Page 33 of Owning Olivia

Silas abandoned my nipples and undid my pants, pulling them down to expose my underwear, my plain, white schoolgirl underpants. I felt stupid for not having something sexier on, but I’d never had a use for lingerie before. He stopped, and a sly smile crept over his lips.

“These are pretty fucking hot,” he said. I wasn’t sure if he was being serious, until the bulge between his legs signaled just how serious he was. Silas leaned in and placed his nose on the white cloth and inhaled. I was self-conscious about the wet stain there and tried to squirm away. Silas grabbed my hips and kept me immobile.

“Where are you going, sweetheart? I’m not done with you, and I don’t think I ever will be.” Hearing Silas’s voice gave me a sense of comfort and I stopped trying to move away. He slowly pulled my panties down, exposing my sex to his unbridled gaze. He put his hands behind my back supporting my weight.

“Put your legs on my shoulder.” His tone was strong and authoritative. I moved my legs above his head unsure of how he was going to support my weight or what he was about to do. He nuzzled the inside of my thighs, his five o’clock shadow caused goosebumps to rise across my sensitive skin.

He teased my swollen flesh with his tongue, first delicately, rolling my clit in gentle circles, then alternating to penetrating me fully with his tongue, his mouth encompassing my sex. I rolled my hips, but his giant rough hands pinned me in place. My flesh heated to the point of stinging, while my whole universe whittled down to his mouth devouring my most tender flesh. The sensation ebbed and flowed, but continued climbing until I was shamelessly thrusting myself into his sinful mouth. I’d never forget how gut-clenchingly sexy he looked. He pinched my nipples and an orgasmic wave rolled through me, numbing my mind to only, his smile, his tongue, and the rhythm with which he thrust his tongue inside me.

I came on his face, my thighs squeezed together and felt the scratch of his stubble as the orgasm tore through me.

“Silas,” I said. I was breathless, had no words to fuel my voice.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he said. His voice was muffled, his head still dipped between my thighs.

“Let me see you,” I managed.

He raised his face enough so that I could see the crook in his eyebrow as he sucked my engorged clit into his mouth.

I screamed, and came so hard I thought we’d run Annie, or anyone for that matter, out of the house.


I didn’t think it was possible for my cock to get any harder than it already was, but hearing her scream like that, watching her claw her hands on the door, and feeling her legs shake uncontrollably, made me harder than steel. After she came, I kept licking her from top to bottom getting drunk on her magnolia scent and honeyed taste. She was intoxicating and I was a junkie craving the high. Her legs shook again gripping my head and holding it tighter to her pussy and she spiraled through yet another orgasm. As she was coming down, I could feel her body start to go limp from exhaustion. I placed my hands on her hips and held her tightly while she lowered her legs back to the ground. I stood, picked her up easily, and carried her to the bed.

Her hair spread across the pillow, her beautiful face was flushed with desire, and her bare body exposed innocently before me—she was the most gorgeous, stunning rose. “That was unbelievable,” she whispered. Her eyes were glazed over with a far-off look.

“I am not done with you yet. That was just my appetizer.”

“If I knew that an orgasm would feel like that, I would have had one a long time ago,” she stated with a sly smile on her face. I hadn’t realized she’d never had an orgasm before and I loved being the first to give her that pleasure. I loved knowing that I was the only man who’d made her come, I wanted it to always stay that way.

“I want you to only come for me.” I crawled in bed with her lifted her gently moving her into my arms and holding her close.

“Only, my cock, my fingers, my mouth.”

I loved the feeling of her softness against the roughness of my skin. She started to trail her fingers over the tattoos covering my left arm, but then stopped at my shoulders. Olivia regarded my scars as she did any other part of my body, looking at them with interest and then moving on. She never stared at them with eyes full of horror or pity, which was the reaction I was used to getting most of the time.