Colder than Revenge

Chapter 4

Olivia

I don't know who this man is, but he is amazing.

I felt the resistance in Felix's posture once we left the reunion, and for a moment I was convinced that Nana killed the mood. It was a surefire way to remind Felix that we used to finger paint together and do our homework at the same table while my grandmother supervised us.

That brotherly relationship is not something I want to concern myself with. Felix and I were best friends back then.

Right now, we're fire.

How are his kisses so deep and passionate? I don't think I've ever been kissed like this my whole life, as if I'm the only thing that matters in the world. His body is so hard, filled with muscles and his lips scorch my skin. When he slips the suspenders off my shoulders and cups my breasts, I'm seconds away from coming undone.

He is so good at this, and I needed this so much. I still have my charm, I can still entice someone as fascinating as him, I can still... Oh God, his mouth is on my breast. And the things he's doing with his tongue...

A shudder runs up my spine and I can't help the moan escaping my lips. I can't be louder, not while we're still half out in the hallway and anyone could hear us. Anyone could see us. We should really step inside, but the thrill of being caught only makes things better. Hotter.

The euphoria washes over me, and my mind takes a well deserved rest from analyzing what this means. It's all about our bodies now, and I've been eying his ever since he stepped next to me in front of Betsy Coleman's table.

I pull his shirt out of his trousers and unbutton it as fast as I can. It's hard since he's pressed against me, but I'm deft with my fingers. Once I manage it, I run my hands over the ridges of his abs.

His body is as hot as I imagined, his skin soft. It's an intoxicating combination of power and sensitivity. I feel like he could give me everything I ever hoped for. Where has he been all my life? I don't think I've ever even come close to someone so sexy, let alone touch them.

It's so hard to contain myself.

I just want to climb on top of him, feel his hands on my thighs. Feel him against me, ride him out until we're both exhausted. It's been so long since I had release that I'm impatient about the foreplay. It's wonderful, his lips and tongue are moving in all the right ways, but I want more. I need more. For his touch to become a little rougher.

I want him to lift me off my feet and throw me on the bed.

I want to feel his weight on top of me as he unravels me.

Instead, his hands slip on my sides, resting against my hips, his fingers pressing into my flesh. He's not going further, not moving away from my breasts, and as much as I love what he's doing, I'm impatient.

I try to maneuver myself and reach for his crotch. He grabs my wrist, and before I know what's going on, he turns me around. I stick my hands out against the jamb to avoid crushing against it. His hands are on my breasts again as he pushes his pelvis against my ass from behind, trapping me there.

I can feel him. He's hard for me and it makes me moan again. He kisses me behind the ear and then starts down my spine, his hands still in place somehow.

Oh, God. I bite my lower lip, pushing myself harder against him. This feels amazing, but I wish I could touch him, too. So I twist and bring myself with my back against the jamb again. The sharp edge digs into my spine, but I hardly feel it. He places his hands on either side of my shoulders, leaning towards me, his eyes stormy. His breathing is labored and the passion in his gaze pushes me over the age.