Exposed by Fate (Serve #2)(49)

Eliza’s hand slid around his and tugged the bottle toward her, so it hovered just above her chest, before turning it over and letting the liquor dribble onto the tops of her breasts. “Don’t let it go to waste, Oliver.”

Her challenge hung in the air as he lifted her with an arm around her waist and licked every drop from her warm flesh, delving his tongue below the neckline to graze her pointed nipples. Need roared in his head like a gale wind and she was the eye of the storm. In the midst of his lust, he felt pride in Eliza. So confident now. Secure in her appeal. If he’d had anything to do with her transformation, his oncoming misery wouldn’t be for nothing.

Her jerked Eliza higher and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He continued to devour her breasts until she arched her back and let them spill out of the dress, removing any barrier between her and his mouth. “You gorgeous girl. You delicious girl,” he muttered against her flesh, tongue circling her nipples before drawing them hard into his mouth. “Tell me again how you loved sucking my dick.”

“I loved it,” she moaned. “I wanted you to love it.”

Oliver groaned, unable to keep his hands off her ass a second longer. He peeled the tight, red material over her ass and kneaded the flesh he revealed. No panties. Good girl. “What about here, Eliza? Are you sore from your punishment?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

He wedged his hips between her thighs and bounced her up and down twice, letting her feel the steel of his cock. “Too sore to f*ck, babe?”

“No.” She bucked against him, making her breasts bounce right in front of his mouth. “No.”

“Thank God,” he rasped. Dammit, how could he be this close to her heat and not pound her against the closest stable object? If he didn’t get her into his bed, he’d regret it, though. He wanted to wake up with her smell around him tomorrow morning and pretend just a little longer that she’d stayed. That the last couple weeks weren’t an elaborate dream. With a concerted effort, he walked them toward his bed while Eliza alternated kissing his neck and trying to rip his shirt off. Her * cradled him so perfectly, he could feel her dampness through his pants, seeping onto his cock, making him f*cking crazed to get inside her.

Savor this. Savor her.

Oliver laid her down in the middle of his bed, his pulse racing at the sight of her there. Finally. They worked together to drag the dress off her body, before he shucked his own clothes in a hurry. Eliza’s lips parted on a whimper when he dropped his briefs, her thighs parting to reveal the spot he’d been fantasizing about since the moment she left him Saturday night. Four days. He hadn’t been inside her or tasted her in four days and he felt like he’d been imprisoned, a man without an escape. His desperation must have been clear on his face because her eyes were wide as silver dollars, nipples still damp from his mouth hardening into tight peaks.

He knew what she expected of him. A lesson. Something that would teach her what to expect in this new life she wanted to live. Without him. Sweat beaded his forehead. He opened his bedside table and stared down at the range of toys. Leather cuffs, blindfolds, riding crops. As he rolled a condom down his hard length, he stared down at the objects within the drawer until they blurred into a void. He slammed the drawer shut. Was there anything in this world that could make an experience with Eliza better? No. Not right now, at least, when he would resent anything that came between them. Anything that represented an intrusion.

“Oliver?”

He looked down at her and groaned. Innocent curiosity was written in her expression, this girl who’d consumed his mind. His heart. That would be her lesson. When she walked away from him, she would know what his love felt like, even if he never said it out loud.

Starting at the base of her neck, he trailed his fingertips down between her breasts, over her belly, to stroke between her thighs. Her legs fell open like flower petals, and her hips rose to meet his hand. So perfectly. “If we had been alone last night, I would have soothed you here with my mouth after I made it sting. I hate knowing it went a full day without an apology from my tongue. I plan to make up for that now.” He circled her clit with his middle finger, watching as she tossed her head back and gasped. “I won’t take you with my cock until you’ve accepted my apology by coming on my lips. On my tongue. As many times as it takes.” Starving for her taste now, he climbed onto the bed and pushed her knees wide. “But I will be taking you with my cock, Eliza. You’ll be apologizing to me for making me so hard. For making me use my hand to come more in the last two weeks than I have in thirty-one years. And for all the times I won’t have the privilege of f*cking you in the future.”

He didn’t wait for her response, but delved between her legs and fastened his mouth to her clitoris. And sucked. And sucked. She went wild underneath him, screaming and writhing with such ferocity, he had to grind his dick into the mattress. Her voice went hoarse from begging him to stop, to keeping going, to repeating his name over and over. The screams only registered dimly, the taste of her was too intoxicating, too pure, it pulled him into a state of single-mindedness. Make her come. Make her come again. Oliver lost himself as he traced her slit with his tongue and pushed inside, using his fingers to pet her clit. Fingers ripped at his hair, dug into his shoulders. More. A sound managed to break through his sensual fog and he realized he’d been growling against her *.