Chapter Thirty-one
Robyn
The rest of the week in Barcelona had flown by in a whirl of passionate sex, beautiful sunsets, and delicious dinners. I’d been well and truly spoilt rotten, but before I could believe it, it was over, we had boarded our flight, and within two hours had arrived back at my apartment building.
Maintaining his role as the perfect gentleman, Oliver insisted on carrying my luggage inside for me, even though I only had one small case. The gesture was sweet, so I didn’t complain. Besides, it meant I got to spend a few more minutes with him before we parted, so I clung to his hand and absorbed the delicious tingles that his touch caused in my body.
He placed the case down outside my door, and I began to search for my keys at the same time as wondering what would happen next between us.
Had he meant all those impassioned declarations about us being exclusive? Or had they just been well spun lines, effectively delivered to help secure my place in his bed for the week? I was usually pretty good at judging people’s intentions, but Oliver was still such an enigma to me that I really couldn’t tell.
Finally, I dragged my key from my bag. I pushed it into the lock, but then hesitated, dug up my courage, and turned to him. If I didn’t ask him now, I’d definitely be stewing over it later.
‘So, now we’re back, what happens?’
There must have been something telling in my tone, because Oliver lost his smile and stared at me for a few seconds, his face completely unreadable, before he drew in a long breath through his nose, and frowned. ‘What do you mean, Robyn?’ His voice was low, almost the tone he’d used when he was in his Dom role, and it sent an instant shiver of lust slithering through my system.
‘I just wondered, you know … Before we left you didn’t really want anything beyond helping me with my book research, and Barcelona was amazing, but … I wondered if maybe you might have changed your mind about it now that we’re back home.’ I was rambling dreadfully, and snapped my teeth shut, hoping I’d at least managed to make some sense.
Oliver’s shoulders expanded on a breath, then he took a step towards me, causing me to step back and bump into the door as his body entered my space, seeming impossibly tall as he leaned down over me. ‘I’m a little thrown by this line of conversation. We agreed to exclusivity, Robyn. A relationship. You must recall our talk? Or are you the one changing your mind?’
His words would have relaxed me, but with his close proximity and heated stare all I felt was extreme arousal as it flooded my system like a tidal wave. ‘No, I’m not. And I do remember … but I wasn’t sure if it was just a line to get me into your bed for the week.’
Oliver exhaled a dry laugh, and slid his hands around my waist, lowering his lips to my neck. ‘If I had simply wanted to get you in bed, I’m fairly confident that I could have achieved that without using any “lines”. But that is not all I want.’ He trailed his lips up my neck, and across my jaw until they reached my mouth, where they brushed back and forth several times over my lips. ‘Not at all.’
I gripped at his suit lapels, scrunching up handfuls of the expensive material as my legs grew wobbly from the intensity that always surrounded us when he was feeling purposeful like this.
‘You, me, together. Exclusive. I meant every word.’ He rubbed the tip of his nose across mine, then he dipped his head so our eyes were level and locked. ‘I trust that is still agreeable with you?’
Thrilled, I nodded jerkily, a smile skipping to my lips. ‘Yes. Most definitely, yes.’ As soon as he had my agreement, Oliver cupped the back of my head and dragged us together, his tongue thrusting into my mouth, and my lips surrendering immediately as a breathy gasp rose in my throat.
Behind my back, the door suddenly gave way, but Oliver’s arm encased me. He pulled me firmly against him, preventing me from falling.
‘I heard a key, are you struggling with the …? Oh!’ I was vaguely aware of Sasha now standing behind us, but Oliver’s kiss was so all-consuming that I didn’t even bother to acknowledge my flatmate.
Oliver continued to grip me, turning us sideways and backing me into the adjacent wall, hard. If his arm hadn’t been around my back and the other cupping my head, I think his move would have knocked some wind from my lungs, but as it was, he protected me, all the while kissing me deeply and thoroughly.
Sasha was still loitering like the complete perv that she was, and although I could have stopped Oliver and spoken to her, I didn’t, because he felt too bloody good pressed against me. He was now grinding his hips against mine, tongue searching and exploring deep in my mouth, and my hands were sliding across his back and gripping his arse to pull his hard groin closer to mine. If we’d been naked, we would have practically been having sex right in front of her.
‘I’ll just … um … leave you guys to it …’ There was a quiet click of the apartment door closing as Sasha left, then the only sounds in the small hallway were our raised breaths and some low, sexual groans.
Oliver continued to practically hump me in the hallway for another minute or so, before dragging his mouth away on a growl. ‘Dios, what are you doing to me? I never lose control of myself like this, but with you …’ He left his sentence unfinished, as if mulling it over in his mind, and stepped back slightly. I noticed that his hands still lingered on my hips, as if he were physically unable to fully tear himself away from me yet, and that idea thrilled me.
‘Can I see you tomorrow?’ he asked, his face softening into the gorgeous relaxed smile that had been commonplace during our trip. Before Barcelona, he’d been so careful with his facial expressions that, apart from the occasional slip, all I’d really seen was his carefully constructed mask of control and authority that he wore at Club Twist.
Now, though, I felt like I’d started to see the real Oliver Wolfe; excited grins, sweet smiles, affectionate softening of his features as he spoke with his family, not to mention the blissed-out look that swept over his face as he reached an orgasmic peak while I was wrapped around him.
I couldn’t help but reach up to stroke my thumb across the curve of his lips. This was my favourite of his looks. Mind you, the intense, dominant expression he used when telling me to get down on my knees was definitely on my favourites list, too.
‘I’d love that. Maybe we should go to your place, though. That way we can avoid Sasha and her untimely interruptions.’
Instead of laughing, as I had expected, Oliver frowned, and shook his head. ‘Maybe, but my house is a complete tip. Let’s meet at the club and decide on our plans from there.’
I couldn’t imagine him as a messy person, but I shrugged and nodded. As long as I was with him, I didn’t really care where we spent the night. ‘OK, I’ll come down with Sasha. I suspect she’ll want to use up all of her free entry vouchers.’
‘Perfect. How many vouchers do you have left?’
I played with the lapels of his jacket, smoothing them across his chest and trying to straighten out the scrunched-up damage I had done earlier. ‘I don’t know, a few.’
‘Are you going to join?’ he asked tentatively. ‘I can get you permanent entry, if you’d like. I’d happily pay for your membership?’
I’d need to decide fairly soon if I was going to join or not, because once our guest vouchers were gone that would be it, no more entry. I didn’t like the idea of him paying for me, though, it would almost be like he was paying me for sex.
Forcing a smile to my lips, I loosened off my tension, but shook my head. ‘Thank you, but if I join I’ll pay for it myself. You’ve already treated me to far too many things over the last week.’
He raised an eyebrow as if about to challenge me, but then conceded with a nod. ‘Very well, as you wish. Now, as much as I’d like to stay, I really must go to work.’
That had been far easier than I’d expected. From the look that had crossed his features I’d thought he would be more stubborn about paying for my membership, so it was quite a relief that I didn’t have an argument about money to contend with.
I rolled onto my tiptoes and placed a brief kiss on his lips, already knowing that I was going to miss him dreadfully the minute he left. ‘OK, I’ll see you tomorrow night.’
Nodding, Oliver raised a hand and stroked my cheek, looking just as reluctant to leave. ‘Thank you for an amazing week,’ he murmured, before dragging his thumb over my lips and turning to walk away.
Licking my lips, I watched Oliver’s retreating back and couldn’t help but bite down on my lower lip, still able to taste the remains of his kiss there. That man, my man, really was something else.
‘Ho-ly fuck a duck!’ Sasha exclaimed behind me, as I heard the apartment door flying open.
‘Hmmm. Yes, quite,’ was the only reply I could manage.
As he turned into the stairwell at the far end of the corridor, he glanced back in my direction and caught me staring at him. My cheeks heated, but Oliver grinned, winked at me, and was gone. There was no way my body, heart, and soul were going to survive him.
Once he had disappeared, I winced in preparation for the onslaught I knew I was about to receive from my bestie, and reluctantly turned to face her. As expected, Sasha stood behind me with flushed cheeks and her mouth hanging wide open.
‘You went away, adamant that you were “just friends getting to know each other,”’ she shrieked, making quotation marks with her fingers. Then she grabbed my hand and dragged me inside the apartment.
‘I don’t have any friends who kiss me like that!’ she giggled, clearly loving the gossip that was playing out before her eyes. ‘Come, sit, I need details. So, things have obviously developed while you were relaxing in the Spanish sun?’
Dumping my case down inside the door, I nodded. ‘Yeah, they have,’ I confessed, grinning like an idiot.
‘I knew they would! The chemistry between you two is scorching! So, did you shag him?’
‘Yup.’ I had tried to be nonchalant, but Sasha made an excited gurgling noise, all the while clapping her hands joyfully like a performing seal.
‘Yesss! And was I right?’ she asked eagerly, leaning forwards in her desperation for details.
‘About what?’ I asked, confused, and barely able to keep up with her quick fire-questions.
She opened a bottle of water, took a swig, then waved her arms around as if it should be obvious what she was talking about, but with Sasha’s jumbled way of thinking, nothing was ever obvious. ‘About him being an older man and shit-hot in the sack?’
‘Oh, that.’ I gave a shrug which was meant to be carefree, but probably ended up looking awkward and uncomfortable. ‘No and yes.’
Sasha spat out a mouthful of her drink and slammed the bottle down on the coffee table. ‘He wasn’t good in bed? Seriously? From the way he just kissed you out there I would definitely have put him in the nine out of ten bracket, skills-wise, possibly even an elusive ten.’
I grinned, keen to set her straight. ‘You’re right there, he is amazing in bed,’ I corrected her. ‘I said no, because I still don’t know how old he is.’
‘Oh.’ She looked perturbed by this nugget of information and moved back slightly. ‘You didn’t ask?’
‘Oh, I asked all right, he just wouldn’t tell me.’
‘Really?’
‘Mm-hmm, just said he was “old enough to know better”.’
‘Better than what?’ she asked, repeating the exact words I had said to Oliver.
‘Better than to get involved with a “determined sprite” like me. Apparently, it was a compliment.’
‘Sprite? Like an imp?’
I shrugged, still not entirely sure what he’d meant, either.
‘Wow. Intriguing. But he was hot in the sack, yeah?’
Grinning, I nodded, embracing the flush on my cheeks for once, instead of feeling betrayed by it. ‘Oh yeah. A definite ten. Fuck, Sash, he was out of this world good!’
Sasha did a little gleeful jig on the spot, then collapsed on the sofa. ‘Oh man! This is so awesome!’ She fanned her face, her grin now matching mine. ‘The way he just threw you against the wall and kissed you like you were the air he needed to live? Fuck me, Robyn, that was seriously hot. Is he always that intense?’ she squeaked, grabbing my hand.
‘Yeah…’ was all I said, but internally I was agreeing with her wholeheartedly. That kiss had been volcanic in its levels of heat, and yes, Oliver was always that intense.
‘So…’ Sasha leaned in even closer, her voice lowering as a wicked twinkle lit in her eyes. ‘Did you do any kinky stuff?’
‘Um, yeah. Some.’ I was happy to talk about my relationship with Oliver, but giving Sasha full-on details of the most intimate parts of it was still a level too far for me.
‘Really? Did he whip you?’
‘What? No!’ I screeched, appalled at the idea. ‘Oh my God, is that even a thing people do for pleasure?’
She shrugged, sipping her water again. ‘Apparently. I quite like the idea of it.’
‘Jesus. I don’t. No. No, he didn’t do anything like that.’ But I think I now had something to add to my hard limits list that Oliver had talked about. Whips? I don’t think so.
And so it carried on, Sasha firing questions at me so rapidly that I could barely keep up, and me answering most of them, while still trying to come to terms with the fact that I now had a boyfriend. A kinky-arsed, absolutely gorgeous, slightly OCD boyfriend. But a boyfriend nonetheless.