Even when I'm gone

Ollie tucked the hair behind my ears and pressed his forehead to mine, hovering his perfect lips so close, I could taste the mint from his gum. His fingers skimmed down the length of my arms.

“The only way to cheat death is by creating a love that will last forever,” Ollie whispered. My lashes parted, and we locked eyes. “That’s what I wrote.”

Ollie’s eyes dropped to my mouth.

My pulse skipped.

He wet his lips.

I held my breath.

His fingers traced the edge of my panties.

Lower. Closer. “Breathe, Mia,” he whispered.

My chest let go.

He moved my panties to the side.

The foretaste controlled my senses.

And his finger skimmed through my center.

My need for him exploded, and my hand wandered, reaching for him.

Ollie snatched my hand in his free one and squeezed. “Look at me,” he demanded and pushed two fingers inside. A moan left me. Ollie let go of my hand and grabbed the back of my neck to keep me steady. He stroked his melodic fingers inside, and my sex tightened around them. “I can’t,” I rasped out, fighting to stand but weakening by every torturous second as he scraped his thumb against my clit, and my legs shook in response.

“I have you,” Ollie rolled his forehead over mine. “I’m not going to let you go.”

All it took was two more sensual thrusts of his fingers, and one more scrape of his thumb. My knees buckled, and Ollie scooped me up in one arm with his fingers never leaving their post. He kissed along my jawline, down my neck, and back up until his mouth covered mine. My sex clenched around his fingers, pulsating to the beat of my climax and Ollie refused to withdraw until I’d ultimately came undone and pieced back together.

After he pulled out of me, he slid his fingers between his lips with a smug grin.

“What about you?” I asked, cheeks still heated, and my breathing was begging to return to normal.

He fixed my panties and pulled me over the mattress. “Oh, you think that was for you?”

We made out like two crazed teens until our eyes grew heavy.

Ollie laid his head over my chest, and I dragged my fingers through his hair.

“Mia?”

“Yeah?”

He tilted his head up to look at me. “I’m the crack to your arse?”

I laughed. “Forget I ever said that.”

“I wish I could, love,” he laid back over my chest and wrapped his arm around me. “I really wish I could.”