Page 223 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. One

I guide his cock to my entrance, taking him in an inch. A whimper escapes my mouth at the way he feels. I mean to take it slow, but I can’t help myself as I sink down until he’s all the way inside of me.

“Wren,” Oliver groans. His hands are clenched into fists on his stomach. When I start moving up and down, he lets out something like a high-pitched shout.

Fuck, that’s hot.

I set a steady pace, rubbing my clit gently.

“Christ, Wren,” Oliver says. He rolls his hips again, but the look I give him makes him stop. “Fuck. How am I supposed to stay still? Too good, princess.”

“Do as you’re told, or I’ll stop.”

He whimpers, clenching his fists even tighter. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about having him like this. Most of me was sure I’d like it, but the rest was clouded over with nervousness and self-doubt. But god, now that he’s underneath me and completely at my mercy, I wouldn’t trade this for anything.

Not only do I feel safe and in control, but I feel strong for the first time in days. And it’s right then, just as I come again, that I realize I can handle everything I’ve been putting off. Not on my own, but with Elliot, Rhett, and Oliver by my side.

When I come down, Oliver is staring at me so softly, so sweetly, that I find myself leaning down and kissing him without making a conscious decision to do so. It’s instinct, maybe, or an irresistible pull to him that I can’t explain. Either way, the kiss is overflowing with hundreds of emotions and thousands of unspoken words. It takes my breath away, and when I break the kiss, Oliver looks like he’s barely holding on for dear life.

“You,” he pants, “are a sex goddess.”

I giggle at the notion, moving back to an even pace now that I’m not distracted by our kiss.

Oliver groans, pushing his head into the mattress. “So close, Wren. So close.”

“Mmm. You want to come, O?”

He gives me a playful look, repeating something I once said to him. “What do you think?”

The laugh that bubbles up my throat is like a release of its own. “It’s like that, huh? You want to come? Then beg for it.” I start moving my hips in a different way, trying to keep him on the edge without pushing him over.

“Wren, please,” he groans.

I wait for a second, but he doesn’t say anything else. “I happen to know the men you’ve been sleeping with for the past ten years. They would never call that begging. Try again.”

He grins. “Was hoping you’d take pity on me.”

“I’ll take pity on you once you’ve pleaded hard enough.”

Holy shit, this is fun.

Oliver blows out a breath. “I want to come so bad, princess. Please.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Wren, please. I’m begging you, let me come. I want to come inside of you. God, I want it more than anything right now. Please.”

“Such a good boy,” I murmur, picking up my pace again.

Oliver grunts, and then his eyes widen. “Oh, fuck.”

“Give it to me, O. Give it all to me.”

He lets out something between a groan and a whine while his whole body tenses. “Wren. Oh my god, Wren.”

“Eyes on me while you come, Oliver. I want to see.”

Our gazes meet, but his eyes are unfocused with pleasure. I move my hips slower, drawing out the moment until he’s finished. When he melts into the mattress, I slowly lift myself off him. Then I pepper tiny kisses up his body until my lips meet his in a lazy, tired kiss.

I collapse onto the bed next to him. We’re both sweaty and exhausted, but I’ve never been quite this elated in my life.