Hard Working Hero (Hard Working Hero 1)

Page 15

This is torture. Slow, painful, torture that's tearing me apart. Every inch of my being needs this to end. I can't take another second of him teasing me.
“Please,” I say, my voice as soft as trees whispering in the breeze. “I can't take it. Fuck me, please fuck me.” I'm begging him. Begging him to set me free. Begging him to relieve me of this ache eating me alive.
Oliver growls as he releases my wrist, slipping his hand down my arm and grabbing my hip. Flipping me around in one quick spin, I plant open palms against the wall as he yanks my hips back, forcing my back to arch.
The crinkle of a wrapper fills the void of sound. Looking back over my shoulder, Oliver slides a condom down his thick shaft. The thin material looks like it's struggling to hold him inside.
He presses his tip against my entrance as his hands clutch my hips. In one sharp thrust, his cock spreads me open, hitting me so deep I can feel him in my belly. The pads of my fingers grip the wall as he pistons his hips, fucking me hard but with utter slowness.
Oliver slams his cock in, holds still for a single breath, then slowly pulls back out. The ridge of his crown almost breaks free, but I won't let him out. My walls clench tight, holding him inside, refusing to let him go until I come.
Everything about this moment is sending me into overdrive. The sound of my blood pulsing is like a drumbeat in my ears. I can feel my muscles as they buzz with electric pops. I can feel the air as it seeps into my lungs, and the heat as I exhale.
This man does things to me I've never experienced before.
I don't know what to do with these feelings. They rush in, taking over like a storm at sea. Adrenaline rolls through my body like waves, hitting me all at once. Laying my face against the wall, I close my eyes as his dick drives in and out with vigor.
Oliver grunts hard, digging the tips of his fingers deeper into my skin. He holds me up on the tips of my toes as my knees start to buckle and my muscles begin to loosen. I moan loud, unable to control my voice. I have to let it out. I have to give him everything I have.
My body. My voice. My pleasure.
I'm his right now. His to take and toy with. His to own and enjoy.
My clit throbs hard as the orgasm rushes in, sweeping me off my feet. My legs go numb, and I hold my breath as the sensation zips from head to toe. I'm shaking all over. The intensity hitting me like a freight train.
“Fuck yeah,” he says as he releases one hand and tangles it in my hair. Tearing my head off the wall, Oliver groans as his cock pulses in my body.
His length throbs, swelling and contracting as he comes hard. He doesn't move. Oliver leans over with his hand still in my hair and whispers, “Tell me you're still giving me the cold shoulder now.”
Giggling, I twist and look over my shoulder. “You took advantage.”
“Ha,” he laughs out loud, untangling his fingers from my hair and taking a step back. “I made your day.”
“I'll let you think you did. But we both know I made yours.” Winking at him, I pull up my pants. “Can we get some work done now?”
“Yeah, I guess we probably should.”
“So, what do you want me to do?” I ask, walking back to the table with the cabinets.
Oliver peels the condom off and wraps it in a paper towel. Tossing it in the trash, he grabs a small paint can and a couple of brushes. “Well, you can stain these. I sanded them right when I got here. Then we can move them outside to dry and sand the other set of three.”
We spend the next hour talking and laughing while we work. It's nice to connect with someone on a personal level. It's been a long time since I've felt comfortable enough to open up even a little to anyone at all.
Oliver tells me how his father was a handyman, a guy who would always fix things himself. He talked about how he remembers the first time his dad let him use a hammer and how it felt right in his hand.
“That's where you get your talent from,” I say.
“Maybe. I'm not as big of a fixer as I am a creator.” He gives me a smile as he shrugs his shoulder. “My father would fix his own car, didn't matter what the problem was. I can't do that. I'll just take it to the mechanic.”
Our conversation moves smooth and easily. He flirts some, coming up close behind me to look over my shoulder at how I'm doing, then he gives me a little kiss on the neck or he nibbles my earlobe.