Page 9 of Depths of Desire (The Saints of Westmont U #4)

Thrusting my hips up, I pressed my hard cock against his face, and Oliver parted his lips around it, wetting the fabric of my underwear.

To be perfectly honest, my underwear was bound to be soaked already, and I had a suspicion that Oliver knew that.

His tongue pressed hard against the tip of my cock and pressed my ass harder, lifting me off the back.

His fingers slipped up, yanking the waistband of my underwear in one smooth motion.

That was the word for Oliver. Smooth. Everything he did was like that, from the first nosedive I saw him perform at the community pool to the careful way his gaze swept over the cabin upon entering to the ease with which he undressed me.

My underwear slipped over my cock, and he pulled the briefs down to my ankles, returning to his previous positions as soon as I untangled my feet free. He didn’t wait, and the impatience turned me on more than any careful foreplay could have.

Oliver’s lips caressed my inner thigh, tickling me into madness worthy of a Hellenic tragedy. He teased me as he moved up and buried his face in my groin, devouring me in the strangest ways. His fingers wrapped around my throbbing dick and I could sweat the fucked let out a soft chuckle.

In response, I pressed my head against the back of his head and forced his face deeper between my legs.

My balls settled down the bridge of his nose, and he moved his lips madly against my taint, slowly dragging his hand along my cock, tormenting me with just enough intensity to the thrusts to make me crave more.

When I relaxed my hand on his head, he lifted it and wrapped his lips around the precum-slick tip of my dick, taking me into his mouth in one brave swing of his head.

It ruptured something in my chest. It freed my heart to grow larger and lighter until it wanted to float away from me, from the cabin, from the Milky Way.

I heard myself cry for God, for more, and for Oliver. I heard the moans ripping free from me and filling the snow-blanketed house.

The light of the fireplace danced along the wood-paneled walls as Oliver bobbed his head up and down, rubbing the roof of his mouth against my aching cock on purpose.

My voice rose, stretching the definition of a moan, as Oliver pulled his head back and angled my cock away from me, then dipped down and took me into his throat. Fuck, but he was good at this. And no, it wasn’t jealousy that raced through me when I realized that. It just couldn’t be.

He lifted his head and let my dick fall with a wet slap against my body. “Don’t want this to end too soon,” he said.

“Make it last,” I said, my voice distant, like an echo in a dream. Make it hard. Make us work for it . I guided his hand away from my thigh and under my balls, letting him feel the warmth of my hole.

“You better have some supplies in that duffel,” Oliver said. “I didn’t bring any.”

“Always do,” I told him, my throat closing hard on the last word as he thrust his hand forward and applied sudden pressure on me. I could feel the pleasure spilling through me, welling into my skull, filling my eyes.

“Mm, emergency kit,” Oliver observed. “Do you want to use it?”

“Hell yeah,” I said, out of breath and out of my mind. “Can’t let it go to waste.” I got out of bed, dizzy with all the testosterone rushing into my bloodstream. I rummaged through the side pocket of my duffel and produced the goods, then tossed them onto the bed before returning.

Oliver lay on his side when I joined him, lying down so I could face him. He slipped his left arm around my waist and pulled me in, kissing me while my scent still lingered on his lips.

It was my time to shine. I leaned into him, rolling him onto his back, and did all that he had done to me, hoping it would drive him at least half as crazy.

He slipped his hands under his head and watched, firelight dancing over his sharp cheekbones and perfect nose, eyes glowing with the flickering light. He must have tensed his muscles for me. I had never felt anything so hard under my lips.

As I moved down, feeling the hills and valleys of his body, I felt his thick cock under my chin, pulsing once as I reached it.

My greedy fingers curled under the waistband of his boxer briefs and lifted it over his cock, yanking the fabric down his legs just enough to bare his crotch.

Unlike me, with my happy trail and cropped pubes and legs covered in fine, pale hair, Oliver was all smooth. A swimmer cliche, perhaps, but one I longed to feel under my lips and fingertips in its entirety. The velvety feel of his skin didn’t feel like he’d shaved.

I put the questions well out of my mind as I pressed my lips against the base of his cock and moved them along its length.

He tasted like sweet and salty cream, all soft with a zing I couldn’t put into words.

The mixture of scented soap and the natural muskiness of his body lit fire inside my chest as I took him deep into my mouth.

I had a few tricks, too, and I’d been with guys before. Let him think about that. Where could I have possibly learned to do this? Let it fluster him.

My throat relaxed quickly by the sheer force of will and a little bit of practiced technique.

I took him deep in, my lips stretching down to reach his flesh and failing.

He was just a little too big for me now, but it was something to look forward to.

Perhaps if he let me lie on my back, head hanging over the edge, we could make magic together, but I was too desperate to offer new ideas.

I sped up, sucking him harder so he would see just how maddening it could be to be held on the edge.

And by the sheer rigidness of his dick, I could tell it was working.

His grunts and little moans were further proof.

But my victory came when he let out a growl and pulled his hips deeper down into the mattress, pushing my head away.

“You’re crazy,” he said, the first truly cheerful words I heard from his sexy lips.

“Now you can fuck me,” I told him, tossing him a condom and reaching for the lube.

“Wait,” Oliver said, his tone allowing little debate.

I didn’t think for a second he was debating whether we should go for it. Still, I hesitated as he got up. “Lie down like that,” he said, pressing the small of my back.

“Oh.” The sound came from me with an odd amount of surprise. Somehow, this felt more intimate. Too intimate for a hookup. Or maybe it was my twisted mind confusing rimming with romance. Either way, I relaxed and surrendered to the deep and thorough pleasure of Oliver’s tongue.

He didn’t spare anything. He didn’t hold back.

Easing his tongue between my cheeks, he exhaled hot breath over my skin and sank his face into me.

The warmth and wetness jarred me for a moment, making my entire body tighten in response, but what my physical shape perceived as a threat in one instant revealed itself as a much-needed pampering.

I relaxed.

He kissed and licked, he sucked and even grazed with his teeth, making me nervous and giddy with excitement.

And he kept doing this for what felt like the entire night.

The mattress under me turned into a fluffy cloud.

The night was a warm blanket. The hands holding my ass were tethers to this world and this reality like nothing else could be.

Oliver’s fingers moved closer to the middle, parting my cheeks and giving him space to lick me harder. A finger slipped closer still, adding pressure just under the spot the tip of his tongue played with.

I didn’t protest it. My body relaxed, knowing what to expect from years of doing that much to myself, and I let him sink into me.

Oliver was careful the first time his finger broke into me.

He was gentle and slow, letting it slide just enough to feel me, feel the tightness of the first attempt.

But after the first, came the rest, and I curled my fingers around the comforter, biting a crease of it as I made myself relax for him.

His finger worked me slowly, deliberately, with the focus that was on display in everything he had done around me this entire day. I suspected it was the same kind of focus that defined all his waking hours, and probably some of the sleeping ones.

“God,” I groaned into the comforter, gritting my teeth harder.

He loosened me and stretched me with purposeful movements, his finger probing me deeper and circling me until my eyes rolled back, and I lifted my head off the bed, craning my neck as far as I could and letting a raspy growl from my tight throat. “Fuck. Yes. Please, Oliver…please…”

“You like that?” he asked, his voice mildly amused, deep and smoky.

“God, yes,” I whispered, or hissed more precisely. “More, Oli…” Though I’d meant to say his name, air hitched in my throat, and the V only formed on my lips when all the sound ceased coming from me.

His fingers slid out of me, and he reached for the lube, pouring generously down the middle of my ass and using his slick finger to spread it, to rub it in, to tease me until I wanted to cry with frustration. Fuck me, dammit, or I’ll die right now .

I failed to remember when someone had rendered me this brain-dead with little more than his lips and his finger. Hell, I hadn’t felt this good with anyone before. The magnitude of the difference scared me.

Was I somehow going to walk away from this and be happy with the next anonymous hookup? Or was I ruined for good?

Oliver slipped the condom on skillfully enough to make me jealous again. He was having tons of sex, I could tell. He must have been.

I reached around my back with my right hand, folding my left arm to rest my head in its crook. As Oliver towered over me, I held his cock in my hand, stroking it easily with the lube covering the condom.

When the tip of his dick touched me, I was ready. I didn’t need to try and see. I didn’t need to test it and assess it. The sense of relaxation came all over me as he let his weight do the work.

My hand held him, guided him to it, and he simply let himself fall through my fist and into me.

The pain was sudden, but it was blissful. It radiated white heat through my core, feeding my soul for that one magical moment before Oliver paused and let it pass. Its warmth spread through me, and Oliver lowered his hips another inch, dipping into me with growing ease.

And when I thought I could be happier, he leaned his torso down and wrapped one arm around my chest and shoulders, holding me while he filled my body.

The cry of pure joy that ripped from my lips dominated the room, melting away into a softer moan as Oliver swung his hips back and eased them forward again.

So it began, the dance I wouldn’t forget until my dying breath, the sensation I would think of every time I woke up, and the pleasure I would compare everyone else to.

Impaling me deeper, Oliver yanked my upper torso off the mattress, crushed his mouth against my ear, and let out a hard-earned grunt, kissed my earlobe with parted lips, and thrust his hips down with increasing speed.

Sliding his dick into me seemed like an effortless task after a little while, sending ripples of immeasurable pleasure through my body all the while his teeth grazed the side of my neck.

His hand dragged over my sweat-covered chest and to the base of my strained neck, holding me as I cried out and moaned and grunted.

He thrust his hips close to me, smashing our bodies together, filling me with his entire size, and rubbing his dick hard against my prostate.

Each moment, so fleeting and fabulous, catapulted my soul out of my body.

My body tensed, skin taut over flexed muscles, toes curling until cramps formed deep in my feet. It didn’t matter. Hardly anything mattered beyond Oliver and me and this impossible thing between us.

He was a stranger in a strange place, but he delivered every deep craving I’d ever imagined. He took me as if I had been his since the dawn of time and had his way with me like he cared. Like he cared that it was good for me.

I grunted, choked on my own sounds, as sweat gathered on my brow and my back. Our bodies pressed together as if to keep warm, but the fire within us was unstoppable.

I lost myself in Oliver’s arms as we sank into the mattress, my legs spreading, ass lifting, lower back curving deep as he fucked me.

His thrusts intensified, his teeth grazing the skin along my neck, his fingers digging deep into my flesh. One hand coiled around my throat, holding me on the verge of breathlessness, until Oliver slammed into me, making my voice break through my hitched breath.

“Harder,” I cried. “Fuck me harder.”

Oliver let go of my torso and my neck, grabbing my wrists and letting his torso lean fully against my back, he slid into me until no more of him was left, impaling me down his entire length, making my heart swell.

Each move, each tremor passing from his body into mine, sparked pressure and warmth through my prostate and my whole body. The sensation was so impossible to resist that I surrendered myself to the violent tides that hurled me beyond the edge of the map.

I threw myself into the depths of pleasure, letting my soul out and allowing Oliver to grind me into the mattress, friction driving my dick crazy with desire to come.

I whimpered that I was close, and Oliver grunted his assent, keeping the pace exactly the same, a maddening constant that didn’t let me steer from the path.

It came as a rolling thunder, rising swiftly to its crescendo until my whole body contorted, muscles convulsing and eyes rolling back. Cum sprayed the sheets beneath me, its wet warmth smeared against my abs.

The shuddering sensation passed from me to Oliver, making him moan for three long seconds before he buried his dick deep inside me and throbbed so hard I felt it in my eyeballs.

He trembled all over, his body plastered against mine, sealed in sweat and sheer desire for closeness. His pulsing cock sent ripples through my flesh, tingles soaking into my muscles.

I’d needed this. I’d needed someone to wreck me, burn me down, ruin me for a night before the daylight could put me back together.

Oliver slid out of me, leaving a searing trail of tingling inside of me, and wrapped his arms around my torso again, pulling me onto my side.

He didn’t speak.

Did he ever?

Yet in the silence, I found peace that I had been searching for. The urge to break it with chatter was gone. It was finally a silence I could enjoy.

It was like this that we drifted off to sleep in the mess we had made, not even thinking of washing off. The distant fire and our own flesh gave us all the warmth we needed.

Something that had been empty in my chest for a terrifyingly long time seemed full. The starved beast was fed.

And just before my mind abandoned the shores of consciousness and drifted away with the tides of dreams, I felt Oliver’s soft fingertips sliding along my chest in a tender exploration.