His fingers skimmed her thighs, touching the hem of her dres..
🕑 Added 2022-12-06 21:24:36 +0000 UTC
His fingers skimmed her thighs, touching the hem of her dress. It was red and white with a dense wildflower pattern, coming up to the middle of her thigh, it had capped sleeves and tied at her bust, she’d worn the cardigan with it for a layer of modesty.
“I like the way you dress. Like a school teacher.” He was back to grinning. “Are you a teacher, Ms. Sinclair?”
“I was. I taught elementary grades before I moved here.” Olivia didn’t know why she was blushing, he was just asking her about her job and inspecting her attire.
He fingered the button of her cardigan before he undid it slowly and then the next and the next until it was undone and he could see the way the dress hugged her waistline before flaring out to accommodate her lower half.
Her heart pumped loudly in her ears as her heart hammered away. He toyed with the last button, taking her in as if she might be his next meal instead of the dinner they discussed. She never recalled him looking at her like that before. While he spoke freely with her, Olive couldn’t think of a time she’d ever caught him staring at her or even meeting her eyes. Nor did he ever lean in like he was now, faces inches away and as he fixated on her.
Thomas must have been suffering from delirium from his fasting because he kissed her.
It was a hungry kiss, hard and desperate for nutrition from her lips. He dropped the cardigan and clutched her thighs, bringing her from the couch to his lap in a swift motion. Delirium and dehydration had not affected his strength it would seem.
His tongue slid across her lips and she gasped, opening herself to him. He tasted the inside of her mouth, tongue entangling with hers. She must have tasted good because he did not stop. Olive moaned as his thumb stroked the inside of her leg, pressing in and writhing, itching to climb higher and higher where it would find an overwhelming source of heat.
“Fuck,” he breathed after she let slip a moan.
“Thomas,” she seized the reprieve to speak. “You-you’re…” He was hard. Not just hard, he was granite.
Thomas laughed, understanding where she was going with it. “Won’t that be the talk of the town, if I weighed in with a massive hard-on?”
“It isn’t funny!” She slapped his arm and turned crimson.
“No, I suppose not.” She expected him to push her off his lap but he didn’t, his thumb still drawing circles into her thigh. “Want to help me with it?”
“Let me get off you,” she naively suggested.
“That’s the last thing I want, Olive.” He emphasized exactly what he wanted by kissing her and grinding into the swell of her ass. She moaned and knew that the moths in her belly were bursting into flames again.
Using both hands he shifted her so that she straddled him. Olive whimpered as his erection pressed into her damp cotton panties. He groaned his delight and bucked up while pressing her down. His thumbs dug into her hips.
He repeatedly swore his favorite word under his breath as Olive bit her lip in between kisses to keep her moans quiet. They were dry humping on a couch like lust-struck teenagers at a sleepover.
“I want to fuck you,” Thomas put plainly when he released her mouth from a heated kiss.
