“Sweetheart, what are you doing?”
“I wanna consummate now.”
I groaned louder and closed my eyes so I could focus for a second. Olive’s small hands landed on my chest and she started to bunch up my shirt. “Off,” she ordered.
“Nothing is coming off,” I said, finally coming to my senses and gently tipping her off my body and back onto the bed. Instead of fighting me on it like I expected her to, she sighed and muttered, “I need it.” Then she started to lift off her own shirt.
I gripped the hem and pulled it down. “Your clothes are staying on too, Olive.”
“But I want it so much, Jason.” She looked at me in the dark, her eyes glazed and her forehead puckered. Her hands let go of the shirt and found their way to my lips, then my cheeks. “I used to love watching you smile,” she whispered, half closing her eyes as if she was imagining our childhood. Her face took on a wistful expression. “I used to look at you when I was sure no one would notice and just wait for it to appear. Your dimple, I mean. It made me so giddy. Will you show it to me, now? Lucy said I should lick it.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Can I?”
Shaking my head, I smiled. “Sweetheart, you are drunk. How about we go to sleep?”
She huffed and punched the mattress lightly. “But I want…”
“What do you want?” I asked distractedly as I brushed away the strands of hair she was trying to blow away from her face.
“I want Jason.” She uttered the words so softly and in such a way that it reminded me of a girl making a birthday wish, eyes closing tightly just before blowing out all the candles. Such an innocent and simple wish, yet all the more powerful to render someone speechless.
Then just like that, a switch went off and her voice turned husky. “I want to come.” Whimpering softly, she lifted her hips off the bed.
“Olive, you have no idea what you’re saying. Let’s go to sleep so you can sober up, okay?”
“Can you give me my toy, Jason who is not Jason? I really need it.” Before I could ask what the hell she was talking about she grabbed my wrist and pushed my hand into her underwear.
Death.
Pure, sweet death.
I was going to burn in flames, both in hell and in life.
I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through it, but it only made matters worse when I inhaled in her scent. Don’t judge me—I did try to pull my hand away, but she was faster than me, and before I could react she flattened her hand over mine.
“I’m soaked,” she moaned as she started to touch herself with my fingers.
“Olive,” I hissed when I felt her wetness all over my fingers. “Olive, please stop.” I tried to pull my hand away, but she held on to my wrist with her free hand to make sure it stayed where it was.
Pushing my forehead against her temple, I whispered. “Olive, you’re killing me, sweetheart. Please, let my hand go.”
God.
Her legs fell open and she pushed one of my fingers firmer against her clit.
Her scent was driving me crazy, her soft panting reaching right down to my dick as if she had her mouth wrapped around me. Pulling my hips back just in case she decided to go for my sweatpants and got ideas because I was hard as a rock, I jerked my hand away from her wetness before she could stop me again and brushed a kiss on her temple.
“You’re still drunk, Olive. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Unexpectedly, she fully turned to me and buried her face against my throat, her weight forcing me to fall on my back. When I felt a wetness on my skin, I held her jaw back and looked at her face.
To my utter shock, she was silently crying.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” I asked, clearing her tears with my thumbs.
Her beautiful eyes met mine and she broke my heart into very, very small pieces. “I just want to consummate so they won’t take him away from me.” She sniffled and hid her face against my neck again.
Jesus. How could she still be drunk off her ass? Exactly what had she had while I was gone, and for how long?
“Baby,” I whispered, trying to calm her down.
I knew this wasn’t my Olive talking, but if she hadn’t been so drunk, we could’ve…hell…done something about this. Talk? Fuck? Whatever she needed.
“Can I have my toy now?” she asked, still sniffling.
Goddamnit!
Maybe she slept with a stuffed toy or something?
I had my fingers crossed, but…
“Is this toy you’re asking for…is it something you use to make yourself come, sweetheart?”
Her tear-filled eyes met mine as she nodded and nibbled on her bottom lip.
There was no way I was going through her stuff to find a plastic dick. There was also no way in hell I was letting myself have her, no matter how much my dick disagreed with me.
“Open your legs, sweetheart,” I whispered finally. If she could have the orgasm she was clearly desperate for, maybe she would go to sleep.
When she let them fall open and got more comfortable on the bed, I lifted her leg and put it in between my thighs, holding her open for me. My hand would be the only thing she would get tonight, but it would be more than enough to satisfy her.
I placed my hand on her stomach and she moaned, arching into my touch. She was killing me—a slow, beautiful death, but a death nonetheless. I whispered encouragements into her ear and she relaxed further into the mattress.
“After you get what you need, you’re going to sleep, okay?”
She nodded readily. I took a deep breath, only to pull her scent in deeper.
Swirling my finger around her clit, I watched her thrash under my touch, moaning and whimpering.
My dick throbbed in my pants, dying to get out and play with her. I closed my eyes and focused on her soft, wet skin. Every now and then, I stopped touching her, dragged my wet fingers up against her stomach, and watched her lift up her hips to have my finger back. I was fascinated by every move she was making.
When I was getting close to losing my mind, I stroked and caressed her faster, my fingers firm against her clit. That seemed to turn her on even more and she moaned louder, begging me for more.
“Shhh, sweetheart. I got you.”
“Jason,” she whispered in between her moans. My name spilling out of her lips was like a caress on my pounding heart.
I moaned next to her ear and watched her body tremble.
“Is this what you needed, baby?” I whispered back.
“Yes. Yes.”
“Good,” I mumbled. I pressed a kiss on her temple.
When her hand reached out and clamped down on my thigh, her fingers digging in so close to my dick, I groaned and watched her lose herself in her orgasm as her cries almost pushed me over the edge, too. She tried to close her legs on me, but I pushed them apart again and kept stroking her until she calmed down and started to whimper sweetly.
Pulling my hand out of her underwear, I brushed another lingering kiss on her temple and let her curl into me as she tried to catch her breath. Soon, her breathing evened out and she fell asleep in my arms.
It had been a long time since I’d felt the way Olive was making me feel—if there had ever been a time...
I’d missed something. I’d missed what was happening between us. She wasn’t Dylan’s sister in my eyes any more. She was my little one, just like the very first day we’d met. And now she was my wife.