by Bella King
I cleared my throat, which was dry from the rush of adrenaline. “You’re just acting strange, Oliver. First, you act like you want me, and then you push me away. Why can’t you make up your mind?” I asked.
Oliver shook his head and finally reduced the pressure on my shoulder. “We aren’t a thing. I already told you,” he said bitterly.
“And why can’t we be?” I asked, realizing that I was admitting to liking him.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips. I felt the hot breath on my face as he looked down at me. His eyebrows were tilted outward, giving an impression of suffering, but his teeth were clenched in frustration. “You need to watch your step very carefully. You don’t want to get involved with me,” he said.
“Why not?” I challenged. “I don’t buy your stupid ex-girlfriend story. I have a crazy ex, and I know what it’s like.”
That seemed to hit him hard, like a physical blow. He staggered back for a second before regaining his balance. “You don’t know the half of it. You’re nothing more than a clueless bitch that keeps crossing the line.”
“And you’re nothing but a bully,” I snapped back.
“I’m much worse than that,” Oliver said, tilting his head down and making intense eye contact with me. “I’ll ruin your life before you ruin mine.”
I grabbed his head and yanked toward my lips, planting them on his fucking stupid face so hard that my front teeth slammed against my lips hard enough to draw blood. I didn’t care. I was drunk and numb to the pain as I kissed Oliver.
His hand came up to my breasts immediately, the sensual treats he had been eying all night, and squeezed them roughly in his strong hands. I moaned into his mouth as I tasted his lips. His tongue pushed into my mouth, moving against the backs of my teeth and plunging deep in the back of my throat.
I wanted him more than I had ever wanted someone before. I was possessed with the desire to be taken, broken in by the man that I had sworn to hate. He a liar and a cocky asshole, but I wanted him to claim me as his nonetheless.
Oliver ripped open my dress from the neckline, tearing it all the way down the front. The fabric ripped loudly, the seams cracking and popping as he tore it down to my bellybutton. I gasped, taking in a breath as his lips left mine and he continued to ruin my dress.
“Take this fucking thing off,” Oliver demanded, stepping back.
My once perfect red dress was now hanging off my shoulder, ripped straight down the middle in an irreparable act of desperate lust and anger. I let it fall to my feet, revealing my braless breasts and small black panties.
Oliver feasted on my body with his eyes, flickering across the gentle curves that begged him to sink his thick cock inside of me and pump me full of everything he had. Once he had gotten enough of the view, he pulled his white cotton t-shirt over his head, revealing a chest full of vicious tattoos. They ran down to his stomach, snakes, and demonic beings etched permanently into his skin.
His abs shone through the black ink spectacularly, drawing my eyes in and distracting me from my own nudity. I was fascinated by his body. The sharp masculine muscle lines formed a V-shaped ridge down to his crotch. My eyes fell to the bulge in his jeans as his leather belt clinked upon.
He was huge, and not just in body size. His cock fell out of his pants like an anchor but sprung up with a sturdiness that signaled his readiness to bury that sucker deep between my legs. I never wanted to enjoy Oliver like this, but my instinct had taken over, and I couldn’t resist him any longer. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off him once he came toward me.
“Get in the bed,” Oliver demanded, pointing over to it.
I circled him, keeping a foot or two of distance as I slunk to the bed. I was unable to remove my eyes from his cock as he glared at me with an unparalleled intensity. This was it, the moment I swore would never happen but was fated to, nevertheless.
I reclined on the bed, propping myself up with both arms. Oliver crawled onto the bed, hovering over me with a seductive glare. I felt his hot breath on my lips as they moved in again. This time, he was the one in control.
My lips parted at the same time my legs did. The world outside this bedroom no longer mattered. What did matter was how I was going to handle this giant man on top of me.
Oliver’s hot hands ran down my body, riding every curve as his fingers gently graced my waist to my thighs. He pushed my legs open further with his muscular thighs, and slipped hand to my pussy. His fingers drifted to the center of me, and I felt a pleasure that resembled an electric shock as his fingers touched my core.
He used one finger to lightly rub my clit in circles, slathering the wetness that was dripping from me all over my entrance. His cock hung ready to mount me as he double tasked, kissing and massaging me to the point where my body was crying for him to plunge inside.
Oliver teased me, savoring every second of our slow dance into insanity. The pleasure rose in my body as I experienced the touch of a man again. I had never been taken this way. It moved me to have my body paid such delicate attention to, and it surprised me that Oliver was capable of that.
“I want you inside of me,” I begged.
Oliver’s crooked smile told me he wasn’t quite ready to do that. He had more planned for me. He pushed me back so that I was lying on the bed, legs open for him, and breasts moving like waves from the force of my fall. He took both breasts in his hands, covering them completely in his palms before squeezing the soft flesh.
Every move sparked more arousal from me. I moaned as he kneaded my breasts in his hands. He bent his head down to find a nipple, sucking it into his hot mouth and swirling his tongue around it. “Delicious,” he said once he popped the nipple out.
Both my nipples had formed firm peaks at his actions, and I was trembling in anticipation as to what came next. Oliver grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head up to his, and stared into my soul. “You’re mine now,” he growled.
I felt the prod of his cock at my entrance, and then the head slipped in. I gasped, keeping my mouth wide open and my eyebrows titled outward in an expression of pleasurable shock as he pushed into me.
“So tight,” he grumbled, thrusting in deeper.
I could barely contain my moans, and I knew I would be too loud, and someone would hear me. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was giving myself up to Oliver like this. I felt like his bitch at the moment, a toy for his pleasure, but I loved every second of it.
I placed my hand over my own mouth, attempting to muffle my cries of pleasure as he began to ram his cock inside of me. Oliver put more weight on me, holding me in place with my legs up in the air as he fucked me hard.
The gentleness had left his touch, and now it was free for all, with him pulled my hair and slamming his cock up in my pussy with such aggression that orgasm came quicker than it ever had with any man I had fucked or any toy for that matter.
My body exploded in pure ecstasy, a blinding white flash of the universe coming down me as the waves of pleasure rippled through my body like a violent storm. Oliver was holding back, trying not to cum too quick, but it was of no use. I felt his seed squirt inside of me as he pumped out everything he had.
Everything was a hazy blur. My mind was nearly melted into a puddle of useless glop from the intense sexual pleasure. I could feel my whole body relaxing in a way that I could never experience on my own. I took a deep breath in as Oliver collapsed on top of me, and let it out into an immediate slumber as he laid there, basking the afterglow of raw, unfiltered sex.
I felt complete for that brief moment before it all faded to black.
Chapter 18
I woke in my own bed, as though the night had never happened. It was a blur, but I remembered Oliver fucking the living daylight out of me before we both fell asleep in his bed. I wondered if it was all a dream, but my aching brain told me otherwise.
I lifted my head from the pillow, the familiar cranial pounding of a hangover warning me against drinking too much. It was a little too late for that, a
nd I was pretty sure I had done irreversible damage to my liver in the process. You live, and you learn, I guess.
Hangovers are one thing, but the consequences of having sex with Oliver would probably loom over my head for much longer. I hadn’t managed to get much real information out of him like I had originally planned, but I did confirm that there was something afoot. Everything he did seemed reluctant, and he had apparently carted me back to my apartment to sleep instead of letting me stay over at his.
I got out of bed to find myself in a set of what could only be Oliver’s pajamas. I remembered then that he had destroyed my dress in a sexual frenzy. Jesus Christ that had been a wild night. I needed to go find Mia and ask her what the hell happened.
Mia was predictable, standing in the kitchen again, making coffee. This felt like a repeat of what had happened the first time we had partied with Oliver, except far more extreme.
Mia spun around when she heard me enter the kitchen. “Fuck, Lydia! You almost gave me a heart attack,” she exclaimed, clutching her chest. “I thought you were still at Oliver’s place.”
“Huh? No, I was sleeping here. I thought you brought me back,” I said, growing confused.
I instinctively grabbed a bottle of pain medication from the counter and popped off the lid. This was becoming way too routine for my liking. I poured a few of the bitter pills onto my tongue and used the faucet to rinse them down my throat.
Mia grabbed another mug and poured coffee into two of them for us. “I guess Oliver took you back. I assumed you were sleeping with him.”
“So did I,” I said, rubbing the dry crumbles for the corners of my eyes.
“You had sex, though, right?” Mia asked, her face glowing.
I held my head in my hands and sat down at the table, slouching in the hard wooden chair. “Yes,” I groaned.
Mia shrugged. “I knew it was going to happen. Oliver is so into you. If it makes you feel any better, I shacked up with Jordan. Bigger talker, small wee wee.”
I laughed but quickly stopped as pain rushed back to my head. Sudden movements were a bad idea with this level of hangover. Once again, Mia seemed to have stayed more hydrated than me, and happily pranced over with two steaming cups of black coffee.
“How was the sex?” Mia asked.
I thought back to Oliver on top of me, pounding his massive manhood between my legs as he sucked on my nipple. “Fucking amazing,” I replied.
I lifted the too-hot coffee to my lips and let the warm scent waft into my nostrils before burning my lips on the edge of my mug.
Mia plopped down in the chair adjacent to me and blew the rising steam from her cup. “Lucky you. Jordan had one too many and couldn’t get it up. What’s worse was that his cock was kind of small. Not the best night, but not my worst either, I have to admit.”
I shook my head, not paying attention to Mia. I couldn’t with all that had happened. There was so much that I didn’t know, and the truth seemed to get further the more that I dug. “I don’t remember telling Oliver where I lived,” I said.
Mia shrugged. “You told him the wrong address last time.”
“Exactly. Why would he bring me here?”
“Because you told him the correct one when you were drunk?” Mia guessed.
The details were fuzzy enough when I was awake. If I was too drunk to remember what had happened after I fell asleep in Oliver’s bed, there was no way I had been able to talk to Oliver. I had to have been passed out. Things weren’t adding up.
“Mia, I think he’s stalking me,” I said.
Mia’s face deepened into a concerned frown. “We’ve been over this before, Lydia. One bad experience doesn’t mean every guy is like your psycho ex-boyfriend.”
“No, I really think he is. He sent Jordan to spy on me, and somehow he knows where I live even though I didn’t tell him. The only thing that throws me off is why he’s being so reluctant. It’s like he wants me, but he doesn’t at the same time.”
“The only way to find out if someone is stalking you,” Mia said, mischief crawling onto her face, “Is to stalk them first.”
“Counter-stalking,” I said with a grin.
“Exactly. If you want, I can help you,” Mia suggested.
I shook my head and took another sip of my scalding coffee. “No, I don’t want you to get pulled into this mess. I need to find out for myself what’s going on.”
“Fair enough, but don’t do anything dangerous. Keep an eye on Oliver and his boys, but if shit gets sticky, then call me.”
“I can handle myself. Better judged by twelve than carried by six,” I quoted.
“Nobody is dying, Lydia. You’re so dramatic,” Mia said, shaking her head.
I laughed, burning my tongue again with the coffee. It didn’t matter now, because I could barely taste or feel it anyway.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. It was likely another email from my ex, and I wasn’t going to entertain his lunacy when I was dealing with another case of it here. I had enough on my hands already. It was time to get to the bottom of this once and for all.
Chapter 19
Oliver didn’t attempt to contact me at all during the remained of the weekend. I kept peeking out of the blinds in my room to see if his red truck was riding past my apartment or sitting in the lot, but I came up with nothing at the end of the day. I figured he wouldn’t be that dense to sit outside and wait to be caught, but I wasn’t taking chances. I would everything in my power to catch him stalking me.
On Monday, I had classes again, and I found myself seated in Professor Lyche’s class, listening to her dry lecture about chemical compounds commonly found in houses from the 70s. I didn’t see Oliver in class, which was unusual because he was Professor Lyche’s assistant and he never missed one of her classes. I wondered if he was avoiding me.
I must have downed my entire thermos of iced coffee in under thirty minutes, and by the end of the lecture, my bladder was about to explode. I watched the clock, crossing my legs tightly to keep myself from pissing my jeans minutes before class ended.
As soon as Professor Lyche concluded the lecture, I was out of there faster than a pizza at a teenage slumber party. I grabbed my bag and thermos and flew down the hall to the bathroom. I smelled Oliver in the air as I entered the bathroom, but didn’t have time to look down the hall to see if he was watching me. I was too concerned with having an accident to counter-stalk the bastard.
As I sat on the toilet, my phone buzzed in my pocket again. I reached down the check it and saw another email from my ex-boyfriend. Jesus, he was really ramping up with the harassment, but it had been over a year since I had opened anything from him.
I was aware that he tracked whether I opened emails, since it was possible to do so for marketing purposes, so I didn’t want to give him the impression that I suddenly cared what he had to say, but I was growing curious as to why his messages had increased frequency at the same time I started to hang out with Oliver. Did he know?
Staring at my inbox, I could see a preview of the most recent email.
FINAL WARNING
That wasn’t the first time he had used that phrase. He often pulled that shit to try to fool me into reading his message, like the kind of spam ads that pop up on your screen while you’re casually browsing some sketchy porn site.
I closed out of the email app and put my phone back down in my pocket. Not today. I had enough to deal with already.
I finished my business and opened the door to the bathroom stall. I could still smell Oliver in the air, but it was fainter. He was probably already gone. I poked my head out of the bathroom door, receiving a few odd looks from students walking down the hall. I didn’t care. It was more important for me to keep my eyes peeled for Oliver or anyone from his posse.
I slunk off to my next class, changing my route multiple times and watching other students with heightened senses. There was no way someone could be creeping up on me with how aware I was of my surroundings.
; Fuck, that was him!
I spotted Oliver several yards away from me, talking to another student. I made eye contact with me, and he gave me a small nod. I changed course toward him, eager to confront him about what had happened on Saturday night.
Oliver waved the person he was talking to away, wrapping up whatever conversation they were having as I walked up to him. He looked handsome as always, but after what we had done, I was even more drawn to his dauntingly charming image.
My palms were sweaty, and I even felt guilty for being suspicious toward him when I arrived in front of him, only for him to flash me a winning smile.
“You look lovely today, Lydia,” Oliver noted.
Heat rose to my cheeks. I had wanted him to think so, but I hadn’t expected him to say it outright. I dressed up because I knew that I would be seeing him today, donning a tight pair of jeans that accentuated my plum rear and a fitted t-shirt with a neckline that crept down lower than I would usually like. For Oliver, I would walk to class naked if that’s what impressed him. I had to admit that I was head over heels for him.
“You look nice too,” I said quietly, looking down at my feet. I hated being this shy, but Oliver had that effect on me. I looked back up at him, trying to hold on to whatever sliver of confidence that I had left in me. “You weren’t in class today.”
“Yeah, I had some car troubles,” he said, but I could see straight through that lie. He was a terrible liar, moving his hands up to his disheveled hair every time he said something untrue.
“Did you take me back to my place on Saturday?” I asked.
Oliver nodded. “I was wondering how much of that you remembered. We had sex, just FYI.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know that.”
“You fell asleep, but I had stuff to do in the morning, so I took you home.”
“I was sleeping?” I asked, trying to catch him in a lie.
“Yeah, totally passed out. I was a bit worried, but you were still breathing and everything. Probably just tired from that crazy night we had.”
