Page 318 of The Havenport Collection

Maeve

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t wait another minute. My heart was pounding and the blood was buzzing in my veins. It was all too much. I looked down at my wrist, at the bandage and what I knew was underneath. A symbol of me. Of my freedom and my desire to live life on my own terms.

Slowly, I was coming around to it. To a life where I called the shots and didn’t spend every waking moment trying to be the most perfect woman to ever exist. A life filled with food and orgasms and people that made me happy. A life where I could work to live and not live to work.

And at the center of it all was Oliver. The big, strong stud with a mushy heart who was teaching me more about myself every single day.

And it was time. Time to do this right. Time to make him understand.

We tumbled through the door, my legs wrapped around his waist as I kissed the living hell out of him. His stubble scratched my lips and cheeks and I reveled in the rough sensations. I needed this man inside me as soon as humanly possible, and I didn’t care if it was on the tile floor.

He placed me down, putting his hands on his hips. “Don’t you rush me, Watson. I want to take my time.”

I ripped my T-shirt over my head, revealing my black lace bra. “Nope,” I said, unbuttoning my jeans and shimmying out of them. “I call the shots, Sergeant Sexypants, and I want you naked, now.”

He tipped his head back and laughed, a sexy, deep laugh that shot right to my core.

“I love it when you boss me around. I am going to have so much fun with you. Especially with you nearly naked in my kitchen.”

He effortlessly picked me up, cradling me in his arms. “But for what I’ve got planned, we need the bedroom.”

He dropped me on his bed, which was neatly made with crisp blue sheets. His room— actually his entire house—was neat as a pin, clearly a holdover from his military days.

Before I could even sit up, he was stripping, giving me the show of a lifetime. His broad shoulders were thick and strong and his chest was broad and covered with a sprinkling of dark chest hair. Fuck, I loved chest hair. I sat up, pulling at his waistband.

“Not so fast, Watson. It’s been a while, but I seem to remember you having the sweetest pussy. Be a sweetheart and let me have a little taste?”

His strong hands pushed me back, pulling me to the edge of the bed and pinning my thighs open.

He wasted no time pulling my panties to the side and feasting on me—licking, sucking, and caressing with abandon.

“You are something else,” he said, easing two fingers inside of me as I screamed out. “Sexy and dirty and sweet and perfect.”

I broke eye contact, feeling exposed by his compliments more than his actions.

“Don’t look away. You are goddamn irresistible.” He lowered his face again, sucking on my clit until I was thrown over the edge, clenching around his fingers as my eyes rolled back in my head.

I lay there, heart pounding and head spinning, for a few moments until the sound of him unbuckling his belt jolted me from my orgasm fog.

I sat up to see his thick, gorgeous cock right in front of my face. Instinctively I reached for it, wanting to get my hands and mouth on it.

Just like the rest of him, Oliver’s cock was big, proud, and full of surprises. He moaned as I took him in my mouth.

“Fuck, Maeve. I’ve dreamed about this—the feel of your smart little mouth on my cock. Shit, it’s too good.”

He attempted to push me back but I shook my head, taking him to the back of my throat and reveling in the sounds he made. I squeezed my legs together, attempting to quell the ache, the need for him. It had been weeks but my body remembered.

“Look at you. Squirming as you suck me off. You want this badly, don’t you?”

I looked up at him and nodded, my lips still wrapped around his girth.

He took a step back, pulling himself out of my mouth.

“Tell me you want me, Maeve,” he said softly. “I need to hear it.”

I looked up at him, strong and confident, yet vulnerable.

“I want you, Oliver. More than I’ve ever wanted any man.

I can’t stop thinking about the night we spent together, and I worry my mind is playing tricks on me.

I’ve never felt this way before. This all-consuming lust for someone.

I think about you and your big cock all the time.

You challenge me and confuse me and instead of trying to figure it all out, I just need to feel you inside me again. ”

I looked up, worried that I said too much, but the fire in his eyes only intensified.

He bent down, cupping my cheek. “You really are such a bad girl,” he said softly. “And I’m going to fuck you so hard. I promise, it will be even better than last time.”

I giggled as he pulled me up and kissed me hard before turning me around. “Hold the headboard,” he instructed, reaching for a condom.

I threw my hair over my shoulder, wiggling my ass. I heard the crack of his hand on my skin before I even felt it.

“That’s for teasing me,” he said, gently rubbing the spot.

“And that,” he said, spanking the other cheek, “is for sneaking out without saying goodbye.”

I bit my lip, loving this, loving his punishments and the liberation of being so sexually free. “Yes,” I cried, arching back as he rubbed his fingers along my seam.

“You are drenched.” He ran his fingers down my spine, lighting up all the nerves in my body as he gently eased inside me.

“Jesus,” he cried out. “Fuck, you are so tight and perfect. I thought I had imagined it. Imagined how incredible you felt wrapped around me.” His thrusts were already hard and deep, and I was holding onto the headboard, reveling in his rough touch.

“Yes,” I cried out, feeling myself tighten around him. “Just like that.”

“Babe, I can do so much better,” he growled in my ear, gathering a fistful of my hair and gently tugging.

My head arched back as he snaked his other hand down my belly, finding my throbbing clit.

The feel of the pressure on my scalp combined with his large thumb on my clit had me flying over the edge in seconds.

As he pounded into me I screamed , throwing my head back and convulsing in his arms. His pace slowed slightly as I came down, sweaty and spent.

“Oh, I’m not done yet,” he said, flipping me onto my back and grabbing my ankles. “I love the feel of you coming on my cock. Do it again for me.”

I wasn’t sure I could, but the sight of him between my legs, holding my ankles as he went deeper than any man ever had before, convinced me otherwise.

I would happily do whatever he told me to. And I was too orgasm-drunk to even consider the consequences.