27; A trip down memory Lane

Freya’s POV

He mounted my breast. I was overwhelmed with pleasure as he added another digit to the finger going in and out of me.

His gaze was dark with pleasure, lust swimming in those orbs of his.

I threw my head back, the sound of my moans getting louder as he used his thumb to circle my clit while his two fingers were in my pussy, driving me closer to the edge. I was close, tingles ran through my skin, my toes coiling in pleasure.

“Faster,” I pleaded. Fisting his shirt in my hands since I didn’t know what to do with my hands.

He pulled out his finger as I was about to cum. “You don’t get to come till you beg for it like a good whore you are” he nibbles on my ear lobe. My heart beat faster, my nipples pebbling at the feel of his breath on my skin.

His words were working their way down my body, his downgrading felt like praise to me.

“I am not going to beg you to let me come” I muttered weakly, leaning against the wall, my head still in a mess from the pleasure he had given me.

“Suit yourself, you would go to bed with the thought of me in your head, imagining me railing into you hard and mercilessly” he whispered seductively. He was right, I wouldn’t be able to get myself off tonight, I needed something more—something he would be able to give me.

The frustration of not cuming overriding my sense of pride “Please Oliver, let me cum” It sounded so weird but the groan that came from his throat told me otherwise—he loved it and thought it was hot.

He shredded the leggings I had on, nudging my knees apart “Now lay down on this sofa, I am going to make you come so hard, my name would be the only thing on your tongue”

His fingers trailed ghostly up my thighs—increasing at every heartbeat.

“Oliver,” I moaned.

“Now you are getting there”

His tongue continued exploring my soft skin, piling me closer to the edge of the sofa. Fisting my hair, he yanked my head back, eliciting a soft moan past my lips “I am going to make you plead, kitten”

My eyes widened in pleasure as he licked the trail down my thighs and relished the taste of my skin.

He could probably sight the arousal coming from my pussy.

“What dirty things should I do to you?” I shivered, my nipples peeking up from the words he had uttered.

“Please, touch me”

Giving my lap a little bite, he ran his knuckles through the side of my breast.

“Is that all?” Smart ass, he knew what I meant when I said he should touch me yet he wanted to play games with me.

“You know what I mean” I grumbled, trying to rub my thigh together for a little friction.

“You either say it, what you want in detail or I stop” he threatened.

“My n-nipples,” I muttered.

“Yes?”

“Suck on them” he bent his head low and took my nipple into his mouth, closing his teeth around the bud. My nipple hardens at the sudden attention given to them.

A ragged moan tore out of me. I was on cloud nine.

His fingers continued their journey through my body. In the short moment he had touched my body he had already turned a master of it—he knew where to touch me and how.

My hand tightened around the hem of his T-shirt, My pleasure came crashing down all at once as I came.

“I am anything but done, kitten” he put his fingers in his mouth and licked it clean.

I sat up in a frenzy. That wasn’t a dream, it was something that had happened some days back, he had promised me he was going to do dirty things to me.

What was the purpose of the dream when it was indeed a reality? The gods were indeed mocking me—They knew I couldn’t have him and sought out ways to torment me. To make me feel that pain of rejection over and over again

I dragged my feet lazily out the door of my room, heading into the kitchen.

The most famous couple stood in the kitchen. Oliver was making dinner while she sat there watching him with a smile on her face—They seemed like the couple everyone said they were—perfect.

She looked at me “Hey Freya” she greeted happily with her all too fake smile. I nodded my head at her sitting on the empty stool beside her.

“Good morning” Celine greeted also coming in to sit beside me. She had been avoiding me since that incident. She must have thought she was a threat to my safety even though she had put me first that day.

“Hey,” I whispered to her.

She raised her eyes to meet mine “Hey” and went back to tapping her phone screen.

I was the only awkward one here, everyone had something to do while I was here looking around for something to give attention.

He served us each a plate of pancakes adding syrup to her plate while leaving us to serve ourselves.

Their overly display of affection was sending my stomach in knots, wanting for me to throw up on the breakfast I was yet to have—but I doubt anything would come out. I would probably just halve.

“Bitch” Celine muttered under her breath as she cut a piece of pancake and directed it to his mouth.

He looked at the pancake and looked at me, maintaining eye contact with me. He let her put it in his mouth—he had wanted me to see. What a childish asshole.

He stood up and kept his dish in the basin without saying a word to anyone he left the kitchen.

Her smile slipped away from her face—I guess I was right she was a fake bitch.