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Olive

I wake up drunk on the orgasms that Alex gave me as soon as we crawled into bed.

I swore to myself I wouldn’t beg him for anything, but I’ve always been good at lying to myself.

First he got me off with his hands, then his mouth, and only when I begged him, when I pleaded to feel him inside me, did he finally give me all of him.

Because while I appreciate him being willing to wait for sex, I’m only so strong.

It’s like the second his scent wrapped around me, my pheromones were saying game on, bitch.

Now there’s a strong arm hooked around my waist that I know before I even glance down to see the dark coarse hair covering the roped muscles and veins that would be any nurse’s wet dream.

I go to move away when he tightens his hold. Then I’m tugged against a bare torso and hard erection poking at my backside. “Not yet. Early,” he mumbles tiredly.

My eyes flick over to the alarm clock on the nightstand that’s flashing red. “It’s nine.” I try moving his arm, but he rolls his hips forward until the tip of his cock nudges against me.

“Alex!” I say, giggling.

His nose nuzzles against the back of my neck before he brushes his lips under my ear, causing goosebumps to pimple my skin. I shiver when his tongue licks the sensitive spot of skin that always melts the barriers I try keeping up around him. “What?”

I go to tell him to stop, but then he slips a hand between us until his fingers are brushing where the head of his cock is teasing me. Words suddenly seem far away. Too far to argue as he begins playing with me until I’m squirming and letting out a soft moan.

The exhaustion that held onto my conscious is long gone as I squeeze his hand into place between my thighs. He tweaks and pinches and rolls his fingers against my bundle of nerves before he slowly begins easing his length inside me for yet another round.

Despite being sore, I lift my leg to give him better access. He thrusts forward until he’s seated fully and lets out a long groan into the crook of my throat.

And then he starts moving.

Slow.

Hot.

Hard.

He grabs my thigh, my hip, my breast, anything he can get his hands on as he pumps into me from behind until we’re both dotted with sweat. He pinches my nipple and swivels his hips until I’m burying my face into the pillow to swallow the noise that wants to escape.

His voice is hoarse when he says, “God, your pussy is so fucking wet for me.”

He’s always had that power over me. It’s never been like that with other men, not that there have been many. I can honestly say most my early experiences were lackluster. With the exception of Bodhi, who I refuse to think about with another man’s dick inside of me.

Alex makes my body come alive. I don’t feel self-conscious or worry about what I look like in different positions—how my stomach hangs or what the cellulite on the backs of my thighs looks like if I’m bent over.

He never makes me question that. He takes control, bringing me out of my head and into the very delicious reality he creates for us.

And damn am I glad he wasn’t going to fight me on the ‘no sex’ thing until three dates. I might have combusted if I didn’t feel him inside me before I had to drive back to Lindon for the fall semester.

I tilt my head back and lose myself to the way he fucks, listening to all his little praises; every, “So good” and “Going to fuck you so hard” and “Squeeze my cock just like that” .

If there’s one thing that Alex never shies away from, it’s dirty talk. I never knew I had a praise kink until he called me a good girl for sucking his cock. I was done from there on out.

I’m close to climax number I don’t know what when my phone rings.

I curse when I glance over at it briefly and see my brother’s name on the screen. He doesn’t call often, so it momentarily distracts me.

“Let it go to voicemail,” Alex tells me, shifting upward and peppering kisses along my throat and shoulder.

I arch back into him as he takes me harder, hitting me deeper until tingles shoot down my spine. “I n-need to stop. It could be an emergency.”

“No,” he says, nipping my ear. “You’re going to be a good girl and keep taking my dick.”

I can feel the orgasm building higher and higher with every stroke of his bare cock, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to get him to pause to make sure Sebastian is okay. “Alex—”

His lips linger on my ear. “Fine, baby girl. You want to answer it? Answer it.”

My eyes bulge as I glance over my shoulder at him and see that he’s not going to stop. “Are you kidding me? You want me to answer my brother’s phone call while you’re fucking me?”

He nips at my earlobe again and lifts himself onto one arm, moving me to my stomach and dragging my bottom half up so my ass is arched in the air. The same second he enters me again, he reaches over and swipes the ANSWER button while whispering, “Yes,” in my ear. “That’s exactly what I want.”

I have to bite back the groan as Sebastian says, “Olive? You there?”

“Y-Yep.” I want to glare at Alex who doesn’t stop or slow down.

He’s building me closer to the edge and the last thing I want to do is orgasm while my brother listens.

I’m arguably the wettest I’ve ever been, and the noise is evident every time Alex’s cock slams back into me. “I should call you b-back though.”

“You okay? You sound weird. I need to talk to you about something.”

Alex buries his face into my back to suppress his low chuckle. He grinds into me, grinding his hips into me and hitting the right spot that has my eyes rolling back until they hurt. My back arches again as I bury my face into the sheets to stop the mewl that tries escaping my lips.

Alex wraps my hair around his fist and pulls until my head lifts from the mattress. “I’m g-good. But now isn’t the best time.”

There’s a pause. “Are you with somebody? You sound strange. Is this like a hostage situation? Do you need to order a pepperoni pizza or whatever the code is?”

Oh good lord. When Alex uses his hips to grind into me, it makes it even harder to keep composure. He’s evil. Pure evil. “I was just—” A sharp breath escapes me when the man behind me starts toying with my clit. Forget evil. He’s Satan. I’m having sex with the devil.

Reasonable words are beyond me at this point, which is why my filter decides that the next word that escapes my mouth makes perfect sense to say to my sibling. “—masturbating.”

“ What the fuck ? Christ, Olive, next time don’t pick up the phone.” My brother quickly disconnects, but not before I hear him gagging.

Alex lets out a burst of laughter, his movement briefly halting as he drops his forehead to my shoulder and wheezes. “Did you really just tell him that?”

I’ll feel embarrassed about it later, but right now I have one thing on my mind. “I panicked. Shut up and make me come, asshole.”

And he does just that until we’re both falling from the ultimate high, wrapped up in each other’s arms and legs with sweat-coated skin and erratic heartbeats.

Right before he finds his release, he pulls out and empties himself onto my back. “I don’t think you minded based on how tightly you squeezed my dick,” he muses victoriously as he pumps himself empty.

I shoot him a look and flip him off.

He ignores it, grabs a towel to wipe me off, then kisses my cheek, and says, “Get some more sleep. I kept you up late.”

I should tell him that what just happened was messed up, but I can’t. Because it was…hot. And that probably makes me messed up to admit, so I don’t say anything at all.

I’m already groggy, and happily sated, so I barely remember him leaving the room by the time sleep finds me again.

But when I wake up an hour later and finally peel myself out of bed and change into clean clothes, I follow the sound of clinking pots and pans until I’m met with a shirtless Alex standing in front of the stove.

“I thought you didn’t have food?” I ask, getting his attention.

Walking over, I examine the plate of waffles sprinkled with cinnamon beside the assortment of fruit, juice and…champagne?

Then I realize what he’s doing.

“I went out and grabbed some groceries while you slept,” he explains nonchalantly, taking the next waffle out of the maker and setting it on the stack I’m staring at. “I even got you real maple syrup. Not the fake kind that you rant about.”

“It tastes like chemicals,” I say slowly.

There are eggs and bacon on other plates, and sausage links in the pan that resemble what he normally orders for breakfast. “You made all my favorites,” I note in awe. “Is this what I’m going to get every weekend that I visit you?”

He grins at me. “I wouldn’t hold your breath. Some of this might not even be edible.”

There’s not one piece of food in front of me that looks burnt or undercooked. “You secretly know how to cook.”

He takes the sausages out of the pan and moves the pan off the burner. “It’s not really a secret. I had to learn how to cook when I lived with my mom. She used to teach me some of her favorites before things got tough. My dad was good in the kitchen too.”

I pull out one of the stools and sit down. “I know how to make, like, three things without totally ruining them.”

“Anything good?”

I reach for a piece of strawberry that he cut up for the waffles. “I can make a great cup of coffee, a killer lasagna, and a phone call to the local pizzeria.”

Alex chuckles. “Lasagna, huh?”

“It’s my mom’s specialty.” I think back to the eggplant lasagna Dad’s girlfriend made.

A feel a heavy weight settle into my chest thinking about the wedge that day put between him and I.

But he did that to himself, so I tell myself not to feel bad about it.

“She taught me how to make it when I was little. Seb knows too.”

He makes a thoughtful noise. “I can’t say I’ve ever had much lasagna, but I’d be willing to give it a try.”

He starts plating our food, putting everything together exactly how it looks at the diners when I order it.