lungs are still working too hard for speech to be coherent, and my brain is only barely functioning. “Don’t...let…me…again…”
She chuckles a little and even the slight reverberations against my chest are torture. “It’s okay. I read that even if a woman orgasms up to forty-five minutes after the man deposits his sperm, it’s still effective at boosting chances of conception.”
“No,” I pant against her neck. “Hurt…you.”
“It’s okay,” she murmurs against my ear, her lips tickling me like a thousand shards of glass. “I’m okay.” She tunnels her fingers through my hair and glides her hand along my back.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
The steadiness and predictability of the sensation focus my senses.
“Not okay. Do not let me again. Slap me out of it.”
“Do you mean snap you out of it?” she whispers.
“No. Slap. Face. You are not any woman. You are Liv.”
“What does that mean?” She kisses my cheek so tenderly, it creates my own tears. “Ollie? What does that mean?”
“Your…name.” Breathing is returning to normal. Brain activity not so much.
“I still don’t know what that means.” She rubs her lips against my cheek.
It is too much.
“Without you, I exist.” Deep breath. In. Out. Release. “With you, I live.”
11
Olivia
The sensation of lips dragging across my bare back rouses me. I smile into the pillow and repress the urge to squeal. Instead, I wriggle my legs beneath the blankets and immediately wince.
“I’m sorry, Liv,” he sighs against my skin, his hand the slightest caress around my shoulder and down my arm. His solid body warms my back. “I can do better. I will do better. I promise. I know how to be gentle.”
A low, throaty chuckle rasps through my dry lips. “Don’t apologize. Last night was amazing.”
“You are obviously in pain.” He kisses the side of my neck, surprising me with the dart of his tongue against my skin.
“You gave me fair warning,” I whisper, rolling my head back to give him all the access he desires. “I told you I could handle it. Remember?”
“I do not remember much of what was said. Only the sensations,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my skin as he speaks. “I am also sore, which is a very serious problem. There is no possibility to test stronger morning sperm counts and different positions now. I have also completely negated the need to test how many sessions a day either of us can withstand. The obvious answer is one. That will limit our chances of conception.”
I’m just happy he isn’t calling it off at the first sign of defeat. Oliver doesn’t deal well with failure. At anything.
I pull his arm around me, tugging him closer. “That’s not necessarily true. You said you know how to be gentle. We simply need to begin with gentle intercourse then gradually progress to the rougher stuff.”
He huffs out a frustrated sigh of hot breath against my neck. His hand latches onto my breast, and he squeezes firmly. Judging by the stiff rod poking into my ass, he’s not completely out of commission.
Suddenly, he pulls away and sits up on his side of the bed.
I roll over to find him scrubbing his face with his hands a little too harshly.
“I think I know what the problem is. I require you to remain clothed at all times.”
My grin threatens to split my face in two, much like he nearly did to my Southern hemisphere last night. At least—with his hands still hiding him from sight—he doesn’t have to witness my silent gloating.
“Ollie, are you saying the sight of my naked body makes you lose control?”
“Yes,” he admits with a frustrated grunt. “And I cannot afford to lose control. This is too important. So, you must remain clothed during sexual relations.”
My face is going to be as sore as my lady bits if I don’t stop smiling soon. “How will we have sex if I’m completely clothed? You won’t be able to access the necessary parts.”
He drops his hands to his lap and studies the air. “You make an excellent point. I have seen multiple listings on a number of sites termed crotchless underwear. I will have to purchase several of them for you.”
He’s obviously been on sex toy sites for him to have made the purchases he already did, so I’m not exactly surprised. “Those are a type of lingerie. Have you never seen a woman in lingerie before?”
“I have,” he confesses easily while refusing to glance my way.
I shake off the sting of hurt. “Then, wouldn’t personal experience tell you that the sight of a woman in lingerie also tends to make men lose control?”
His brow furrows. The sight of Ollie pouting is one of my favorite things in the world. A man as sexy as he is shouldn’t be able to also pull off the cute little boy look. “I have never lost control. Not once. A woman in lingerie is not a factor in that very simple equation.”