Page 40 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. One (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #1)

Oliver

Rhett and Elliot stay in the room Holloway always keeps reserved for us. He may think he hides it well, but I know Rhett absolutely detests having any kind of fun when Ludo is around. And considering Sammy got brought up, it’s best Elliot stays with him.

But I, personally, am in the mood to celebrate.

We told her. We showed her our deepest, darkest secret, and she didn’t shove us away.

As I drag Wren onto the dance floor, I think back over the past week. She’s been through so much. And she’s handled it beautifully.

I think I want to kill him, too.

When those words spilled out of her mouth, it took everything in me not to fuck her senseless right there. Because it means she gets it. She fucking gets it.

And I couldn’t be more relieved.

When we pass by Ludo’s spot, I give him a nod. He’s still wearing his signature smirk, even more pronounced than usual since one of his top competitors is dead. He tips his head down slightly, his eyes tracking Wren, before he raises an eyebrow at me. With a wink, I turn away, making sure to keep Wren tucked into my side.

Being friendly with your worst enemy is a weird, gut-twisting feeling, but you get used to it eventually. It’ll be worth it.

Wren and I fall into the crowd, and soon we’re lost in the music and lights. She’s been somewhat tense all week, so it’s nice to see her let go.

At some point, we get drinks, and I glance up to find Elliot and Rhett watching us. We’re safe here, but it’s nice to know they have our backs in case there’s trouble.

Not that there will be. This place is exclusive for a reason. Ludo Holloway may love violence, but not when he’s not in control of it.

“You’re about to find out,” Wren shouts over the music, “that I’m very much a lightweight.”

I laugh. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Her eyes soften, and she kisses me for a second longer than appropriate before she goes back to dancing.

She seems fine through her first drink. But as she starts sipping her second, it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to hit her system. Then she turns into a giggling mess. She can’t stop eyeing me, and she gets increasingly handsy. Which I find incredibly cute.

“Impatient, princess?”

She nods enthusiastically, and just as she’s about to take another sip of her drink, I ease it out of her hand.

When she protests, I give her an amused look. “Two options, princess. You keep drinking, and we stay until you’re ready to pass out. We’ll get you home safe and put you to bed.”

She pouts.

“Or you stop drinking before you’re too far gone. I know what you want, Wren. But I’m not going to give it to you if I don’t think you’re sober enough to consent. Neither will Elliot. Or Rhett.”

For a second, she stares at me, and I wonder if she didn’t hear me over the music. But then that look crosses her face. It’s the one I saw her give us earlier, when we told her we were taking her out but didn’t tell her why.

Absolute trust.

She throws her arms around me, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “You’re perfect.” Then she tilts her head, narrowing her eyes at me. “And really good at eyeliner.”

I try not to, but my body goes rigid. It’s something I normally wear when we go out, but tonight, the only reason I put it on was because Elliot and Rhett would’ve lectured me if I hadn’t.

“You don’t mind that I’m wearing it?”

She gapes at me. “Mind it? Oliver. It’s sexy as hell. And it makes me want to kiss you senseless. Mmm. And—and fuck you, too.”

I grin. “Soon, princess. For now, let’s keep dancing.”

After giving me another kiss, she does.

It only takes her a half hour, and then she’s seeming much more like herself. Makes sense, considering she didn’t have that much alcohol.

Still, I don’t want to rush things.

I lean in, my lips brushing against her ear, smiling to myself when she melts at the light touch. “I’m going to get you some water.”

With a quick glance to make sure Elliot and Rhett are watching her, I leave her and grab a cup of water. As I’m making my way back over to her, I notice Ludo staring in her direction.

No, not in her direction. At her.

The heated interest in his eyes has my stomach roiling with disgust. He doesn’t even deserve to be in the same room as her. My steps quicken, and I have to avert my eyes before someone catches me giving Ludo a scathing glare.

I’m not possessive. Really, I’m not.

Okay, maybe I am. A little.

Because when I get back to Wren, I don’t hand her the water. Instead, I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into me. Her hands are instantly on my chest, grabbing at my shirt, as I seal my lips to hers in a… yeah. It’s a possessive damn kiss, and I don’t fucking care. Ludo can keep his hands—and his eyes—to himself.

“Oliver,” she gasps when I finally release her.

Handing her the water, I lean in close. “Drink up.”

She takes the cup and gulps half of it down.

“Good girl.”

She practically glows at my praise.

We stick to the dance floor for a couple more minutes. The entire time, I keep my hands on her in some capacity. The way her body moves against mine is intoxicating, and I also want to make sure Ludo knows his fucking place: far away from Wren.

Eventually, I grab her hand and tug. She follows me without question, and I pull her into a deserted back hallway. Once we’re around a corner and out of sight, I pin her to the wall and capture her mouth with mine.

Her hands come around the back of my neck as she tries to get as close to me as possible. Considering the desperation that’s been building up in her ever since I teased her at home, she’d probably let me strip her down right here.

Not that I would.

Her hand slips under the front of my shirt, and I groan into her mouth. It only eggs her on, and as our kiss deepens, her hips roll into mine slowly.

When I pull away, her eyes are unfocused and heavy-lidded, and her breaths are coming out in short pants.

“I’m sober enough, Oliver. I promise.”

Tracing the outline of her jaw, I say, “And impatient.”

She lets out an adorable little whine.

My hands drop to her thighs, playing with the hem of her dress. Then I trail them upward, painfully slowly, until they’re tracing her breasts. When my fingers reach her collarbones, her head falls back against the wall.

“Maybe I should just do this for a while. See how worked up I can get you.” To be honest, I’m not sure how much patience I have left. But she doesn’t know that.

She whimpers, and one of her hands reaches to pull her dress up. I snatch it away.

“Oliver!”

“You can touch me, princess. And I’ll touch you.”

Her eyes flare all the way open. And then, slowly, she places both hands on my chest. Her fingers travel lightly, tracing the curves and edges of my body. My jawbone, my cheeks, my neck. My arms, my shoulders, my stomach. With every tiny touch, she sends tendrils of warmth and pleasure through me.

When her hands reach my hips, she glances up at me questioningly.

I nod. “Go on.”

Her fingers brush downward, grazing my cock. At the same time, I let my hands cup her breasts. My thumbnails run over her nipples through her dress.

“Ohhh.”

“Don’t stop, Wren.” I repeat the action, staring at the way her nipples peak perfectly through the red fabric.

Her fingers wrap around my dick the best they can through my pants, and she strokes it in up and down motions. For a few blissful seconds, the noises of the club fade away, and the only thing that exists is us.

But then a shrill, female laugh cuts through the air, too close for comfort. Wren tenses.

I pause, listening for footsteps, but no one rounds the corner. When I step back, Wren grabs my arms.

“Please don’t stop.”

When I look at her, I see a little thrill in her eyes. “Does the thought of getting caught excite you, princess?”

She bites her lip and avoids my gaze, staring at my chest instead.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Taking her hand, I place it back on my dick. Then, with a small kiss, I pinch her nipples.

Her back arches, and her grip on my cock tightens.

“Tell me what you want, Wren.” I nip at her ear before groaning. Her hand feels so goddamned good.

“I want your fingers,” she whispers. “Inside of me. I’m off my period.”

“Mmm. I’d do it either way, princess. Do you want me to make you come?”

She nods.

One of my hands stays on her breast, tweaking her nipple, while the other falls in between her legs, pushing her dress up slightly. When I push her thong to the side, her free hand comes up to grip the back of my neck.

She’s so wet she’s practically dripping. “So needy,” I murmur smugly in her ear. Then I slip a single finger inside of her.

“More,” she moans.

I oblige, adding another and curling them into her. She whimpers, her strokes slowing from distraction.

“Don’t slow down, Wren, or I will too.”

She gasps, picking up her pace again.

“Just like that.” I run my tongue across her bottom lip before kissing her. When she opens her mouth, I slide my tongue inside, meeting hers. She tastes like the sugary, fruity drink she had, and I can’t get enough.

“Oliver,” she says, breaking away after a minute. “Use your thumb on my clit.”

Grinning, I do. I knew she wanted it, but I wanted her to tell me to do it. I love hearing her beg, but having her command me to do something? Ten times better.

“Fuck,” she whispers. Her eyes slide closed, and I half expect her hand to slow down again, but it doesn’t.

“Look at you,” I say lowly in her ear. “Don’t even have enough patience to wait until we get home. You’re going to let me fuck you right here, aren’t you?”

Her breath hitches, and she nods.

“You know what that makes you?” I nip at her bottom lip, still curling my fingers into her and rubbing her clit with my thumb. “A filthy slut. Doesn’t it?”

“Yes. I am—ohhh god.”

I smile to myself. Rhett can’t stand being degraded, but Elliot likes it. And watching Wren melt at my words is just as fun as watching him do the same.

She stretches upward, capturing my lips in a desperate, clumsy kiss. When I pick up the pace of my fingers, she moans, doing the same with her hand on my dick.

The tension, the anticipation, the fear of getting caught—it all drives me into a lustful haze. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting her. Of having my tongue inside of her.

Pinching her nipple one last time, I say, “Do you want me to use my mouth on you?”

“God yes. Please. Please.”

“Order me to do it, princess.”

There’s an infinitesimal moment of hesitance, but then she smiles. “Get on your knees, Oliver. Now.”

I do, resting both hands on her thighs and looking up at her. Waiting.

It takes her a second to catch on. Then, with a nervous giggle, she shifts her weight to one leg. “Put my leg over your shoulder.”

When I do, I kiss her inner thigh, and I realize she’s quivering with excitement. Me too, princess.

“I want your fingers still inside of me. And then use your tongue and your mouth on my clit.”

I groan. “With pleasure.”

Then I dive in. With two fingers moving in and out of her, I tease her clit with my tongue, relishing in the way she tastes. I can’t help the grunt of appreciation that leaves my throat.

“Harder, Oliver. You’ve teased me enough.”

I chuckle, nuzzling my face against her, before obeying. When I press small circles to her clit with my tongue, her knee almost gives out. I grab her hip with my free hand to steady her, pulling away for a second.

“Use the wall for balance.”

She leans into it, panting, and I go back to using my tongue on her. My fingers move in and out of her, hitting one of her sensitive spots. Her tiny moans and whimpers have my cock so hard, it’s straining painfully against my pants.

I’d say I regret getting on my knees instead of going straight to fucking her, but I don’t. I’ll always enjoy eating her out.

And, my god, I’m going to do whatever is necessary to make sure there is a forever.

“Oliver,” she gasps. “Oliver, I’m going to come. It feels too good.”

And then she’s biting her hand so she doesn’t scream, her eyes rolling back into her head, as her orgasm washes over her. It’s a beautiful sight. Mesmerizing, even.

As she comes down, I slowly pull my fingers from her. Then I slide her leg off my shoulder, because she’s so dazed it looks like she might fall over.

When I stand up, she doesn’t even give me a split second before her arms are wrapped around my neck and she’s kissing me. She moans at her taste on my tongue, or maybe it’s because of the way I press her into the wall with my body.

I don’t care. All that matters is that I have her. We have her.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“I need you to fuck me.”

With a smirk, I wrap an arm around her waist. “Come with me.”

It’s too out in the open for what I want to do. I don’t want to have to be listening for people coming down the hallway the whole time.

I scan each of the doors we pass. Most are offices, then there are bathrooms for the staff, and then—perfect.

Dragging her through the door labeled “Maintenance,” I give the room a once-over. Empty except for shelves of cleaning supplies, toilet paper, and the works. And in the far corner, a table that’s exactly the height I’m looking for.

I lead her over to it, and then I yank her dress up, exposing her ass. She gasps, glancing at the door, but she doesn’t look too worried.

“This okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” I murmur. Then I pick her up and set her on the table. It’s not very big, so her shoulder blades hit the wall behind it when I lift her legs, placing them on my shoulders.

She lets out a surprised squeak, probably from effectively being folded in half. I run a finger down her legs, then over her clit, and she jumps.

“You ready?”

With a nod, she reaches for my pants, but I beat her to it. I shove them down with my boxers, and instantly her gaze is fixated on my cock and the way I’m pumping it with my hand.

I line myself up with her entrance, but then I stop. “Hold on to me.”

One of her hands wraps around my neck. She keeps the other on the table, gripping the edge.

Then I slide into her, kissing her bare calf as I do. I’m already drunk off of her—her taste, her smell, the way she can’t stop shaking. But when a little ”Fuck,” comes out of her mouth, it takes every ounce of my willpower to keep my pace slow.

She meets my thrusts with her own attempts, but one of her legs begins to slip off my shoulder. I grab it, putting it back in place and holding it there. She tries again, but I shake my head, leaning down and kissing her.

“Let me, princess. You can touch yourself. I want to feel you come around my dick.”

Her eyes flutter closed for a second. Then, eyes locked on mine, she uses her middle finger to circle her clit.

“That’s it,” I say, watching her, never wanting to look away. My self-control runs out, and my thrusts quicken. When Wren’s moans get louder, pride unfurls in my chest.

“It’s a good thing Elliot can’t see you,” I chide playfully. “He’d be trying to make you scream right now.”

She bites her lip to try to muffle her moans.

This entire time, she hasn’t looked away from me, and it’s made the whole thing so much more intense. When she clenches around me, I groan. She feels so warm, so right, so fucking perfect.

She’s not going to be able to hold on for long.

Shit. I don’t think I’ll be able to, either.

I slow down. This is just the beginning of a long night of exploring each other’s bodies, but I don’t want this part to end. The four of us all together is indescribable, but this? Being alone with any of them, having their body all to myself, being the center of their attention?

That’s its own kind of heaven.

“Oliver,” Wren moans. “I’m so close.”

I lean forward, pressing her legs even closer into her body, and slam into her. She cries out, forgetting to stay quiet, and I smirk before my mouth meets hers.

The way her lips move against mine is unfocused and unsteady. And then she’s not kissing me at all, instead whispering, “Oh god, oh god oh god oh fuck.”

It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever witnessed.

I pull away ever so slightly, watching as her back arches and her face goes slack with ecstasy. The way she feels as she comes on my cock is pulling me closer to the edge, and I’m trying to hold on, but fuck. How am I supposed to when it all feels so good?

With a shuddering breath, I slow my thrusts, trying to draw out her orgasm and delay my own. It seems to work, because she lets out something like a sob, and her middle finger is still moving on her clit with a feather-light touch.

When she whimpers again, I clap a hand over her mouth.

“Those noises, Wren. They’re going to make me come. And I’m not ready yet, dammit.”

She grunts against my hand, then takes in a series of short breaths through her nose. Only when her hand falls away from her clit do I release her.

“Holy shit,” she says, the words coming out all tired and breathy. Her eyes are closed, her hair is a bit of a mess, and she looks absolutely ravaged.

Well, not absolutely. That’s how she’ll look when Rhett and Elliot are through with her. But I’m proud of my part in it.

Wren grips the table with one hand, and with the other she runs her hand lightly over my chest. One of her fingers brushes over my nipple, and the zap of electricity it sends through me has me swearing.

“Oh my god,” she murmurs. She does it again, and I grip her legs tighter. My hips pick up their speed without my permission. The feeling is too addictive.

Just like I did to her earlier, Wren uses her thumbnail to lightly scrape my nipple through my shirt. She doesn’t stop, watching me with rapt fascination.

“Wren,” I groan. Not yet. Fuck, not yet.

But my body betrays me, my vision blacking out as I finish. Wren rubs my nipple one last time before she’s pulling me down and kissing me. All of this barely registers in my mind as I come, wave after wave of pleasure overwhelming me. When I’m finally able to think again, it hits me that I’m not kissing her back, too lost in the euphoria.

We break off the kiss and stare at each other, chests heaving and hearts pounding. Gently, I lower her legs and pull her into a tight embrace. When I release her, there’s so much emotion on her face that it should probably terrify me.

It doesn’t.

I kiss her. “Come on, princess. We should get back before Ell and Rhett get too jealous.”

Besides, I have a plan I need to set in motion.