“How much older?”
She lifted her head to look at me, and the movement had us sitting nose to nose. A jolt ran through me, and I inched closer. Because I’m a bastard. Because I’m selfish. Because I wanted those lips to be mine, and those eyes to be mine, and that voice to only be heard by me—even if it was only for one night.
“Older than me,” she whispered, her nose brushing against mine. “Older than you.” I reared back, taking a quick moment to glance around, as adrenaline at the possibility of getting caught coursed through me. I berated myself for a moment—a quick, fleeting moment—that got lost as soon as I looked back into her eyes.
“Do you like older guys?” I whispered, my lips feathering over hers.
Her eyes flashed. “I like some.”
“Yeah?” I asked, plucking at her bottom lip with my teeth.
“Yeah,” she said breathily.
“Do you think he’s the one?” I asked in a whisper, planting a kiss on the edge of her lips.
“No,” she said, repeating my movement and dropping a kiss on the edge of mine.
“Have you ever been in love, Estelle?” I asked quietly, backing away slightly to search her wide eyes.
“Have you?” she whispered, staring at me, waiting.
“I . . .” I didn’t know what to say, and before I could say anything at all, boisterous voices came from behind us, and we inched away quickly. We turned to see some guys cheering on another as he chugged his beer. The crowd cheered and hollered, but died down quickly, and we looked at each other again.
“I really want you to kiss me,” she said, bringing her eyes to mine.
If possible, my heart spiked harder against my chest. I dipped my head until we were nose to nose. “I really want to kiss you again.”
“I want you to do more than kiss me this time.”
I held my breath. “Estelle . . .”
“Please.”
I closed my eyes at her plea. I took that moment to tune out the loud party and focus on why this couldn’t happen. Victor is your best friend, and you promised you’d take care of her, not hurt her. He will kill you. He’s your brother. How would you feel if he did this to Sophie?
But then I felt Estelle get even closer to me. I felt her soft breath over my ear, and as her hand reached down between us and settled right over my dick, I couldn’t breathe, let alone think.
“I want you, Oliver,” she whispered. My eyes popped open in a flash and when I looked at her, I knew I couldn’t deny her even if I wanted to. Even if I should.
She stood, grabbing my hand and started to walk toward the cottage. I looked over my shoulder to make sure nobody saw us. My eyes scanned the party and looked for Vic specifically, but I never found him. Then I felt like an asshole for doing that. I was about to disappear into a room with his little sister, and I was making sure he didn’t see us. I was supposed to protect her from the big bad wolf, yet here I was, feeling like a wolf myself. But I couldn’t help it. I didn’t see red lights when it came to Elle, I only saw green and go, and felt things that made me want to be a better man for her, even though I knew I couldn’t.
The door opened and closed behind us. As soon as we faced the other, she jumped on me, wrapping her legs around my waist and throwing her arms around my neck as she smashed her lips to mine. I held her, grabbing her ass as I plunged my tongue inside her mouth. I couldn’t help but moan when she bit it lightly, sucking it in and out of her mouth. I set her on her feet only to let her take my shirt off. Her eyes blazed as she looked at me, from my face down to my torso. Her small fingers touched every line I had, leaving a trail of fire behind every spot she touched.
“You’re ticklish,” she said, looking up at me in wonder.
I wasn’t, not really, but when she touched me like that, my muscles contracted, so I shrugged and let her think I was. I didn’t want to rush her, so I let her undress me completely. I let her take the lead and decide what came next.
“You’re beautiful,” she breathed, as I stood naked in front of her. Her hand reached out and grasped my cock, and it jumped. I groaned, biting my lip and throwing my head back, asking all the gods to please give me enough control not to come in her hands as she stroked me. Finally, my control broke, and I stepped forward, reaching for the hem of her shirt. I waited, watching as she nodded for me to take it off. I did, then stayed fixated on her bare chest. I’d pictured what she looked like a million times, and none of those did the reality justice. She was just . . . perfect. I unzipped her skirt and let it pool at her feet around the strappy heels she wore. Then I dipped my head and kissed her—a slow, leisurely kiss that deepened as my hands trailed down her body. My lips left hers and made their way down to her neck, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts . . . then I pulled each nipple into my mouth. She grabbed onto my hair with a deep moan of encouragement, so I continued plucking kisses down her body, and over her panties, which I pulled down with my teeth. I pushed them down her calves and then her feet, where I unstrapped each shoe and helped her step out.
I was still on my knees, making my way back up when a surge of desire hit me like a ten-foot wave. I stopped and looked into her eyes when I reached the inside of her thighs to push them apart. She watched me in rapt attention, as if I was some sort of beautiful puzzle she had to figure out.
“Bed?” I asked as my hands stroked her thighs softly. She nodded, lips parted, those multi-colored eyes glazed over. I stood and carried her to the bed like a bride. Neither of us spoke as I moved down her body again, my mouth kissing her, teasing her, communicating how much I wanted her. Her body thrashed against the bed . . . against my wet lips . . . and she pulled my hair as she said my name over, and over. Oliver, oh, Oliver. I’d never heard such a beautiful melody.
My fingers replaced my mouth as I moved back to her breasts, tweaking her nipples, and squeezing them lightly.
“So good,” she whimpered in a pant, and I smiled. I wanted to make her feel good. I positioned myself between her legs and paused. I never paused. I always looked for a condom, put it on and continued. I never paused and wondered if I could possibly get away with no condom. I never paused and wished that there would be no barrier between us. But this was Elle. My Elle.
Her hands moved down my chest and to my cock, where she squeezed again. “I’m on the pill,” she said quietly.
“Do you do this often? No condom?” I asked, matching her tone. My heart was tripping over itself in anticipation. Why had I asked that question? Did it matter? Since when did I care what my lovers did with other partners?
She shook her head. “Never.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Never. I felt high. I could give her something she’d never had. I wasn’t the one who took her virginity. I wasn’t the one who’d had the pleasure of her first kiss—but this, I could give her. I bent lower and teased her folds with my cock.
“Please, Oliver,” she said, doing a shimmy below me. “Please.”
I dipped my head and kissed her again, letting her taste herself on my lips, moaning when she pulled my hair to bring me closer. “We’ll go slow,” I whispered against her.
“No. I don’t want slow,” she said, her eyes wide. She moved her hips up. I grinned.
“I want slow,” I said, pushing myself inside her with one deep thrust. Her body bowed off the bed with a yelp. I pulled back, and she sighed, I pushed back in, she yelped again. “You still want it fast?” I asked, groaning when she clenched around me.
“I still want fast,” she panted, meeting my thrusts. I pulled out completely, then pushed back in slowly, and smiled when she growled at me. My thrusts were long and hard. I relished the way she felt around me. I tried to absorb her heat, her wetness—everything I could—so I took my time. I took my time until she trailed her hand down her flat stomach to the spot where our bodies were joined and began to rub, and then I lost it. I lifted her leg and started to move—really move. She screamed my name, I groaned out hers. She clawed at me, and it made me move faster. Then she started whimpering Oliver, Oliver, I can’t, I can’t, as her head swayed side to side and her eyes rolled back. I pulled out of her, and she gasped, and looked like she was going to kill me, so I scooted back and sat down, picking her up and positioning her over my hips. We never lost eye contact, and when she took me in and started to move, I was a goner.
The way her eyes searched mine said, do you feel this? Can you feel it too? Am I making this up? The words were never verbalized. They were spoken with our tongues against the other’s. Are you still searching? Do you still believe someone else is better for you? My hands framed her face as hers did mine, and we held each other there as she reached the brink of her orgasm. I fell right behind her. It was slow at first, then all consuming and powerful. We looked at each other as we caught our breaths, still searching . . . questioning . . . wondering things we didn’t dare ask.