Mag-log inMarius’s head fell back, eyes squeezing shut at pure ecstasy washed over him. The controlled executive melted away completely, replaced by raw, uninhibited desire. “Fuck yes, just like that,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. One hand tangled tighter in Clare’s hair while the other gripped the desk so tightly his knuckles turned bone white. The rhythmic suction of her lips sent shockwaves through his entire system. Every nerve ending focused solely on the incredibl
Harper looked over at the clock on the nightstand which said it was 9:46 PM. “I should probably put on that shirt now,” she said softly. “So, we can go to bed.” Oliver groans playfully at the reminder of the time, his body still heavy and relaxed from their lovemaking. “Already? I was hoping to keep your right here all night.” He rolls off her reluctantly, stretching out on his side to watch as she sits up in bed. The sight of her naked body in the soft lamplight makes him want to pull her back down immediately. “Fine, but you are wearing that shirt to bed and nothing else,” he says with a smirk, reaching over to grab the black t-shirt from where it fell onto the floor earlier. “I want to wake up tomorrow morning and see you wearing my clothes in my bed.” He tosses the black t-shirt onto her lap before flopping back against the pillows with a content sigh.Harper pulls the shirt over her head and then settles in besi
“Say it back,” Oliver whispers urgently. “Tell me you love me while I am making you mine completely.” His hands move to grip the headboard above Harper’s shoulders, giving himself leverage to push into her slowly inch by agonizing inch. Each movement is deliberate and controlled, allowing her body time to adjust and stretch around him. “I do,” she muttered. “I love you.” His entire body goes still at her whispered confession, the raw vulnerability in her voice hitting him harder than any physical sensation. His blue eyes lock with hers in the dim bedroom light, emotion swimming in their depths. “Say it again,” he whispers roughly, his voice thick with unshed tears. “I need to hear you say it while I am making love to you properly.” He begins moving then– not the frantic pace of earlier but a slow, deliberate rhythm designed to maximize pleasure for them both.Each stroke is a deliberate claim
Back in Oliver’s bedroom, Harper stands completely naked in front of him, her dark blue dress pooled at her feet. “Are you sure you want me to put this black t-shirt on now?” she asks teasingly. “Or should I put it on a bit later?” Oliver’s blue eyes darken with obvious desire as he takes in the sight of her standing completely naked before him. The playful challenge in her voice sends a jolt of heat straight to his groin. “Much later,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I want to memorize every inch of your right now.” He stands up from the bed; his movements deliberate as he closes the distance between them. His hands find her hips again, pulling her flush against his bare chest. “The shirt can wait,” he murmurs against her lips. “First I am going to lay you down on that bed and explore every part of you that is been hidden under those clothes all day.”Oliver’s fingers t
Marius’s gaze swept over Isabella’s figure appreciatively before meeting her hazel green eyes again. “I hope you are prepared to deliver on the promise, Isabella. My expectations are high.” “Is that a challenge?” she asked with a smirk while sliding onto the backseat. Once they were both in the backseat, she leaned against him and her hand was already on his groin. His breath hitched as her hand boldly cupped his growing erection through his trousers. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, his yellow green eyes gleaming with challenge in return. “Consider it an invitation,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky register. “I like a woman who knows what she wanted and is not afraid to take it.” His own hand came to rest on her thigh, thumb stroking the smooth fabric of her black dress. The car moved smoothly through city streets, headlights flashing across their faces in brief intervals.“Tell me, Isabella,&rdq
Around Midnight Marius left to go home, but on his way, he decided to stop at a bar. Inside the small, rustic bar, the lighting is low and cozy, with a golden, amber glow. Several people are seated closely together on bar stools, their backs mostly turned toward Merius. They are dressed casually– t-shirts, jeans, and simple tops– suggesting a laid-back social setting. One man in the middle wears a patterned shirt and sits slightly hunched forward, engages in a discussion about football. Towards the middle-left, there is a man standing and playing an acoustic guitar. His posture is relaxed and some of the other people in the bar are paying attention to his performance. Marius walks toward the wooden bar counter, polished and warmly lit from above by hanging lamps with dark shades. Behind the counter are taps, bottles and bar equipment.The walls are dark and decorated with framed pictures, posters and various memorabilia contributing to a cozy, slightly eclectic fe
Oliver’s shower is quick but thorough, the warm water helping to clear his head from the lingering adrenaline of their earlier encounter. He dries off and pulls on a pair of black sweatpants, running a hand through his damp black hair as he glances toward the bedroom where Harper is working. The apartment feels different now– more lived-in somehow. Her bag in the living room, her laptop and paperwork scattered across his study– these are signs that she is making herself at home here. It is a comforting thought that settles deep in his chest. He pads back into the living room, grabbing the throw blanket from where they had abandoned it earlier. The fabric still carries their combined scent– sweat and arousal and something uniquely them– and he brings it to his nose for a moment before draping it over the back of the sofa. Oliver settles onto the couch with his book but finds himself unable to focus on the pages.An hour passes before Harper came o
“I am ready,” Harper says quickly. “Do not hold back.” Oliver’s breath hitches at her eager consent, his entire body going taut with anticipation. “Thank fucking God,” he breathes out, his voice shaking with relief and desire. He reached for his wallet on
Oliver’s hands tighten possessively on Harper’s hips, pulling her flush against him so she can feel exactly how much she affects him. The initial tenderness from moments ago has been replaced by a simmering desire. “I would never fire you for having an opinion,” he says fi
“Forever sounds good,” Oliver whispers, his voice steady and sincere. Their lips meet again, the kiss deepens, becoming slower and more intimate as they explore each other’s mouths with leisurely curiosity. Oliver’s hands roam Harper’s back, tracing the curves of her
Oliver’s hands migrate from Harper’s back to the hem of her dress, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of her thighs. The sensation makes him pull back just enough to look at her, his breathing heavy and uneven. The reading glasses are now hanging precariously off one ear, but he doe







