Page 17 of Devil in the Details

Pope

I didn’t stop myself from crowding her, invading her personal space.

I was hard and saw the way she glanced at the way I tented my pants. My cock was bulging, maybe embarrassingly so.

When I was a foot from her, I looked at her face, saw the emotions playing across it.

Without thinking and just acting on instinct, I lifted my hand and cupped her cheek.

God, she felt so fucking good. Her breath caught, and I stared at her lips.

I’d never been a man who wanted to do the love thing, never wanted the whole “forever” aspect of love.

But with Olive… yeah, I wanted all that.

“What are you doing?” She tried to sound surprised, maybe because I was touching her, but despite that shocked sound, I could hear the pitch of her voice.

She was turned on.

Olive brought her tongue out, ran it along the swell of her bottom lip, and that was when I lost it. I wanted Olive like I wanted to breathe. I leaned in close, stopped so our mouths were just a centimeter apart, and stared into her eyes. She didn’t stop me, didn’t stop this.

I kissed her softly at first, letting her get used to the pressure of my lips on hers, of my hand tightening now on her cheek.

I pulled her closer, and when she didn’t immediately push me away, I tilted my head to deepen the kiss.

God, she tasted incredible. She panted against my mouth, but that didn’t stop me from running my tongue along her lips, coaxing her mouth open so I could delve inside.

I moved my hand behind her head, gripped the loose strands of her hair, and loved when she finally opened her mouth as she gasped.

I seized the moment and pushed my tongue inside, a groan leaving me on its own, as if I had no control over myself or how I felt for her. No. I have no damn control when it comes to her.

Taking her mouth harder, more fiercely, I felt this dam open up inside me, controlling my actions. She now had her hands on my arms, the feel of her nails pricking my flesh making me grunt in pleasure.

“God, you feel fucking good, baby.” I used my hand in her hair to tilt her head farther to the side, delved my tongue deeper into her mouth, and took her like a man possessed.

I am possessed. By her.

“Pope,” she panted against my mouth. “We should stop.”

I groaned. “I don’t want to stop. Do you, Olive?”

She shook her head, and I felt my cock jerk in response.

I curled my fingers into her scalp, loved the little sound that came from her, and moved us so she was pressed against the wall.

Then I pressed my dick against her belly, loving the softness I was greeted with.

I ground myself against her obscenely, like some kind of damn teenager unable to control himself.

And then I kissed her like I was a dying man and she was my last meal. I devoured her, took everything she was willing to give me, and knew it wouldn’t be enough. It would never be enough.

When I broke the kiss and looked down at her mouth, I saw how red her lips were, how swollen and glossy from my kiss. My cock jerked forward. I wanted to see another part of her looking the same, another part of her wet and pink, swollen and ready for me.

The sound of people right outside my office door turned me on more, knowing we could get caught, knowing anyone could see us.

“Someone could catch us,” she whispered breathlessly.

“So what, Olive baby?” My voice was thick with desire. “Can’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on a little bit, can you?”

She didn’t answer right away, but then I saw the way her pupils dilated, the way her breathing changed even more.

I knew she was soaked between her thighs, could practically feel the heat scorch right through me.

I slipped my hand into the edge of her skirt, slid my fingers along the material, then pushed her skirt up.

And then I felt the lacy edge of her panties, a harsh sound leaving me.

“Damn, baby. You got little secrets, don’t you? ”

She was panting.

“I bet you like the feel of that lace on your pussy, don’t you?”

“Pope. God.” She whispered that last word.

It took a lot of damn willpower not to just shove the fabric aside and thrust my fingers into her. A groan left me at that thought.

“Tell me, Olive. Tell me what you want.”

She stared at me with wide eyes, her lips parted.

“Touch me.”

Christ.

I didn’t waste another second. I pushed the material of her panties aside, that soft, delicate fabric that had my balls drawing up tight.

“Say it again,” I demanded.

“Touch me, Pope. Touch all of me.”

When I finally touched her pussy, all slick, smooth, hot, and wet flesh, I couldn’t stop myself from slamming my free hand on the wall beside her head.

I leaned down to bury my face in the crook of her neck.

She smelled so fucking good. I inhaled deeply then ran my tongue up the length of her throat. She tasted good too. So fucking good.

I worked my fingers on her pussy lips, moaned at the smoothness of her flesh, and started grinding myself against her.

“Tell me you like it.” The way she worked herself on my hand told me she did fucking like this. But I wanted to hear her say it. I needed to. “Tell me,” I demanded.

“I like it,” she said breathlessly.

“Yeah, you do.”

Olive let her head fall back against the wall and closed her eyes. I worked my fingers through her folds, moved them up and down her slit, and then started rubbing her clit back and forth.

“I want you, Olive. I need you,” I said against her neck.

“Tell me more,” she coaxed.

“You want to know it all? You want to know what I want to do to you?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“I want my cock in your pussy, want to feel how tight and wet you are for me, how slick I made you.”

“God,” she moaned.

“I want you in my bed, under me, giving me everything, because you can’t stand this sexual tension between us anymore, because you want me as much as I want you.” I stroked her faster, harder, knowing if I kept this up she’d give me what I desperately wanted.

“Oh. God.” She started moving her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy on my hand.

I wanted to keep going, wanted her to get off for me, wanted her cream coating my fingers and palm.

“Please,” she whispered, and I knew I had to give her whatever she wanted.

I worked her over so good until she clutched at me like her life depended on it. She tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and finally gave me what I wanted.

Her surrender.

Her pleasure.

And as she tensed for me, moaned out, I absorbed all of it.

Fuck, I was hard as steel, and seeing her flushed, panting, her post-euphoric orgasm lingering between us, I could have gotten off from all that alone.

I lifted my hand so she could see how wet my fingers were, how creamy she’d made them.

And then I brought them to my mouth. I sucked the digits clean, my gaze trained right on her the whole time.

And when I’d swallowed all of her arousal, I leaned in and kissed her once more.

I forced her to taste herself on me, to know her flavor mixed with mine.

I broke the kiss but stayed close, letting her feel how hard I still was, what she did to me.

“This isn’t over with, Olive.” I stared right in her eyes.

She licked her lips, and I felt the way her body shook slightly. “I know.”