Olivia — Stop being a fucking whore

His words were sobering. They left no room for argument. It should be illegal, the way he mocked every man in his vicinity, knowing he was drop dead gorgeous and they were all just boys compared to him.

"I tried that earlier today, remember? You refused to stick it into me," I said, puckering my lips and blowing him a kiss before bending to his will and sliding into my seat.

He slammed my door closed and jogged over to the driver's seat. Now sitting next to me, his whole body turned towards me and he leaned in.

"Ouch," I said, wiping away a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with my fingertips.

Genuine concern flooded my body, despite Harmon having bled far worse for me in similar situations.

"You've got to stop showing up like this. You'll make me think I still have a shot, daddy."

I said this to him, eyes closed, on the brink of dozing off as I grabbed onto his tie and pulled him towards me. For better or worse, no matter what was going on between us, I was safe with him. Fuck my brain, heart and pussy for still thinking that way around this man after the way he obliterated my pride.

"Well you don't," he said pointedly, his fingers overlapping roughly with mine as he removed his tie from my grasp and put my seat belt on for me. "Believe me when I say I wish you would stop finding yourself in positions which require you to call. Grow up, Olivia. Mr. Hunter—"

"Doesn't give half as many fucks about who I screw as you do, Mr. Chancellor," I interrupted boldly, my eyes fluttering open to stare Harmon down.

Despite passionate facial expressions, Harmon did not rise to the challenge this time.

"Is that really what I am to you, daddy? A child? Even after you fucked me like a man fucks his woman?" I mumbled drunkenly, unable to stop the words from flowing.

"For fuck's sake, Olive," He seethed. "Stop fucking being a whore."

The gnawing ache between my legs thay started when he invaded my personal space intensified as he moved back, jaw set in anger when he started the car.

"Never bothered you before," I said with a giggle.

"Well it bothers me now. Are you fucking happy?" I could have sworn I heard him spit out.

"Then take me with you and make sure I'm good for you, daddy," I mumbled.

If he responded, I didn't hear it. By this point I had dozed off.

Harmon sped down the busy roads of LA, leaving me on the verge of throwing up by the time the car stopped. I found myself in a familiar garage. This brought a smile to my face despite how sick I felt. Harmon had elected to bring me back to his.

"No need to ruin Will's delusions of you becoming an adult by having him see you like this tonight," Harmon chided, unbuckling my seat belt.

He got out of the car, then came over to my side to open my door for me.

"Is that the only reason I'm here, daddy?" I asked, taking the warm hand he offered me to help me get out of the car.

"You think I'd fuck you in this state while being sober myself? Jesus Olive, what do you think of me? Get the fuck out of the car," he demanded.

Losing patience, he pulled me towards him and shut the door with the sole of his shoe, before taking me into his arms bridal style.

Those words left no room for argument. Experience had taught me he was taking me upstairs just to dump me on the couch for the night, but my body was not as clued in. My panties got wet the moment my feet left the ground. I all but swooned as he carried me over to the elevator.

Back up in his apartment, the very place we had our night together, he laid me down on the couch like I was precious cargo.

The pain in my chest intensified. What was worse, I was crazy turned on. Felt cared for and like I mattered.

We came face to face once more as he covered my body with a blanket.

"Don't pull any weird shit tonight. I'll be gone tomorrow. A month is enough time for this to blow over. It's going to be okay, Olive. We're going to be okay," he said dotingly, cupping my cheek.

I could feel his eyes on me. His body lingering by my side. For a moment there, he had me thinking I'd get a steaming goodnight kiss.

Just as I was about to force my eyes open to see if I could make it happen, his phone rang, breaking the spell. Only one person called him this late at night.

"Tell Macy I said hi," I mumbled groggily, turning my back on him.

I heard my name mentioned several times in the back and forth between them, unable to tune out their argument despite it happening in his bedroom. It was all I could do not to cry out his name for her to hear as my fingers slipped past the fabric of my thong.

I laid back, rolled up in a blanket kissed by his scent. Too turned on for tears, I slid two fingers into my pussy, wishing they were his dick.

Look what you do to me, Harmon Chancellor.

The next few minutes were a euphoric blur as I fingered my wet pussy to fantasies of him nailing me rough and hard. In and out of my fuck hole my fingers pumped relentlessly, speeding up rapidly, desperate for quick release.

"Harmon, yes daddy, yes," I moaned into the cool night. "He wouldn't have felt as good as you. Nothing does. I fucking loved you inside me. Heaven. Hell. God. Devil. Mr. Chancellor, you're everything. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. YES, PLEASE BABY, YES."

"Please what Olive? Tell daddy what you need," his voice filled my ears as my climax approached.

"More daddy, more, more," I begged desperately. "Please Harmon, just a little more," I said in between ragged breaths, jamming a third finger up my cunt, pumping furiously in and out of myself, using my other hand to rub my clit.

"Come take what you need, baby girl. Let daddy fuck your horny, frustrated pussy. Come get my dick, Miss Hunter," his voice spoke once more.

It was enough to send me over the edge. My pussy was soaking wet, desperate to cum, but I held off.

"Yes daddy, whatever you want. Take my pussy again. Fuck it good and hard," I slurred, tossing the blanket off me.