by Ravenna Tate
“Start wherever you need to start.”
The place was so quiet and comfortable. It felt homey, despite the lavish furnishings and decor. That sensation had to be coming from Oliver. He projected an aura of intelligence, peace, and security. Those last two were desperately needed right now.
“I don’t remember my father. My parents divorced when I was three, or so I was told by my mother. She drank a lot, and then started taking pills, too. We never really talked. She didn’t pay much attention to me other than to make sure I went to school and ate something once in a while. I learned early on to take care of myself.”
“That explains why you’re so resourceful and can work without constant supervision.”
“I suppose so.” She took a deep breath. You can do this. “She had a lot of boyfriends. They came and went more often than I bothered to keep track of, and for the most part they ignored me. I always suspected my presence might have been the reason most of them didn’t stick around, but I don’t have any proof of that.”
He nodded, saying nothing.
“When I was twelve, I was already developing. I mean I looked like a girl. You know. I had boobs and curves.”
She saw him swallow, and a look of sympathy crossed his face. She had to blink back tears.
“That was the first time one of her boyfriends tried to crawl into bed with me. I screamed my head off, and she heard me. He was gone in less than five minutes and she apologized over and over, promising me it would never happen again.”
Blair was having trouble taking full breaths. Spots danced before her eyes, and she struggled to hold the demons at bay. Just long enough to get this out. Please.
Oliver moved closer and put a hand on her arm. That simple gesture calmed her somewhat, and although she was amazed by that, she didn’t stop to analyze it. Blair knew if she didn’t get all this out at once she never would.
“She was usually quite drunk when she brought the men home, and she went out more often the older I got. I wanted to put a lock on my bedroom door, but she was paranoid about something happening to me and not being able to get inside.”
Oliver made a soft noise of disgust, and she was grateful he didn’t state the obvious stupidity of that reasoning.
“The first time … the only time one of them raped me was when I was fourteen.”
He moved closer still and stroked her upper back.
“I didn’t tell my mother. I don’t know why. I was afraid, and ashamed, and so conflicted about her lifestyle I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to turn for help. I thought if I told a teacher or any adult at school they’d take me away from her, and then who would take care of her?”
Oliver nodded again.
“I mean, she had no one else. The men were a joke. None of them really cared about her, as far as I could tell. She wouldn’t have been able to rely on any of them for help.”
“You were the caregiver.”
She nodded, trying desperately now not to cry. The sensation of panic was gone, replaced by overwhelming sadness that she hadn’t been able to help her mother at all, in the end.
“I went to my family doctor and lied, telling her I’d had sex with a boy at school who was having sex with other girls, so I could get tested for STDs and get on the pill.”
“Oh, Blair…”
“I know. Horrible, isn’t it? But it kept my mother from possibly being arrested, and it kept me from being placed in foster care which, let’s face it, might have been much worse.”
“I understand. I really do.”
“I also put a lock on the door. I didn’t care what she said. So it never happened again because I stayed out of sight, and when one of them tried to get inside, I screamed until she came and threw them out of the apartment.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She swallowed hard. “It worked for us. I mean, it was a horrible way to live, but it served its purpose.”
“Did you date at all? Did you have any sort of a normal relationship?”
“I dated in high school, but I seemed to pick the losers. My shrinks have all told me I chose them because that was all I knew. I don’t know if that’s true or not. I only know they wanted nothing from me other than sex.”
“Did you give in?”
She had to avert her gaze for a second or two. When she looked at him again, she still didn’t see disgust or anger in his beautiful eyes.
“Sometimes. I thought if I’d found one that cared about me, things would change, but I was always wrong. A few encouraged me to drink and tried to get me to take drugs with them, but I had already seen what those habits had done to my mother. I drank some beer a few times, but that was only to try to fit in. I’d feel like shit the next day, of course.”
“When did you start seeing a psychologist?”
“After my mother died. I had graduated from high school six months earlier and was still living at home and working at a fast food place. The revolving boyfriend phase was winding down for her, but that was only because she was drunk or high, or both most of the time and stopped going out as often. One day while I was at work, she fell and hit her head. I found her dead when I got home.”
When he put his arm around her, Blair couldn’t stop the tears this time. They slid down her cheeks as she continued.
“I couldn’t afford the apartment on my own, but it turned out I didn’t have to worry about it. The storms had started, and I knew I had to leave. I found the job advertising for customer service reps, and applied. I moved underground and stayed in a shelter the first six months I worked for you, until I could afford the apartment I have now.”
He looked grief stricken. “I had no idea you were living in a shelter.”
“No one did. I didn’t tell anyone. When I realized all your company actually did, it sounded really cool, so I began taking classes. Earning my degree took so long because of course I kept working. I haven’t really dated much since then, other than Donny, but that’s because I’ve been so afraid. Not of sex, but of my own demons inside. Does that make sense?”
“Yes. Yes, it sure does.”
“I’ve been afraid of being hurt again, or of making yet one more huge mistake. I’ve gone through a lot of shrinks but no longer see one regularly. They all said the same thing. I’m a victim, but I need to shed that image and visualize a new persona for myself. Easier said than done.”
“I agree.” Oliver pulled her close and wiped the last of her tears. “Blair, I know how difficult that was to tell me. Thank you.”
“I had to.”
“I wish I could find the bastard who raped you. I’d kill him.”
She looked into his eyes. “You don’t have to. He’s dead. He died of a drug overdose less than a month after it happened.”
“Did you tell her about the rape after he died?”
“No. It would have devastated her to know she hadn’t been able to keep me safe after all.”
“It’s not right that a fourteen year old girl had to make such an adult decision.”
“I know that now. At the time, I didn’t think about it in those terms. I’d always taken care of her, and in my mind, that was simply part of what I’d always done for her. I protected her.”
“She should have been protecting you.”
“I realize that now.”
“No one ever has, have they? No one has protected you. No one has really cared for you.”
She had to blink back fresh tears. “No, I don’t suppose they have. Not even Donny did. I thought he would, which is probably why I married him, but I was wrong. Again.”
“And the panic attacks are likely all that trying to resurface, Blair. Not that I’m an expert or anything, but you’ve never really had a chance to deal with all this.”
She took several deep breaths. “I’m not having one now. I don’t even feel like I might.”
“Is that the first time you’ve been able to talk about this and not have one?”
“Yes. I usually had t
hem in a shrink’s office, or at least had the beginnings of one. That’s when they’d each try to teach me visualization techniques, and the internal monologue I use now.”
“Did you feel like you’d have one when you first started telling me?”
“Yes, but it went away without my having to do anything. That’s the first time that happened.” Hope began to build. She desperately wanted to allow it to blossom.
“What’s different this time?”
She gazed into his beautiful eyes. “You are, Oliver. You’re what’s different.”
He pulled her closer still, and she closed her eyes, relaxing against his warm, hard body. She felt a sense of peace that was foreign, especially considering all she’d just shared. She was also overwhelmed by his calm, protective response. She’d pictured disgust and regret. Instead he’d merely listened and held her. He hadn’t judged or reproached her for the way she’d handled things. Such an experience was entirely new, and very refreshing.
She wanted him. It might be the worst possible time, and she had no idea what any of the psychologists would make of it, but the desire was real and it was strong. He was the only man she’d ever gone out with who had seen the person inside, not merely her outer shell or her body. And now he knew the worst of her past, yet he was still here. What could be more normal than to give herself entirely to this man?
Maybe doing so would break the spell? Maybe she could begin to heal? And maybe, just maybe, she’d finally found the one man on this planet who would protect her and—dare she think it—love her?
Chapter Nine
Blair moved up to her knees, and before she lost what little nerve she had, she kissed Oliver right on the lips, parting hers so his tongue could slip inside. He pulled away and cupped her face, the lust blazing in his eyes.
“Are you sure about this? We can wait.”
“I don’t want to wait. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Make love to me, Oliver.”
He moaned loudly and smashed his lips against hers, shoving his tongue into her mouth. She groaned deep in her throat, desire coursing through her at lightning speed. Her pussy was soaked and her clit throbbed. She’d never been this turned on, but she loved it. It was heady and exciting. It made her feel beautiful and sexy, and the fact that the man kissing her like he might never be able to do it again was Oliver, only made it better.
His hands moved down her back to her ass, grasping her cheeks and then kneading them roughly. He released her mouth and planted tiny kisses and bites along her jaw, then down her neck. “Oh, Blair. I have dreamed of this for so fucking long.”
He had? “Me too.”
He sat back, shaking his head slightly. “Condoms are upstairs. Shit. I’ll be right back.”
Before she could say anything, he was sprinting up the elaborate wrought-iron staircase. She listened to his shoes on the tile, and then waited, not allowing the doubt or fear to creep in. This guy would not hurt her. She was going to have an amazing time with him. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. He knew the worst things about her and he still wanted her.
When Oliver returned he was barefoot, and she moaned softly. There was something so damn sexy about a barefoot man. He dumped a box of condoms and a bottle of lube on the table next to the sofa, and then he grinned in a way that had her pussy wet all over again.
“Now, I’m ready to make love to you.”
He kissed her again, rougher this time, but she didn’t mind at all. He was so fucking sexy in the way he moved his mouth over hers. When he released her mouth and planted kisses along her neck again, she pushed her body against his, desperate to be skin to skin.
Oliver pulled off her top, nuzzling his face between the cups in her bra. “This is very pretty, but it needs to go.” He unhooked it with one hand, forcing another soft moan from her at the expertise of his gesture, and then he pulled it off her and tossed it onto the floor. “I knew you’d be fucking exquisite. I just knew it.”
No one had ever called her body exquisite. Fat, yes. Lush, definitely. Curvy and full were both used alongside not so thinly veiled suggestions to lose a few pounds so she’d be healthier. But exquisite? Never.
“You’re so damn sexy.”
He grasped her breasts and teased the nipples with his teeth and tongue, taking turns, making such satisfied noises in the back of his throat that she was sure she’d cry from happiness. She’d never had this experience before. This worshipping of her body as though it was meant to be treasured, not merely taken and then made fun of, or picked apart and critiqued.
“Oliver, thank you.”
He looked into her eyes tenderly. “For what?”
“For being like this. For making me feel so … so wanted.”
He brushed a finger along her face, sending shivers down her spine. “Oh, Blair. I do want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time. You’re beautiful. I mean that. It’s very hard right now to hold myself back. I’m dying here.”
She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “So am I. In a good way, I mean. I’ve never been this turned on.”
His sweet, sexy smile sent fresh arousal racing through her. He licked her breasts again, paying attention this time to the undersides, and then he pushed her down until she was on her back, and peeled off her Capri pants, panties, and sandals. He sat back on his heels, his gaze traveling lazily over her, the same smile still on his face.
“Damn. You’re more beautiful than I pictured.” He took his dick out of his jeans and pulled on it. “I don’t know where to go first.”
Blair’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. She watched him stroke his cock, mesmerized by the length and width of it. Red, swollen, and glistening with pre-cum already at the tip, it grew in his hand. She couldn’t stop staring at it. Oliver pleasuring himself this way, like he did it all the time in front of people, was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
When he released his dick, he moved his hands over her thighs, up and down, then gently spread her legs. He turned her torso toward the edge of the sofa and sat on the coffee table, his cock still free, and licked her inner thighs.
Blair cried out loudly, the desire climbing to crazy levels now. With each pass of his tongue, he moved closer to her labia, until he licked them, too. She whimpered softly as he teased the opening to her wetness with a finger, and when he slid it inside her pussy, she clamped down on it, trying to make herself come.
He made soft noises in the back of his throat as he licked her clit, over and over, while moving his finger in and out at the same time. “Oh, baby. You taste like heaven.”
Blair didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. Tears streamed down her face. No one had ever done this to her so sweetly, so gently, with the obvious intention of making her come. And come she did. Blair clutched his head and bucked her hips into his face as the contractions ripped through her, strong and hard. She could hardly breathe.
He didn’t stop until the last one had died, and then he moved her so she was lying lengthwise on the sofa again, and leaned over to kiss her. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth and she tasted her own pussy juices, but she didn’t mind.
She watched, fascinated again, while he slipped on a condom, and then he was between her legs, teasing her soaking wet pussy with his sheathed dick. “I want to fuck you, baby.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I want that, too. Fuck me. Please.”
With a load groan, Oliver sank his cock into her, and Blair cried out at the fullness. He grasped her breasts and thrust slowly at first, watching her face while he played with her nipples, his eyes filled with passion and such happiness.
No man had ever looked at her that way. This entire experience was unlike anything Blair had been through, and she knew that no man would ever take his place. There was no one like Oliver. He was the man she’d dreamed of. The prince who would come and rescue her from the frightening life she led. He was the man she’d prayed for to make her feel whole again, and teach her how love was supposed to fee
l.
He was real, and he was inside her, making love to her in ways she’d only fantasized about before this night.
His thrusting increased, and he moved his hands to her hips, lifting them higher so he could plunge deeper inside her. He rubbed her clit with his thumb now, a smile on his face. “You’re going to come again, sweetheart. I can feel it.”
That was all it took. Blair cried out as another orgasm crashed over her, this one longer and less intense, but still amazing. He moaned loudly and fucked her faster, his face red now. Droplets of sweat sprayed her, but she didn’t care. She never wanted him to stop.
When he came, it was loud and intense, and she rode the waves with him, wishing they could do this all the time. She’d never imagined sex could be so much fun, and so mutually satisfying. No one had bothered to work this hard to make sure she also had a good time.
He lay face down over her, breathing heavily, his sweat mixing with hers. When he sat up, he winced as he pulled off the condom, tossing it onto the floor. Then he gathered her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.
“Please tell me you enjoyed that as much as I did.”
She hugged him tightly, wrapping her arms and legs around his body. “Oh my God. Oliver, it was the best ever. I mean it.”
“Blair, it was magnificent. More than I fantasized it could be.”
“Did you really fantasize about me?”
He pulled back to look at her. “Of course I did.”
“I fantasized about you, too.”
His smile was brilliant. It lit up the entire room. “You have no idea how that makes me feel.”
“Tell me.”
He kissed her deeply. “Like I’m the fucking sexiest man on the planet.”
“You are the fucking sexiest man on the planet.”
His laugh almost sounded embarrassed. “Well, I don’t know about that, but I love that you think so.”
She hugged him tightly again. “I never want to leave this sofa.”
“We don’t have to. I’ll ask my staff to bring all our meals here. We can put them on the table and simply reach over and eat in between our lovemaking.”
