Page 32

thirty-one

Lane

Even back before I had a kid, I never just made out with a woman in my kitchen.

Hell, I didn’t even bring them to my kitchen. All my hookups were in hotel rooms, even in NYC. I wanted to keep a sliver of privacy, so I kept my penthouse to myself.

But Olive sits on my kitchen counter now with her long, bare legs resting on either side of my hips.

I make sure to keep my eyes on her face because I’m not sure what they’ll find if they gaze further south.

Her dress is short, and I know it has to be riding up even higher on her thighs. I can’t risk that temptation.

She’s different tonight, but not in a bad way. She seems so much more confident than she usually is, and I love to see her taking more of herself back.

Olive about had my brain short-circuit when she asked me to teach her how to have an orgasm, but I couldn’t deny her.

She’s been through so much more than any person ever deserves to go through, and if I can help her reclaim her sexuality, erasing the hold that oxygen thief has over her, then I’ll do everything I can for her.

Olive Finch deserves the fucking world, and I’ll be the one to make sure she receives it.

When my tongue swipes at hers again, she lightly moans into my mouth, and the sound travels straight to my dick, just like it always does when I’m around her.

Or thinking about her.

Or just existing in the same universe as her.

Can’t deny that I want her when I so clearly do, but everything moves at her pace. If that means we never have sex, then so be it. I’m happy enough just to kiss her. Everything else is just a bonus.

We’re both gasping for breath when we break our kiss, staring at each other as we regain our composure.

“Shit, Lane,” Olive sighs.

I chuckle. “Not too bad yourself, Ballerina.”

She smiles and grabs my shirt collar, tugging me closer so she can press her forehead to mine. “I like kissing you. A lot.”

“I like kissing you, too, baby. Never enjoyed kissing someone this much until I started kissing you.”

Olive’s face is so soft and sweet, and even though we’re taking things slow, I can’t help but let my mind wander. Like wondering how pretty that berry lipstick would look wrapped around my cock, how good that tongue would feel teasing my shaft.

I like to think of myself as a gentleman, but I guess fuckboy ways die hard.

Those thoughts will need to remain just that— thoughts. Olive doesn’t need to know about all my dirty fantasies involving her. She’s worth so much more to me than just acting out my sexual desires. I like her as a person, and I want to keep her around.

I gently push her hair behind her ear, those deep green eyes captivating me as I do. When I bring my hand down, my intention is to rest it on the counter. But what I actually do is rest it right on top of her bare thigh.

Olive’s breath catches in her throat, and electricity courses all through me. And since she’s not flinching away from my touch, I allow myself to lean into it, splaying my hand over her skin and letting my thumb lightly tease the inside of her thigh.

“Lane…” Her voice comes out as a needy whisper. Fuck, she’s turned on right now, isn’t she?

“Have you been practicing what I taught you last week, baby?” My lips ghost over hers, my voice rough and demanding.

“Yes,” she rasps, not taking her eyes off mine. “Every day.”

“Good fucking girl,” I growl, nipping her bottom lip. “How many orgasms, Olive? How many times have you gotten yourself off using what I taught you?”

“I didn’t keep count,” she breathes. “But it’s worked every time.”

I groan. “Did you call out my name again when you came? God, you’re so fucking pretty when you come.”

Her breathing is heavy as I slowly slide my hand up her thigh. “Yes,” she replies, “because I was thinking about you.”

“Thinking about me, huh?” I smirk, pride washing over me. “What about me?”

Olive lowers her voice now, whispering, “I was imagining it was you instead.”

I did not expect that.

I look at her with wide eyes. “You imagined that it was my hand instead of yours?” She nods softly while biting her lip, and every bit of desire I have for her rears up to the surface.

I brush my lips over the shell of her ear, and I feel the shiver run down her body.

“And in your imagination, did it feel good when I slid my fingers into your pussy? Did it feel good to come all over my hand as you cried out my name?”

“Yes,” she moans, and I grow even harder. I haven’t unleashed this side of myself in years, and it’s hot as fuck that innocent little Olive seems to enjoy some dirty talk.

“Happy to help then,” I smile deviously, tightening my grip on her thigh.

“Maybe you should really help me,” she teases. “Show me how it would really feel.”

I stare at her, mouth agape. “Olive… how much have you had to drink tonight?” There’s no way she’s sober right now. Not if she’s asking this.

“I haven’t had a drink since that amaretto sour, Lane.” She kisses me, and I can feel the heat behind her lips. “I’m not drunk. Barely even tipsy right now. I know exactly what I’m asking you to do.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t think anything was going to move beyond me teaching you how to take care of yourself.”

“I want you to keep teaching me,” she says shyly, nervously. “I don’t want to be afraid of sex and intimacy anymore. Help me learn what I like and what I don’t. Teach me how you would take care of me.”

My mind is conflicted. The idea of sinking my fingers inside her has me ready to blow in my own pants, but is this what she actually wants? I don’t want her to feel like she has to do this. I want this choice to be her own. She didn’t get the choice before.

“Olive,” I say gently. “There isn’t anything I want more right now than to make you come, but are you sure that’s what you want? It’s one thing to teach you how to do it yourself. It’s entirely different to have me take care of you.”

“I know.” Her eyes are pleading with me to take her words as genuine. “And I want that. Lane, I really like you. Taking care of myself has been fine, but I want to know how it would feel when you’re doing it.”

“Fuck,” I groan, every bit of restraint I had snapping. “Then let me take care of you, baby. I can make you feel so good.”

Olive wraps her legs around my waist as I lift her from the counter and carry her to my bed.

Once I lay her down on top of it, I fix her dress, pulling it down her legs.

I’m planning to take care of her, but I know she’ll be far more comfortable if she’s still dressed.

She might be ready for me to give her an orgasm, but she’s not ready to completely bare herself to me.

I don’t want to do anything that will make her uncomfortable.

She teases her tongue over my bottom lip, so I open and lean into her kiss. I’m not gentle this time. I’m rough and needy, owning her mouth as I roll myself on top of her, bracing my arms on either side of her shoulders.

“I’ve never been kissed like that,” Olive says, fighting for breath. “Oh my God.”

“You’re unleashing a side I’ve never shown you, baby. You sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes,” she nods. “I want this, Lane. And I kind of want you to take your shirt off, too.”

I can’t help but smirk. “You want some eye candy, Livvy?” She blushes deeply as I undo the buttons of my shirt before sliding it off my shoulders, leaving me in just a pair of jeans. “I’ll never tell you no to that.”

I position myself beside her now, wrapping an arm under her and resting that hand on her side while my other hand starts slowly running up her thigh. I take my time, going slowly so she has time to change her mind if she doesn’t want to do this.

But she doesn’t. When my hand slips under the hem of her dress, she doesn’t push me away. She kisses me before she takes a deep breath and lets her legs fall open for me. I can’t see anything under the fabric of her dress, but even just knowing that she’s ready for me is enough.

I slide my hand further up, and I groan when I feel how drenched the lace of her panties is. “You’re so fucking wet, baby.”

“Mhmm. I want you, Lane.”

“Keep your eyes on me then, Liv. I want to see your face the first time I sink my fingers into your dripping cunt.”

She gasps when I pull her panties aside and tease my middle finger over her slit. I keep my eyes trained on hers as I slowly slip inside and watch them roll back as I give her the entire length.

“Oh my God,” Olive moans. “That feels so good.”

“You’re so tight,” I grit, thrusting my finger in and out. “So slick and warm. Do you think you can take two fingers?”

“Please,” she sighs, and I give her exactly what she wants, letting my ring finger join my middle.

Just the feel of her has me leaking into my boxers, and I know there’s no way I can make it out of this without coming myself. Not when she feels this good, and she’s enjoying this the way she is.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” I murmur, my lips brushing over hers. “So pretty when you take my fingers. So pretty when you let yourself take what you want.”

“Lane…”

“Love hearing you moan my name,” I whisper against her ear. “It makes me so goddamn hard, Liv. Fuck, I like taking care of you. Does this feel good?”

“So… good…” Olive lets out a loud moan, and I feel my balls tightening. She isn’t even touching me.

“I can feel how much you like it,” I say, breathing heavily as I try to keep from exploding. “You’re fluttering around me.”

I take my thumb now and start teasing it over her clit. Her hips fly off the bed. “Oh my God!”

“Shit,” I groan, trying desperately to not go yet.

“I know you want to come, Olive, and I think you like being a good girl, too. So be my good girl right now. Come on my fingers. Let me feel you clench around me. I need it so fucking bad.” I move my fingers faster, determined to push her over the edge. “Come on, baby. Give it to me.”

Olive cries out my name as she lets go, her pussy tightening around my fingers as she releases.

That’s all I need to fucking explode. Spurts of cum shoot out of me, drenching the inside of my pants. I haven’t come in my pants since I was fourteen, but that was too fucking hot to hold back.

Her orgasm ebbs out, and her breathing steadies. “Holy shit,” she says, looking at me with a satisfied smile. “You’re so much better than my fingers.”

I laugh deeply. “You’re better than my hand, that’s for sure.”

She looks at me curiously. “What does that mean? I didn’t do anything for you.”

“Baby, getting you off was all I needed. Came right in my pants the moment you let go.”

“You came in your pants?” Olive asks, surprised. “Is that a thing?”

I laugh harder now. “I’ve got all the evidence in my jeans. Fingering you might just be my new favorite thing.”

Her cheeks flush. “Oh.”

I pull her into a searing kiss before I finally slip my fingers out of her and bring them right up to my mouth. Olive watches as I slide them inside, licking them clean.

“Fuuuck…” I moan. “You taste fucking incredible.”

“Holy shit,” she says softly, seemingly shocked by my statement.

I hold her close to me and kiss the top of her head. “We’ll keep moving slowly, Olive, but just know that I fucking loved that. I loved getting to take care of you, make you feel good.”

“Thank you, Lane.” Her voice is so sweet as she nuzzles into my chest, content and happy.

The last thing I expected when we got back here tonight was for this to happen, but making Olive come is officially my new favorite activity.

If this is how the year starts—with me making the girl of my dreams come all over my hand—this is going to be the best goddamn year of my life.