Olivia hurries to the end of the hall and takes the stairs one floor so no one will see her all dressed up. She taps the keycard nervously on the brass banister as it takes her to the top floor. Outside the room, it feels like she should knock. Instead the card beeps softly in the lock and with a small click swings open in her hand.
It’s a suite, of course. Her first thought is that it’s very white. Off-white, actually. Carpet, deep couches. She walks into the living room where floor-to-ceiling windows look out over Manhattan. It’s nearly Christmas and the city is lit up like a galaxy of stars. There’s a silver champagne bucket nearby, glistening with condensation from the ice inside, but it’s missing a bottle. A dark, polished table big enough for eight sits to her right, topped with a vase of white lilies.
Just like the one Max gave her on her birthday.
“Wheeewww,” he whistles, softly and low. He’s leaning against the door frame to what must be the bedroom, but the light is off behind him. Max is wearing a black button down shirt and dark gray slacks. He didn’t bother to shave after the game. Olivia shudders slightly as she physically remembers the gentle abrasion of his stubble on her skin when they kissed. He looks deadly – expensive, dangerous. And he’s holding the bottle of champagne.
He fills both of the flutes hanging between his fingers and passes one to her, then taps them together with a gentle tink. The bubbles in her mouth mimic the butterflies in her stomach. She doesn’t know what to say. Maybe she doesn’t have to.
I knew she would come. I waited until she’d let herself in and looked around, waited until I couldn’t wait any longer. She stands in the living room, taking in the view, and I watch her. I see the shape of her body differently, knowing what is under that dress. I see her wrist, fair and pale as it should be where the last traces of my handprint have faded. She touches her hair, the slightest hint of nervousness. Everything about her seems different, sharper, like I’ve only seen her before in half-tones. Tonight she’s in full color.
Truth be told, I’m nervous too. I booked the room on the way back from the game, hoping they’d have something special I could give her tonight. It has to be like this, and it has to be now. I didn’t want this in the same old hotel rooms we stay in a hundred times a year.
I don’t know what to say as I feel the carbonation from the champagne bubble straight into my bloodstream. So I take the glass from her hand, set it on the table, and kiss her.
She walks right into the kiss, coming to me. It feels like affirmation – I’ve been pulling and dragging her closer for months, now she’s giving herself over. As her hands slide across my back and her body presses to mine, I think that it should always have been this, will always be this.
My nervousness evaporates. She no longer seems apprehensive either. Instead we move together into the bedroom. I’ve already done the lighting – the bedside lamps are a soft glow and I know right where the button is. We stand kissing in the low light, savoring the anticipation, until I can’t stop my hands. They’re sliding up her back, coming back down slowly with the zipper of her dress. She draws the straps from her shoulders and it parachutes to the floor. Her black lace is scandalous and I realize that seeing her body before, when she wanted help, is nothing compared to seeing it now, when all she wants is me.
The fabric is delicate beneath my fingertips. Every touch of my hands translates itself to my sensitive areas below. I feel the whorls of texture at her hips; where the lace runs out over her ass the sudden feel of her bare flesh is a silky surprise. I draw my hands up, slowly taking in the arch of her back. My mouth moves down her neck into the flesh I’m pressing upward in its cups. She runs her hand into my hair as I take my fill from her sweet skin. The smell of honeysuckle comes from every inch of her.
Olivia opens the buttons on my shirt. She etches her fingers along the lines of my tattoo with agonizing slowness, like she’s going to draw it later from memory. Only when she’s finally done does my shirt hit the carpet. The back of her fingers drift down my chest. I’m looking at her eyes, she’s looking at my body. When she reaches my waist, she doesn’t hesitate, just opens and carefully lifts both pants and shorts away from my throbbing erection. I step out of my shoes, smiling to myself. No socks. There’s no sexy way to take them off.
Finally it’s too much – my hand on her hip guides her onto the bed. She lies back slowly, watching me move. As I hover above, mere inches separating our bodies, she lifts her mouth to mine in a sure, solid kiss. It’s her way of telling me she knows. I return the sentiment, then balance on one knee and tug her panties past her hips and all the way down over her feet. I was desperately to kiss the snowflake tattoo behind her ankle, to taste the milky inside of her thigh. But that’s too optimistic.
My body has been tightening like a screw since first intermission. Her kiss was the first twist. Her words were the second. As my mind ran circles for the next few hours, the screw wound itself in my gut. When she walked into this room it hit bottom. Since then it’s been splintering inside me.
I stretch myself on top of her, sucking in a breath as my hard cock nestles itself against her groove. Her hot wetness kisses my head. She runs her fingers down my bare back, sprinkling goosebumps across my skin. Her other hand grazes my scruffy cheek. I shift my weight and with it the tip of my penis slides infinitely closer to being one with her body. She draws a shallow breath.
“I love you,” I whisper the first thing I’ve said since she arrived.
I slide inside her. No touching, no teasing. Every encounter for months has been our foreplay. My cock delves into her slick folds like a key into a lock. I close my eyes against the intense sensation, willing myself to keep control. She lets out a soft, short sob as her body takes me in. My mind goes blank for a second at the sound of her pleasure. Slowly I move my hips, drawing myself from her hot depths like a cork before pressing back up into her body. She makes the noise again, her stomach muscles fluttering in encouragement. I move again, her hot juices coating me until I move with ease inside her. First slowly, then with more strength. She puts her hands behind my shoulders and uses my weight for leverage. Sliding against the comforter, she moves with me.
Time has stopped. Olivia feels everything like she’s accessing more than the 10% of her brain that average humans use. Max’s body radiates heat that makes her muscles want to relax, but her whole body is tense from the things he’s doing inside her. Her eyes close themselves as he rolls his hips deeply, tearing away the vision of him floating above her.
“Max,” she breathes.
He says something in French and she feels the meaning rather than understanding it. He’s been waiting. He’s been patient when she couldn’t, honest when she wasn’t, constant when she hasn’t. Olivia almost laughs. All the things she worried about, things she thought she couldn’t know about someone without completely giving in to them – she already knows them about Max. He’s already proven to be everything she needs. She was just too blind to see it.
Now. Now he’s here.
Olivia feels better than I could have imagined. For months I have kept myself in check, always holding part of my fantasy back in case it never came true. Yes, I have loved her before tonight. But this is more.
My cock fits inside her like I’m sliding on a glove. Her long, smooth calf runs along the length of mine before she hooks her ankle over my foot. I tug her bottom lip between my teeth, catching my breath before returning the kiss to her mouth. The taste of toothpaste on her tongue turns me on immensely – like her carefully chosen dress and lingerie – she wanted this as much as I did. Finally.
Her fingers trace down my spine, then past my hips before pressing into my ass. I meet her eyes and it’s there too: harder. We’ve been moving gently, exploring each other and thinking, coming to terms with what we’ve become. My body is saying the same thing; it’s time for this to happen.
I slide my hands under her bottom and lift her off the mattress. She arches her back, placing herself firmly into my lap. The new angle gives me a beautiful view of her body – I smooth one palm over her stomach and up across the lace cup of her bra. My thumb brushes her cheek and she smiles as she turns to kiss it. When she does, I push.
The trust finds her g-spot, right where I hoped it would be. I go just hard enough to touch it, but not call the elevator just yet. I swivel, moving her hips with my hands, and feel the soft, silky inside of her body twist its friction along the length of my shaft. My dick gets harder and it’s time to turn this up a notch.
“Olivia, I want to hold you.”
She stills as I pull out and slide up the bed. I settle against the headboard, sitting up, and she takes my hand as she crawls close. Her feet go behind me, legs wrapped around my middle. She presses her heels down as I lift her ass. It takes every ounce of my strength not to drop her straight onto me and bottom out inside her. Instead I move lightly, sliding her trembling pussy slowly over my cock until I’m in up to the hilt. Her breasts are pressed to my chest, her face before mine. I grip the small of her back as she uses her feet for leverage and rocks up and down in my lap.
On her first stroke, we both gasp. I can feel every part of her – soft skin of her legs, muscles of her ass, heave of her breast. Her clit presses against my lower stomach and she grinds into it every time she moves. She nips at my earlobe, sucking it lightly between her teeth, before licking the patch of skin just behind it. Despite the heat we’re creating, I shiver.
“You feel incredible,” she whispers.
I cup my hands beneath her and help her to rise and fall. She handles the motion, twisting her hips so every inch of my dick gets a delicious kiss from her slick walls. We move more quickly now, pressure building incrementally every time her ass bounces against me. The lace of her bra brushes my nipples, a dizzying contrast to the smoothness of the part of her that engulfs me.
I lift my hips to meet her downswing and she sobs. I grunt in pleasure and do it again. She claws her nails into my shoulder. I take that as a request and give her an encore. Her juices run hot onto my thighs. My lips catch hers and I get dizzy from shortness of breath.
Olivia puts a hand behind her. My eyes sweep down her body to where I can see my cock disappearing inside her body. She uses her arm to steady herself as she forces her clit against me on every thrust. I slide a thumb down her stomach and tweak her swollen hot spot gently.
“Aaahhhh,” she stammers, nodding. I press back and forth, feeling tension rise through her legs and clench her back muscles in my hand. I see her arm straining under her weight. My thumb presses down and then up, and again. And again. She bites her lips, eyes closed, and I desperately want to make her come. I slide my first two fingers down and catch her hard nub between then, tugging to one side then the other. She moans and I pull harder.
“Max,” she gulps. She’s so wet it’s hard for my fingers to get hold.
“Give in to me, Olivia. Let me have you,” I say as I change to lateral motion and her body trembles. “I want to give you everything.”
Her back arm flies up to grip my neck as her orgasm breaks in my hand. She moans low, pressing her face to the side of my head. Her body clenches, then falls. Her back rolls, abs fluttering, as the tremor rips through her body. Again her pussy grabs at me, triggering another wave. On the third time, she draws a slow, ragged breath as her shoulders round and her chest heaves. Her lips find mine and she kisses me like I’m more important than oxygen.
I reach into her hair and pull down, tilting her head back to expose her neck. I kiss along it as I lift up to my knees and tip her body down onto the bed. I’m so hard it hurts. I’ve been waiting for this so long.
Olivia goes down under me. Still inside her, blood floods to my penis and I see stars. She lifts her hips to meet mine and the depth of my thrust threatens to make me lose consciousness. Deep breaths draw themselves as a few more strokes work me to the top of the ladder.
“I love you, Max,” she answers the first thing I said tonight.
The sound that comes out of me is not a word, it’s more like cry. Every synapse in my brain fires at once, like I’m looking directly into the sun. That fire flies outward, burning through every vein and erupting through my cock. My hot come flows into Olivia. She purrs encouragement.
“Mon dieu,” I manage as my second load spurts inside her. She pulls my ass in, making sure I’m fitted to the top as my body gives her one more burst. When I’m empty, I lay motionless.
“Are you the kind of guy who falls asleep right after?” she laughs when a few silent minutes have passed.
I lift my head, vision a little blurry, and smile at her.
“Kitten, I will keep you up all night long. Nap while you can.” I collapse again as her giggle vibrates beneath my body.
In the morning, I wake first. She’s curled against me, head on my chest and hand splayed over my hip. I lift the blanket and allow myself a peek at her bare skin. She still smells like flowers and her silken hair is tossed over my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head and lay back, savoring the warmth of my victory. My body stirs scandalously.
Olivia moves a short while later, rolling onto her back and stretching like a cat. She pulls back in and runs her hand down my stomach before opening her eyes.
“Morning, love,” I say. The night was magical but nothing has changed. I love her, she loves me and I will not let that go unsaid for even a moment.
“Morning, love,” she smiles and kisses my nipple.
I’m on top of her before she can say another word. Her bra is gone and I take my mouth to her breast. She gropes at me as my hand finds the space between her legs and revisits the scene of last night’s excitement. It doesn’t take long before she’s wet again.
I slide inside her, looking down into her eyes. Her makeup is a little smudged, her hair tangled, and she’s even more beautiful than ever. She draws in a breath and wiggles herself down onto my erection. Now I have her where I want her.
“Olivia,” I say softly. “This is us now. No more worrying, no more waiting.”
I stroke my cock deeply, slowly, to accentuate my words. The last time I made a possessive gesture I hurt and almost lost her. This way is much gentler, intensely more pleasurable, but I have the same intentions.
“Please don’t fight me anymore,” I say. Her bark blue eyes never leave mine, never waver.
“I’m yours, Max. All yours. Thank you for still wanting me,” she replies, her voice catching a little at the end.
“I have always wanted you. I will always want you,” I tell her truthfully.
We are slow and gentle with each other in the light of day. When she reaches her peak, a small cry shudders from her lips. I bury my head into the pillow as I come, she nips at my neck as my warmth spills inside her.
Olivia kisses me and smiles, saying nothing as I drift back to sleep.