Broken Hero

I nod. The words feel too dirty, too harsh to say, but he just lifts an eyebrow. “Do you want me to fuck you hard?”

“Yes.”God yes.

Something snaps in him. He grips my hips and lifts me off of him, placing me between his legs. Strong hands unzip my dress and it falls, discarded, to my feet. “Take your bra off.”

I reach back and undo the clasp. I’m left standing there in front of him in only my underwear. His gaze is devouring me, inch by inch, searing my skin. He hooks a finger around the lace trim of my panties.

“I’ve wanted you since I first saw you.”

“So have me.”

He pulls my panties down and bares me to his gaze. Doubt flickers through my mind for a moment as he watches in silence-I shouldn’t have turned on the lights-but then he groans and the sound sends shivers across my skin.

“Fuck, Luce… you’re so sweet.”

Who would have known? Who would have known that this usually taciturn man could make me throb with need, using only his words? That his hands sliding up my inner thighs made me want to weep, or that his hot breath against my pussy felt like heaven?

Oliver tugs me forward and then he kisses me, there. Fingers part me and his tongue leaves fire in its wake, making my nipples harden in response.

His tongue finds my clit, right there, oh yes, and I have to put a hand on his shoulder to steady myself. There is nothing in the world but this.

I can’t think, can’t see. All my senses are focused on the strong expanse of his back and his tousled blonde hair and the heat of his mouth on me.

He wraps an arm around the back of my legs, the other finding my hips, as he continues to use his tongue. The message is clear.

Fall. I’ll catch you.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

So I do. I let myself fall apart under his tongue like I never have before. Pleasure builds and crests until I’m nothing but an instrument, one he’s playing to perfection.

“Oliver…” I slide my hand into his thick hair as he flicks his tongue back and forth. He gently slides a finger inside of me, and it’s too much. I need him. I need this.

“Oh my god. I can’t-please. Don’t stop.”

He doesn’t.

He drives me into oblivion, until I’m coming hard and so strong that I would have toppled over if it wasn’t for his strength. I’m shaking as my muscles clench around his finger.

Oliver gives me a final lick and leans back, his look one of pure satisfaction. I watch him through my afterglow, thinking that I would do absolutely anything he asked of me right now.

The feeling is overwhelming.

“Whoa,” I tell him. “That was… wow.”

He stands and hoists me up as if I weighed nothing. “Your pussy is perfect,” he murmurs in my ear, carrying me to the bed. “It’s mine now.”

Well, I can’t argue with that. With the way he touched me, I can’t imagine it belonging to anyone else. He sets me down on the bed, but I rise up on my elbows immediately.

“Off,” I tell him, motioning to his jeans with my hand. “We need those off.”

Oliver grins at my impatience and it nearly kills me. He rarely smiles, but when he does, it takes my breath away. I want to make him smile like that over and over again.

He finishes what I began earlier, unbuckling his belt with deft hands and sliding his jeans off. When he tugs his boxers down, my throat goes dry.

I had felt it, sure, but seeing it… He’s big. He’s also perfect. I’ve never felt like this before-this intense desire to be claimed, to be his, to have all of that inside me. I want to worship at his feet and I want to make him worship at mine.

Oliver pulls out a condom and rolls it on with ease. His body is taut, golden from the sun, chiseled in the rough way that only men who use their body for work are. I doubt I’ve ever seen a man more masculine.

“Scoot back,” he murmurs, and I oblige. He climbs onto the bed and kneels between my legs. Strong hands find my knees and spreads me open, his eyes locked on mine. I see the question in them, clear even through the haze of lust. This isn’t going to be gentle, and it’s going to be fast, and it’s going to change things.

Do I want that?

Yes. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I need to feel him inside of me.

“Oliver,” I breathe.

He pushes into me with a tortuously slow movement, stretching me, and it’s too much. His low groan echoes my own.

He pauses, buried inside me, and bends down to kiss me. The feeling is nearly unbearable. I’m so incredibly full, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t give us both the friction we need. He runs a hand up my thigh and flicks a thumb against my clit.

My hands fist the sheets. “Please.”

“I think I like it when you beg,” he murmurs against my lips. Still, he doesn’t move. The ache inside me is shifting into a dull, steady throbbing. I need him to move. I need him.

I wrap my legs around his waist, running a hand down his back. “Please, Oliver.”

His lips travel to my ear, the faint scruff of his beard against my skin. “Please what?”

The bastard, he’s forcing me to say it-he already knows I want him. My hand traces something ridged along his shoulder blade.

I press closer. “Fuck me,” I murmur. “Please.”

He does.

Oh, he does.

Oliver moves with a graceful power that takes my breath away. He rolls his hips and eases out slowly, only to thrust back entirely in one swift stroke. The bed beneath us moves with every movement. All I can do is hold on to him, grasp him as he claims me-just like he said he would.

All concept of time and space has left me. There’s only this, his body moving inside of me, his warm skin against mine. The wide planes of his chest and the tickle of his happy trail against my stomach.

“Come for me,” Oliver demands. He has my hands grasped above my head, his hips rolling so that he hits my clit with every thrust. “I want to feel you clench around me.”

Oh my God.

Can I?

I’m not sure I can.

But his steady movements are too much for any woman to bear. Under his command, the dark gaze and the magnificence of his body, I break apart once again. My lips form his name over and over again, asking him to come too.