“The painting that used to hang over my bed that fell on my head in the middle of the night from all the pounding you were doing over here says otherwise,” I mutter.
His expression grows more severe. “I am very good at following directions. I apologize that you felt inadvertent consequences of my obedience. I was unaware that was the case. How many times have I hurt you unintentionally?”
“Every time,” I admit on a whisper.
He finally glances at me with a deep frown. His gaze sweeps my nakedness from breasts to where the sheets are barely covering me from the waist down. His voice is a bitter growl in the back of his throat. “Then, I cannot afford to hurt you a single time more. In the interests of achieving that goal, please cover yourself. To be clear, put some clothes on.”
As tickled pink as I am over so many things, his request is a potent reminder that we have much harder work to accomplish than knocking me up by Thanksgiving. I allowed him to maintain his pride during the two years we shared an apartment as roommates, but things are different now. I can’t let him hide from me anymore in the same way he protects himself from everyone else. I have to make him understand I want far more from him than just his sculpted body, his magnificently skilled dick, and his super sperm. I want the whole, blindingly brilliant package. “No, Ollie. I don’t think I will.”
His gaze shoots to my face, his nostrils flared. “Are you trying to purposely provoke me to take you again, violently and against your will?”
I’m not necessarily opposed to that even as sore as I am, but that’s not the point I’m trying to delicately make. “You didn’t take me against my will, so I want you to promise me you’ll stop beating yourself up over that. Promise me right now, Oliver. You want me to be happy, and that will make me very happy.”
“Fine,” he grumbles. “I promise.”
That issue out of the way, I stretch and yawn and purposefully give myself up to his gaze that darts more often in my direction. “Good. It’s almost nine o’clock. You’re behind schedule. Go about your morning routine as you normally would. My Saturday routine is to lounge in bed all day, so I’m going to do exactly that.”
“You do not lounge naked in bed on Saturdays,” he bites out.
He would know. He’s barged into my room on quite a few occasions to try to drag me out of bed with promises of something fun to do together. I mostly declined on account of his not being mine to change my plans for. It was much easier to hide under the covers than to pretend our friendship meant more to him than what I believed it did.
“I do after a night of amazing sex,” I inform him.
“You were the one who insisted we not bring up past bed partners.” He’s pouting even harder. So precious. “I would very much appreciate if you could actually stick to that agreement.”
“You’re the best I’ve ever had,” I say to soothe his bruised pride, ignoring all the ways he hasn’t held up his end of that deal. I’m not lying. At all. No one has ever been Oliver in all his multi-faceted glory. “We’re going to live together for the next two months. That’s nothing we haven’t done before, but Ollie? Living together, engaging in sex, and purposefully trying to make a baby are all very different things. If we’re going to become parents to the same child, then we can’t have any secrets between us anymore. We have to be open and honest with each other.”
“I am one minute and approximately sixteen seconds from rolling you onto your stomach and plunging myself into whichever hole I find first,” he blurts.
A shudder of morbid anticipation rolls through me. Multiple men have begged for backdoor entrance, but I’ve never been keen on obliging. Until now. I’m not sure how accurate the timetable is, but the tent he’s creating with the sheets doesn’t lie. “Why is the time approximate? Why that specific position? Do you prefer anal penetration over vaginal?”
He responds immediately, but his voice is still unnaturally growly. For Ollie. “Approximate because your responses hold the power of either distracting me or focusing my attention on my baser desires. We have not yet attempted a rear-entry position, but it is consistently listed as one which increases chances of conception due to its inherent allowable depth of penetration. Also, I do not wish to learn what your morning breath smells like. I have never attempted anal penetration due to the lengthy time of preparation necessary to make it comfortable for the receiving partner. I do not typically engage in sex with a partner long-term, therefore I have no basis for comparison to answer your question about which type of penetration I prefer.”
I’m playing with fire, but I roll onto my stomach. Maybe wiggle my ass a little for good measure, though it’s still covered by the sheets. I console myself with the idea that he won’t be exposed to my heinous morning breath this way. There are some hard limits that I’m more than willing to respect. “Please enlighten me on the long-term preparation necessary for anal penetration. I have never researched the topic before.”
He darts his glance to me for the briefest second before returning his eyes to the air in front of him, which means he’s still firmly in control of himself. “Contrary to popular cultural beliefs, one cannot simply penetrate the anus with even a less than average male sexual appendage without deliberate, measured preparation. To do so would likely result in tearing of the much thinner tissue of the rectum as opposed to the vagina or mouth, which are built to withstand an inward thrust of pressure and movement. Ideally, the progression of sexual acts should begin with light massage of the area, followed by insertion of a single, much less girthy diameter of a digit that is well lubricated, then slowly progressing to multiple fingers or toys with successful pleasure before ending in penile or likewise anal penetration.”
As expected, he’s thoroughly researched the topic. It’s a shameless boost for my self-esteem, but I plow through with my plans anyway. Even if we’ve gone a bit off topic. “You exhibit clear interest in anal penetration. I don’t understand why you’ve never followed through with your intent. It’s unlike you. You’re almost thirty, and you’ve had plenty of opportunity with more than willing women, I’m sure.”
An utterly animalistic noise erupts from his throat before he makes good on his warning. He roughly rolls me onto my stomach then hauls my hips into the air. “Do you want me to fuck your ass without any lube? Do you want me to tear your pretty little asshole to shreds with my cock?”
An electric shiver runs down my spine. In my wildest dreams, I never would have guessed Oliver had the ability to be a dirty talker. Is there anything this man can’t do? It takes every ounce of my will power to maintain focus. “No. I want you to begin my long-term preparations and to commence with your practice run of utilizing stronger sperm counts in the morning along with a deep penetration sexual position.”
Another growl then he magically produces the wedge-shaped pillow he purchased, stuffing it beneath me as a prop. A cold drizzle of liquid slides down my crack to my center, making his intentions obvious.
He leans down over me, whispering in my ear, “I’m going to fuck you so hard that you will finally have a good reason not to get out of bed for the rest of the day.”