I see a man. A man who I want to love. And a man who I want to love me . . .
I know it’s not possible, that I’m too young, and he’s too worldly, but in this moment, I sort of tremble with the knowledge that I still want it nonetheless. At least for tonight. For this night.
“Callan . . .” I whisper.
“Kiss me, Olivia,” he whispers, huskily now, and with that, I crack, and I raise my lips to his, kissing him with everything I’ve got, with everything I feel, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my mouth to his, fair and square, tongue and all.
I let all of my confusion, all of my lust, all of my wanting, all of my waiting pour into this kiss. I let it all go. I focus on him, his soft yet firm lips kissing me back just as hard and just as passionately.
He tears his mouth away from mine, only to place it on my neck, and I feel him travel lower, toward my breasts, as though my kiss unleashed his hunger full-on.
I moan.
He brings his mouth back up to mine and we start to kiss again, and we don’t stop for what seems like an eternity.
His tongue slips between my lips and it’s warm and wet, and it makes me want it someplace else. I moan again and wrap my hands around his neck, welcoming his kiss.
He picks me up and turns us around so he’s sitting and I’m straddling him on the couch.
I rub against him, never breaking our kiss. Soft breasts to hard chest.
I feel him hard between my legs and I ache for more.
I grind on him a couple more times and hear him curse under his breath.
"Fuuck." He hisses
His hands grip my ass and press me against him, as if he knows I need more.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he says against my lips.
I kiss him in response, holding on to him, my fingers threaded in his soft hair, pulling his head closer to mine.
He puts his hands underneath my dress and grips my thong-clad ass.
He breaks the kiss and looks at me. “What have we got under here?”
“What . . .? What do you mean ‘what’? My underwear.”
His hand rubs against my naked ass cheek, challenging what I said.
I roll my eyes at him and he chuckles.
I take his hand and lead it higher, to the bow on the back of my new thong.
He arches an eyebrow. “Let me see it.”
His fingers rub the satin of the bow on my ass, and I sit there and let him, looking into his eyes.
“It’s not red,” I say regretfully, suddenly wishing it were.
“Show me,” he says, rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip.
“Show you what?” I whisper, concentrating only on how hard he is between my legs and on his beautiful eyes staring at my mouth.
“Your underwear,” he says.
I laugh. “What are you, fifteen?”
He grinds me against him, reminding me that he is most definitely not fifteen, and I gulp.
He plants a kiss on my cheek before leaning back and placing his hands behind his head, apparently waiting for me to dismount him and show him my underwear.
I’m about to ask him if he’s serious but the look in his eyes stops me.
He looks like he’s about to unwrap the greatest present Santa ever gave him. Life ever gave him. He looks like a starved lion about to eat his first meal in days.
He looks like he is about to attack me.
And I am loving every second of it.
And I’m about to make him die for it.
This is why you got the underwear in the first place, Olivia . . . who cares if it’s not red? He doesn’t seem to care.
I try to pump myself up because I’m about to strip for this deliciously sexy man who is basically fucking me with his eyes right about now.
I get off his lap and hear him moan in protest.
I smirk.
I get up and walk so that I’m a couple of feet away from him.
I look him straight in the eye as I start to slowly slip off the straps of my dress.
I see him gulp.
I reach behind me with one hand and slowly draw down the zipper of my dress.
I let the dress fall so that the whole top half of my torso is exposed.
I look down and see my tight stomach, and my full breasts decorated in the black lacy bra.
I run my fingers along the edges of the bra’s cups and play with the straps, letting one fall down my shoulder. I look at Callan, and his eyes are fixed on mine. His pupils are so dilated, his eyes almost look black.
I pull down the other strap of my bra and take a step toward him.
“You still haven’t shown me what you’ve got under there . . .” Callan teases. But his eyes are serious.
“Shh, be patient,” I say.
I unzip my dress the rest of the way down and let it drop to my feet.
I hear Callan inhale sharply and I see his eyes make their way down my body. I’m left standing in my thong, my bra, and my high heels.
I hear Callan curse under his breath. He stands up and makes his way toward me, but I raise my hand to stop him and take a step back.
I unclasp my bra and let it fall down as well, the cool air that meets me making my nipples pucker, and I see Callan’s eyes flare at the sight.
“Do you like what I’ve got, Callan?” I ask.
He smirks, and takes another step toward me, to which I respond by taking another step back.
“Jesus, Olivia, let me touch you,” he growls, and takes another step forward.
I shake my head no, and take another step back, before turning away from him and bending over and taking off my high heels. I unfasten the straps and slip them off my feet, one by one, knowing each second Callan has to wait to touch me will drive him even more crazy. Also knowing Callan is enjoying a very, very nice view of my ass.
I turn around and trail my hands from my breast and lower to my stomach. I slip my fingers inside of me and start to pleasure myself. I go faster and faster.
My breathing is heavy and I look at Callan and he's the same. I could see his buldge popping out and him slowly touching it up and down.
“That’s it,” he roughly whispers.