Smut chapter ahead, skip if you can't handle it.
The sudden force caught him off guard. His hand immediately went to her thigh, gripping hard, sliding up the smooth skin under her gown. His other hand fisted in her hair as if anchoring himself, pulling her closer, drowning in her kiss.
The taste of her made him groan deep into her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers, hot and desperate.
She gasped when his hand moved higher, fingertips brushing dangerously close to the curve of her hip. She didn't push him away, instead, she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, holding him there, refusing to let him go.
The kiss grew wild, messy, every sound between them amplifying, the soft slap of lips, the muffled moans, the groans that rumbled from his chest.
Then, in the middle of it, Oliver suddenly stopped. He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard, his body trembling with restraint.
"Athena…" he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Are you sure about this?"
Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at him, lips red and wet from his kisses. She didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
That single word made him lose his mind.
His mouth crashed back onto hers, hotter, hungrier, as if he couldn't hold back another second. His hand slid fully under her gown now, calloused fingers tracing the smoothness of her thigh, moving upward until he touched bare skin that made her jolt and moan into his mouth.
His other hand squeezed her breast again, harder this time, his thumb flicking over her nipple through the silk until she arched against him, her breath coming out in desperate, broken sounds.
"Oliver..." she moaned, gripping his shirt tight, as though the world was falling apart and only he could keep her steady.
He groaned in reply, kissing her deeper, pushing her further into the counter, their bodies molding together as if nothing could separate them now.
Oliver's hands trembled slightly as he slid them up her sides, his lips never leaving hers. But then, slowly, carefully, he pulled back, his gaze dropping down to her pink nightgown.
Her chest rose and fell, heavy and quick, the thin straps of the gown slipping down her shoulders as if begging to be removed.
With one deliberate tug, he slid the straps down both arms.
Then the gown slipped past her waist and he pulled it down entirely until it fell on the floor.
Oliver's breath caught.
Her full, round breasts bounced slightly with the release, her nipples hard and pressing against the delicate net of her bra. The sight punched the air out of him.
"Fuck…" he groaned under his breath, the was sound raw, like he was fighting for control.
Athena flushed red, her teeth still biting into her lip as his burning gaze devoured her. She felt stripped, but at the same time, something deeper inside her thrilled at how undone she was making him.
His eyes traveled down her body slowly, taking in every inch of soft, pale skin, until they landed on the tiny net panty clinging to her hips. The thin fabric barely covered her butt, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
His jaw tightened, a low growl rumbling in his throat, as though the sight was both heaven and torture.
Athena shivered under his stare. Her thighs pressed together unconsciously, her body betraying her even as she tried to remain still.
Oliver lifted his hand, brushing the back of his fingers along her waist, then lower, tracing the delicate lace of her panty.
Her breath hitched, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Oliver…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
He looked up at her then, his eyes dark, intense, swallowing her whole. The heat in his gaze made her feel naked, like the last scraps of fabric between them didn't matter.
"You have no idea…" he muttered hoarsely, leaning close enough that his breath fanned against her lips, "…how many times I've imagined this."
Her lips parted, her face burning, and before she could respond, his mouth was on hers again, rougher, hungrier.
Athena's arms wrapped around his neck, her nails digging into his shirt as he kissed her breathless. Every move of his lips, every touch of his hands sent fire through her veins.
Athena on the other hand, Oliver made her lie back against the cool marble of the counter, her breath catching as Oliver's hands slid down the straps of her bra with a deliberate slowness, as though he wanted every second to torture her. The silk gave way easily, and when the lace finally fell away, her breasts bounced lightly, the sight pulling a low, guttural groan from Oliver's throat.
His gaze darkened, drinking her in like she was the only thing that had ever existed. "God, Athena…" his voice rasped, deep and heavy with want, as though her body alone could undo him.
Athena bit her lip, her chest rising and falling, unable to handle the heat in his eyes.
Oliver leaned in, his lips brushing over the swell of her breast before his mouth closed around her. The warmth of him, the pull of his tongue, sent a sharp shiver down her spine. Athena's head fell back, a broken moan slipping past her lips, the sound raw and unguarded.
"A..ah f...fuck."
Each sound she made, each breathless plea, only fueled the storm inside him.
When his hand finally skimmed down her waist, hooking under the band of her lace panties, Athena tensed, anticipation shooting through her veins like lightning. Slowly, achingly slow, he tugged the delicate fabric down her thighs, leaving her bare under the harsh kitchen light.
He stepped back just enough to look at her, and his breath faltered. Her legs, parted slightly on the counter, her skin flushed, her body trembling beneath his hands, it stirred something in him.
Athena felt his stare burn against her skin, and her half-closed eyes fluttered as if even meeting his gaze would set her ablaze. Her lips parted, soft and breathless, while her fingers slid up to cup her breast, a nervous, instinctive act that made Oliver groan low in his chest.
He leaned forward, crowding her against the counter, his mouth brushing along her jaw, down to her neck, kissing, sucking, tasting her like she was a sin he'd chosen to commit.
Her breath hitched, her body arching as his hand slid lower, hovering, so close to where she ached for him most. The anticipation itself was unbearable, her hips shifting, begging silently for his touch.
Oliver hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to the edge of the counter, spreading her thighs wider with a rough but careful push. Then he buried his face in her heat.
The first long stroke of his tongue sent a violent shudder through her body. Athena gasped so sharply it was almost a cry, her fingers tangling into his hair, pulling, clinging like he was the only thing keeping her tethered.
Her breath came in quick, uneven bursts. "O—Oliver—" She couldn't even finish his name, it dissolved into a moan, one that made him groan against her in answer. The vibration shot through her core, making her thighs jerk helplessly.
He was slow at first, deliberate, tasting her in circles and, cruel in how he teased, he pulling away before she could tip over. She whimpered in frustration.
Then he changed.
His mouth grew rougher, hungrier, devouring her like he'd been starving. His tongue pressed harder, faster, stroking in devastating patterns that tore sobs of pleasure from her throat.
Her whole body arched off the counter. Her hands clutched her breasts, squeezing tight as if grounding herself, her nipples straining against her own fingers as she trembled and moaned.
"God—I can't—" she gasped, shaking her head wildly, eyes squeezed shut. Her thighs quivered, trying to close, but his strong hands forced them open wider, holding her there, making her take everything he gave.
Her body was on fire, the pressure inside her coiling tighter, tighter, until her nails dug into his hair, pulling desperately as she gasped his name again and again, each syllable falling apart on her tongue.
"Oliver—ah—please—"
The words drove him mad. He groaned into her, which made her shiver until she came undone for him.
The climax hit her like a storm.
Her back arched violently, her legs clamped around his shoulders, trapping him there as a cry ripped out of her throat.
Oliver didn't stop until she sagged against the counter, chest heaving, her body limp from the aftershocks. Only then did he lift his head, lips wet, his dark gaze locking on her flushed face.
"You don't know," he whispered, voice hoarse, "how long I've wanted to taste you like this."
Athena was still breathless from the storm Oliver had pulled her through but before she could steady herself, he slid one hand down, his thumb brushing across her swollen clit with a featherlight touch that made her jolt violently.
"Oliver—" she gasped, her voice shaky, torn between begging him to stop and begging for more.
He smirked, low and dangerous, his voice gravel rough. "Shh, baby… you're not done yet."
His finger pressed deeper, slipping easily against her slick heat, exploring, circling, teasing without giving in. She whimpered, her thighs shaking.
Then, slowly, he slid one finger inside her.
Athena's breath caught, her body tightening instinctively around him. Her head fell back with a choked moan, her lips biting down on her own wrist to stifle the sound.
Oliver groaned, his forehead dropping against her inner thigh. "Fuck… so tight," he muttered, almost to himself, like the discovery was undoing him.
He moved carefully at first, curling his finger, drawing it out, then sliding back in with a steady rhythm that had her thighs trembling uncontrollably.
He continued to pleasure her until she shattered again.
Athena was still trembling, her body weak from the storm he had pulled her through.
Oliver withdrew his fingers slowly, slick with her, and before he could even lower his hand, Athena grabbed his wrist. She lifted his fingers to her lips, her gaze never leaving his.
Then,deliberately, teasingly, she licked.
Her tongue traced over his fingers, slow and sinfully wet, tasting herself without hesitation. When she wrapped her lips around them and sucked hard, Oliver's eyes went dark, his breath catching in his throat.
"Fuck," he hissed, his jaw tightening, his body jerking slightly at the sight. For a second, just a second, he swore it was his cock she was sucking, not his fingers.
Athena saw it in his eyes. She smiled against his skin, pulling back with a soft pop, her lips glistening. Then, with that same wicked smile, she leaned closer and brushed her mouth against his lips, her voice a husky whisper. "You liked that, didn't you?"
Oliver groaned low, his hand tangling in her hair as he kissed her rough and hard, his tongue claiming her mouth. His control was slipping fast, too fast, and when he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed against hers, his voice was strained.
"If I don't stop now, Athena…" his breath was ragged, his eyes burning into hers, "I might do something I'll regret."
Athena's lips curved into a dangerous little smile. She tilted her head, her voice dripping with temptation. "Then do it."
The challenge in her tone was clear, daring him to cross that line, daring him to lose himself in her.
Oliver froze for a heartbeat, his chest heaving. Then he chuckled, deep and low, a sound that sent shivers racing down her spine. His lips brushed her ear as he murmured, "Temptress."
Without warning, he lifted her off the counter, strong arms sliding under her thighs. Athena gasped softly as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, straddling him. She could feel the hard press of his body beneath her, and it sent a rush of heat straight through her.
Her arms looped around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder as he carried her effortlessly out of the kitchen.
Halfway up, he tilted his head, his lips grazing her temple, his voice low and rough. "Let's get you cleaned up… before I lose every bit of control I have left."
Athena only smirked against his skin, her breath warm on his neck, and whispered in a way that made his grip on her tighten, "Maybe I like it when you lose control."