Page 55 of The One Where They Fall in Love

“That—” I say, my voice shaking. “That feels good.”

Oliver keeps his movements steady, watching my reaction. My urge to put on a show comes naturally, and I can’t shake the feeling like he somehow knows it. He would call me out on it. I relax against the bed and his hand slows.

I take a deep breath and sit up, pushing myself back towards the headboard. I open my legs as I rest my head against his pillows, his scent enveloping me.

Without either of us saying a word, Oliver reaches into his nightstand and slides a condom on. He kneels on the bed above me, a few stray hairs falling in front of his face. I reach up and push them back with my fingers, and Oliver hums as he presses his cheek into my palm. He hovers for a moment just above me, his arms on either side of my head, our breaths ragged. His eyes never moving from mine, he reaches a hand down and guides himself into me.

There’s pressure, and then a sense of completeness. I gasp as I feel him fill me completely, in a way that I didn’t know was possible. I squeeze his shoulders and he catches my open mouth in a kiss. I press my forehead against his while we both catch our breaths, and then he starts to move.

It seems like everything before this moment was a fog. Like what have we been doing since we met, if not this? Being connected to Oliver in every way possible feelsright, and I want to be as close to him as possible, in every way I physically can.

His hands play with my breasts as he moves his hips, and he leans forward so that more of him rubs against my clit. The moan that I let out at that sensation is nothing short of animalistic, but never has anything felt as good, as incredible, as this. He takes my leg in one hand and bendsit towards me, opening me further, his thrusts becoming deeper and more delicious.

I feel a tingle in my toes as he moves faster, a clenching feeling spreading through my belly. Oliver crushes his mouth against mine, tangles his hands in my hair, and my senses are in overdrive.

Feeling Oliver inside me makes me tighten more, as if doing so could make us any closer. I grab Oliver’s ass with one hand and scratch down his back with the other. Oliver curses. A lot.

“Fuck, Elle,” he groans, his head next to mine. He bites my neck right beneath my ear and I grip his shoulder harder, in disbelief that this kind of pleasure exists, and rage that I’ve never felt it before. I’m torn between craving the release and never wanting this to end.

“The times I’ve pictured this moment,” he whispers in my ear. He licks the spot where he just bit. “Never thought it would be likethis.”

That makes two of us.

“Oh my God!” I gasp, gripping the muscles of Oliver’s shoulders like they’re the only thing tying me to life. Oliver buries his face in my neck, and I open my mouth in a soundless cry, completely lost to the pleasure in the center of my body. My legs squeeze around his hips and my nails dig into his skin, his neck, his hair. I feel his warmth fill me, and the sensation pushes me over the edge. Every part of my body tenses, and for a moment I can’t breathe. I barely hear the words of encouragement he whispers in my ear, my senses reduced down to a single point. He kisses me hard, then tenderly, until there’s nothing left of me but a quivering mess beneath him.

I feel an emptiness when he slides out of me. He disappears for a moment, but I’m so blissed out I barely notice. When he returns, he wraps his arms around me and pulls us together, my bare chest against his, our legs tangled beneath the sheets. I don’t know how long he kisses me for, but I know I want it to be forever.

When he finally lays back, I rest my cheek on his chest, and we breathe together, and it feels like the air is a little bit easier to take in than before.

Twenty-Four

Oliver

There’s something surreal about waking up next to someone that you never want to leave.

In recent years, I’ve been so intent on not getting attached, for fear of someone getting to know therealme and wanting out. I’ve rarely entertained the possibility that I could ever be with someone long-term.

But as I stand here, the smallest ripples of sunlight peeking through the plain curtains of the apartment windows, making lines on Elle’s pale face, I realize something.

I don’t want to be apart from Elle Thompson.

And that is equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

I reach my hand out and gently smooth her hair away from her face. I don’t want to wake her up, but leaving a note doesn’t feel right after last night. And I want to see her eyes before I leave for work.

I manage to extract myself from the twisted sheets without waking her. Once I’m dressed, I kneel next to the bed and gently rest my arms on the mattress next to her.Her lips are pursed, like they’re begging to be kissed. But I’ve never kissed a sleeping Elle before, and I’m not sure if it would end with me being punched in the face. Knowing her, that is a very plausible outcome.

I caress her bare shoulder blades and see goosebumps start to spread across her skin. I lean forward and place a kiss on her shoulder, eliciting a quiet moan from her. Her eyes scrunch, but don’t open.

“Do that again,” she whispers in a hoarse voice. The corner of my mouth lifts up. I kiss her in the same place, letting my lips linger there for a moment longer. And then I blow a small puff of air on the spot.

A longer moan this time.

She rolls over, the sheet dropping below her breasts, and I’m struck again by how gorgeous she is. She smiles lazily before squinting her eyes open. When she sees me in my scrubs, she pouts.

“You’re dressed,” she mumbles.

“I am,” I say with a nod. I crawl my hands towards her and trace one finger over her breasts. “But you, beautiful, are not. And that isfuckingkilling me right now.”