InsaneJournal

Who: Alice Ayres and Oliver Wood
When: Backdated 21 December 2012
Where: Their home.
Rating: NSFW
Status: Complete



By the time Alice arrived in the sitting room, Oliver was already seated on the sofa, his laptop left open on the coffee table. Pandora was playing a holiday station, and Oliver’s life-long love Bing Crosby was providing a suitable atmosphere of holiday cheer. The Christmas lights had been turned on, the overhead recessed lamps dimmed, and Oliver had two cocktails, lotion and a small box of Co-Codamol on standby.

‘Hiya love,’ he called out when he saw her enter the room. ‘How’s your back?’

She walked into the room, wincing only a little when she sat down. “I am acutely aware of my skin in a way I didn’t think possible,” she grinned. “You?” She reached out for her drink, taking a sip and finding it good she leaned forward. She would have leaned back, but unfortunately she couldn’t do that.

Watching how carefully she moved, Oliver reached forward and without asking, began gently peeling Alice’s shirt up and over her head. He didn’t need to ask, not really; they were as intimate as two people could be without romance mucking it up. ‘All things considered, it’s actually alright. Every now and then I can feel the skin stretch, but...’ he shrugged. It felt good to be able to shrug properly again. ‘I’ve just spent the last year with my arm in a brace. Anything feels bloody brilliant to me.’

Chucking Alice’s shirt aside like a ruddy football, Oliver reached for the lotion. Keeping a new tattoo moisturized was exceptionally important. ‘So why this quote?’ he inquired, beginning to apply a liberal amount of lotion to the area. His fingers trailed gently over the words, reading as he went.

Giggling when he tugged her shirt, she wiggled to help him with its removal. Alice liked how close they were - more like family than lovers. Lovers fucked you over, lovers hurt you and left you. Granted, it didn’t keep her from trying or fancying someone - Jefferson was amazing and she couldn’t help but smile when she thought of him - but her dreams still haunted her.

“I don’t know, sometimes I need to be reminded that I’m capable of more than what I think I am. Between the dreams and work, it’s just … sometimes I need a push.”

'So you put it in a place you cannae see... Smart.' Oliver was only teasing though; he thought her reasoning was perfect for getting a tattoo. It was why he'd gotten his, after all.

'Well, you're capable. You really are. And the job? Eh.... Therapy for grumpy old men. And dreams are... Well, they're just dreams, right?'

“I’m glad you think so,” Alice grinned. “I don’t know, sometimes the job just wears on me, you know?” It was exhausting to hear everyone’s woes and still be sexy while doing it. “And I know it’s there. Trust me, right now I know it’s there.” She laughed at that, curling closer.

“My dreams are just exhausting. I just... mostly I cry.” Alice leaned over and ruffled his hair. She seldom talked about her dreams because they were boring and depressing.

Scowling at that, Oliver tugged Alice over by the seat of her pants, dragging her into his lap and cuddling up close. 'You cry?'

She burrowed into his arms, letting her head rest on his shoulder. She didn’t see the big deal. “They're just dreams.” Nothing that she really thought anyone would be interested in. She certainly wouldn’t be if she weren’t having them.

Typically with that verbal response Oliver would have let the subject drop. But with the way she curled into him, Oliver was actually worried about Alice. He set his fingers in her hair and began rubbing her scalp. 'Still donnae like you crying. Want to talk about it?'

Then again, when Alice thought about it, Oliver probably cared. She tried to think of a good summary for her dreams, but still didn’t want to get too involved in them. “Nothing to talk about really. Men are shit. The end.” She leaned back to smile at him, lightly beeping his nose.

The tap momentarily made him smile. If she didn’t want to go into detail she didn’t have to. He'd just hold her and smile. 'Well in that case I apologise on behalf of my entire race.'

His apology was wholly unnecessary, and it made Alice grin wryly. “We're not together, you can't cheat on me.” Her dreams were filled with crying because of some stupid ass named Dan who cheated on her for a year. She shook her head and resumed burrowing into Oliver’s shoulder.

Well that didn't sound right.

Oliver shifted to better wrap his arms around her, frowning. What was with men in today's world? 'Someone cheated on you?'

Her reply was muffled by his shoulder. “For a year. In my dreams.” In real life too, it was part of why she’d left London. She didn’t like the parallels, it was like her mind was trying to tell her she was an idiot.

Did that mean the bloke had cheated on her and she kept dreaming about it? Or was this entirely mental?

Leaning over, Oliver kissed Alice sweetly, lovingly. 'I'm sorry. Want me to kill him?'

“He's not here, silly. He’s just in the dreams. In the dreams I know it’s a whole year he’s cheated on me.” She shook her head, smiling at the way he kissed her. It was weird, but she felt very much at home with him.

'I could dream about killing him,' Oliver offered.

That made her laugh. “It's because I have a fondness for skinny artistic blokes, I suppose, they're always the chick magnets.” At least for dating. She’d have been mad to call Oliver skinny, or to kick him out of bed.

Squeezing Alice affectionately, Oliver added, 'That donnae mean they're allowed to hurt you. Even in your dreams.'

“The part about my dreams that I hate is that I stayed in England, hoping he'd come back to me. Like a puppy or ... something pathetic.” She wrinkled her nose. She hoped she’d be strong enough to just walk away from someone who didn’t treat her well.

Nodding, Oliver wrapped his arms more tightly around Alice. Even if it was just a dream, he hated that they felt real enough to upset her so. He'd been there before too, and decided on an out of character whim to tell her so.

Perhaps it was being along in America, the strange success of his surgery, the emotional mess with Verity; whatever it was, Oliver managed the truth in that moment. On a topic he was rarely honest with himself over.

'We all have one of those,' he said quietly, 'For me, it was a bloke named Charlie...'

Her brown eyes widened in surprise. “... you fancy blokes too? Why didn't you tell me?” It wasn’t that she was offended or scared or even cared overmuch, she just hadn’t known.

For a moment, Oliver was silent as he considered the reason. Eventually he shrugged, 'Donnae know... Nae something I mention a lot... Or, ever.'

Alice played with Oliver’s hair almost absentmindedly. She didn’t want him to feel awkward. “I don't mind, I just figure if you wanted we could have more over.” Blokes, she meant.

'It was...' he paused, formulating a reply. The fingers in his hair felt comforting and he closed his eyes, happy despite the turn in conversation. 'Donnae matter. It was a long time ago. Could have just been a one off. Nae sure.'

“I'm just saying, if you want to try, I can be there, so if you hate it you can just shag me instead. Think of me as a ... transition into figuring it out, if you want to. If not, just ignore me.” Alice chuckled, kissing along Oliver’s neck. If he wanted to explore parts of his life, she’d be there for him.

Alice's kisses brought a pleased smile to Oliver's lips and he canted his head, giving her more space. 'I could never ignore you. Especially when you're in your skivvies.'

She grinned against his skin, moving to nibble a bit more. “Which is why I offered to help. I'm a giver.”

'A giver, hmm....' and he had to chuckle at that. Oliver's hands began once again to roam Alice's skin, mindful of her new tattoo. Her lips and teeth were the perfect addition to their lazy cuddling, warming sleepy blood in his veins. 'Or maybe you just want two blokes at once.'

Sighing contentedly, Alice felt her muscles relax when Oli’s hands moved over her body. “How much more giving can I get?” She grinned up at him, playfully snapping at his jaw.

Laughing loudly, Oliver opened his eyes, leaning in to nip back at Alice's nose. 'Well, if you really loved me...'

She giggled at the nip, flailing a little. But then he paused, and it made her question. “Go on, what?”

'Nae, no, I was just teasing.'

“You sure? No deep dark desires? Or did you sow all those oats already?” Alice waggled her eyebrows, giggling at her terrible, failed attempt at a Scottish accent.

Oliver's nose scrunched at her imitation of his dialect, but he didn't tease her about it. Simply a pinch to the bum for good measure. 'Nae hardly! There's a lot I have nae done that I want to.'

Because she was going to leave that alone. “Liiiiike?”

Shrugging, Oliver leaned back against the sofa and thought, absentmindedly drawing circles across Alice's skin. 'Well, there's the bloke thing, like we chatted about. Bondage. I've tied lasses down but never the other way around. Uh... Threesome. As much as blokes tend to talk about that sort of thing it never happens to us.'

Pausing, Oliver scritched his chin, then returned to rubbing Alice's back. There were a lot of things he wanted to try, and some of them didn’t involve tying himself down to one person just yet. 'Er... Donnae know. There's more, I'm sure. Just cannae think of them at the mo. What about you?'

She hadn’t anticipated his turning the question around on her, but figured if she was honest it would turn out well. “Threesomes are okay if everyone keeps actively participating. Otherwise there's an odd person out and that's awful. And bondage is fun both ways. Oh, I sometimes shag in inappropriate places, but you're famous, that'd be trickier.” She spoke honestly, the discussion more clinical than arousing.

'Being famous has never stopped me from having public sex before,' Oliver admitted openly. They could have been discussing the weather; no topic could have been more casual. 'I like it. Makes it hotter.'

The fact she’d always felt comfortable around Oliver, right from the day she’d met him - that had always fueled their friendship. “Right? Any sort of risk coupled with the sex is nice. There's a time and a place for the lovey dovey stuff, but I like my hair pulled as much as the next girl... provided she likes that, but I think it's fairly normal, really.” She didn’t like to think that she was strange.

'I love tossing a woman about,' Oliver paused to wink in kind. 'When she likes it as well, I mean. Biting. I love being bit. Any kind of mark, really.' And talking about that did spark the rise of heat in Oliver's belly; marking and claiming, evidence left from frenzied sex had always been a trigger for him. 'Fingernails are good, too.'

Alice nodded emphatically in response, making a happy purring sound in the back of her throat. “Or that one hand around the throat thing blokes do. Not choking, just sort of a dominant gesture.” She liked nothing more than when a man tossed her around like a doll, especially if they cuddled with her afterwards.

'Mhm,' he nodded, half humming half moaning. There was an image formulating in his mind of a faceless woman, her body, his hands...

'Aye, that's good too. I like when girls make demands, as well. Or they beg. The confidence needed for that is exceptionally sexy.' Unfortunately not many women were so verbal. 'You have that in spades.'

“You forget, I talk dirty for a living.” Of course, at work it wasn’t hot, it was just … work. It was more effort than people thought; she had to figure out what particular phrase or topic would get the man in question to give her the most money. It was like being a lock-picker or a safe cracker, trying out different combinations before the cops came. Or in her case, before the guy in question decided to leave. But with men she actually fancied? It made her as happy as it did them.

'Well, you're very good at it,' Oliver confirmed. That was probably why she was great at her job as well; stripping might seem like the easiest job in the world (after all, who couldn't take their clothes off?) but Oliver had seen plenty of rubbish birds to know there was a difference.

Alice was high quality.

“Awww! Really, we haven't done anything that dirty.” Alice ruffled his hair, moving to sit on his lap and grin down at him. “You're sweet. You should come to the club sometime.” He’d never been; she figured he’d probably have fun with it.

Looping his arms around Alice's waist, Oliver looked up into her eyes. She had amazing eyes, great features all around. He tried to imagine her stripping and thought that maybe he'd enjoy watching her at work. Then again, he might cause a ruckus with his overprotective instincts and violent tendencies.

'I'd love to come some time. And I can be dirtier, if you fancied?'

“Oh, only if you want to on both counts. Up to you, really, it has to be a both people thing.” Alice thought about dancing for him in one of the private rooms and got goosebumps. She ducked her head, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He did.

There was little about Alice that Oliver didn't notice, especially with her shirt off while she sat on his lap. The evening was starting to slip casually into sex and that was alright with him. It'd been a few days.

'Dinnae I just finish telling you there are a lot of things I haven't tried but want to?' He grinned, palming her thighs. 'What sorts of dirty things do you like?'

That didn’t help the blush at all, and she shifted her weight against him as her neck grew redder. “I don't know, it's such a relative term! Isn't that what we were just talking about?”

'Aye,' Oliver nodded, reaching up to trail his fingers along the blush rising over Alice's skin. He contemplated circling his whole hand around her neck as she'd admitted to liking, but Oliver decided in that moment it was more erotic to simply stroke her skin, alluding to the possibility. 'But are there other things you like?’

Her eyes closed as one of his fingers trailed over her neck. She shivered, arching into his touch. “Just generic things, I guess. Thor and I have been doing um.” Oh, great, how best to talk about this? “Not strictly what you and I have been doing?”

'Oh?' Alice's body reacted so beautifully to his touch; she was a creature of pure beauty. 'Tell me more,' Oliver demanded, his voice dropping deeper and thickening.

Fuck. That voice did things to her, his bass-filled rumble sending chills down her spine. It was why hers was breathless and low-pitched in response. “Actually from the first night I met him. He just got me good and worked up where anal seemed like a good idea. Granted, he did tie me up and keep me on his bed for a day, I may have just been hungry.” She met Oliver’s eyes and licked her lower lip.

Swept by a sudden craving to devour Alice, Oliver forced a swallow. That little pink tongue along her lip; he knew too well what that tongue could do. But no, not yet. He was enjoying the build up far too much to cave so soon.

'I cannae decide if I wish I'd been Thor in that situation...' he exhaled and admitted, 'Or you...'

“And this is why I think when he's better we invite him over.” Her proposition tumbled from her mouth before she could think of a better way to put it, and she guided Oli’s hands up to her bra to get him to unhook it. Because of the tattoo.

Gently, Oliver slipped one strap from her right shoulder, followed by the left. The fabric around her breasts flexed and shifted but remained mostly in place. With a single hand, Oliver felt around her back, pausing over the clasp.

He used the time to imagine Thor, Alice and himself in bed together. The skin along Oliver's collar bones began to pink. 'I'm starting to think you've got the right idea. What was it like?'

She sighed contentedly when the strap moved off of the plastic that covered her tattoo. “He's ... well, he's got big hands for a reason.” She thought of how he’d touched her, the noises he made, the way he’d made her literally tear up. “I had to call in sick,” she laughed. The memory was fond.

'He's a big bloke all over,' Oliver said conversationally. It hardly surprised him that Thor was also well endowed, but his mind was also elsewhere. It was on Alice, on her breasts so close, on the highly erotic vision of her tied to a bed for an entire day.

'I'm really horny now. Want to shag?'

“He really is, have you - yeah, that's a good idea.” Her skin was flushed, and she cupped his cheeks to kiss Oliver hard, rocking her hips against his.

Opening beneath her lips, Oliver kissed Alice back with all the pent of passion which had been building through their talk. The fingers at her bra made quick work of the clasps and he ripped the fabric away to press eager hands over bared flesh. 'Have I what?' he mumbled between kisses.

Alice gasped, tugging on Oliver’s hair. “Seen him, or were you just guessing. Doesn't matter, just curious 'cause it's kind of hot, obviously.” She couldn’t help but imagine herself between Thor and Oliver and it made her bite her lip.

'Oh, I just meant he's tall. And burly. Would nae surprise me to know he's got a big cock.' It did make him wonder though if he'd find that aspect of Thor arousing or intimidating.

That made Alice laugh. “Granted, I'm tiny, I may just be biased.” She found Oliver huge too. Being of slight build made most guys feel better about themselves with her.

'How big is he?' Oliver asked, trailing his teeth down along her neck.

That got a groan from Alice. “Tenish? Maybe eleven? Seriously, I had to ice bits I've never had to ice before but I was happy about it.” She tugged at Oliver’s shirt, trying to wrench it off.

'Bloody hell!' Oliver gasped. He let go of Alice long enough to help remove his hoodie, which was all he wore on top. It wound up somewhere behind the sofa, Oliver's brain was on overload as it processed the information about Thor. 'And here I thought I was a respectable size!' He was thoroughly impressed with Thor’s genetics.

Alice promptly sucked down hard on Oliver’s clavicle once his hoodie was off. But then he was intimidated by Thor and Alice couldn’t help but laugh. “You are! And honestly, I could be wrong, I suck at estimating measurements.”

'I'm just...' he gaped, shook his head, and then trailed his hands down around Alice's petite waist. 'Impressed! Eleven inches... How does he nae pass out?'

She couldn’t help but giggle into Oliver’s shoulder. “That's what I thought!”

Feeling Alice burrow into his shoulder and not feel any resulting pain was as much a turn on to Oliver in that moment as their bared chests grazing one another. The hands at Alice's waist firmly slid up her back, tracing her waist line and carefully avoiding her new tattoo until Oliver's fingers were curling into her hair, tightening enough to gently pull at her scalp. 'Sounds delicious, though...' he admitted, most of the playfulness leaving his voice replaced by desire. The more Oliver thought about a threesome with another bloke, the more aroused he became. What would it be like to set Alice between them and kiss over her shoulder?

'Tell me more,' he said, voice barely a rustle along her jaw where teeth and lips tracked from chin to ear, Alice's head held firmly between Oliver’s hands the whole while. She wasn't going anywhere until he felt like letting go.

'What was it like being bound up that long?'

The warmth of Oliver’s skin made Alice’s skin goosebump under his touch. She shuddered at the tug to her hair, trying not to whimper. She tried not to think of naughty things like Thor taking Oliver while Oliver took her - because she had an inkling that wasn’t logistically possible outside of porn - but Oliver was making it difficult with his questions. The nudity didn’t help much either, neither did Oliver’s accent. “He let me move around for a bit. Not every ... okay, see, we had this bet. He said he could get me off once an hour. I said that's not humanly possible.” But it had been. Even though she’d been sore and could barely walk, Thor had proven her wrong.

Smiling behind her earlobe, Oliver asked in a whisper, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer already. 'And who won the bet?' Biting down against her neck.

She answered in a gasp. “Him.” Her hips moved sharply against his, hoping he was as turned on as she was.

Oliver's chuckle turned quickly into a groan as he felt Alice's hips grind down into his. 'Brilliant... Hot,' were the only words he managed to choke out because by now conversation was losing its appeal. He wanted instead to physicalize everything they had talked about, starting by dragging Alice back to his bedroom.

But that was too far and the fireplace was roaring and the suede of the couch was soft and inviting and Oliver didn't feel like wasting any more time.

With a grunt, he exercised his newly recovered shoulder and flipped Alice off his lap, dumping her into the sofa so he could get at her trousers. They needed to come off.

She helped him by arching her hips up as he fiddled with the buttons and tugged, ignoring the sting in her shoulder. “Twenty six! I think he's some sort of sex god or something.” Not that Oli wasn’t, but she wanted him to think of Thor as being capable. It helped with what she wanted to say next. “You should have him do you.” And her. And any permutation therein. But this was for Oliver’s benefit, to help him resolve questions.

'Got to ease into it love,' he replied, finally removing her accursed trousers and chucking them over the back of the sofa. Oliver was about to grab her by the thighs and drag her towards him when he remembered the tattoo. Instead, he pulled back more, and started with Alice's toes and worked his way up her legs, nipping here and there before sinking his teeth into her inner thigh, mindful of bruising until she told him otherwise. She did have to work, after all, but it was difficult to resist. Thoughts of her and Thor and him were elevating his feral desires.

She appreciated that he didn’t tug her, moving closer to him as she wiggled out of her panties. “Bah dum tiss,” she murmured, gasping as he kissed her legs. But when he bit her she outright groaned, arching off of the sofa, never telling him to stop. Bruises were trophies, momentos.

Rightfully, Oliver took Alice's response as the consent to do as he pleased. Worrying the flesh between his teeth, Oliver bit harder before starting the slow process of easing off and moving to another spot further up her thigh. They would leave trails marks, footprints of a kind leading up from her knees towards something sweeter.

Alice could feel herself breathing harder, could feel herself bucking her hips slightly to get him to hurry. But his teasing was almost too much for her, and she tugged lightly at his hair, whimpering and pleading with him to hurry up, to please do something. She hooked a leg over his shoulder and watched him, biting her lower lip. God, watching him was teasing enough.

As much as Oliver loved to feel Alice squirm in anticipation, there could be too much a good thing. When he was soon satisfied with an array of marks along her inner thigh claiming the flesh as his own, Oliver centered in on what he knew she wanted.

There was a brief moment where Oliver caught Alice's gaze before he placed his hands on the backs of her thighs and pressed her legs towards her chest, lifting her hips from the couch and sinking his mouth against her body. Gently this time, his lips and teeth tugged and caressed her labia for a brief moment before, like a good bloke should, he focused his attention on that one place he knew would make her toes curl.

There'd been enough teasing and talking as foreplay already; Oliver wanted to taste Alice and feel her body buck against his mouth.

She made a faint noise of surprise when he pushed her back, but she was soon closing her eyes and trying to hold her legs back so she could be more open for him, more available. But she was getting off more on the way he was commanding her body, the way he was moving her and growling faintly. She bit her lower lip, tiny whimpers escaping her throat as she arched her hips against him, murmuring his name.

Every sound and twitch Alice produced urged Oliver to continue. His hands were firm on her thighs, his mouth insistent and agressive where it could be, careful and gentle where it had to be. And he has no reservations about vocalising his enjoyment at her pleasure. Alice was a creature of beauty, well in-tuned with her body, her nerves responsive. Oliver wanted to bring her quickly to the brink and keep her there for as long as possible.

And he did exactly that; he knew exactly what she liked by that point and she couldn’t help but tug hard at his hair, whimpering reedily, breath coming fast that she needed him. ”Please,” she groaned, hips moving faster. She felt dizzy, felt her heart beating too fast in her chest.

But Oliver didn't give in, not yet. He wanted Alice begging, crying for release. He wanted to wind her up so badly that the fingers in his hair would feel like a scalping. If she bucked too hard against his mouth and brusied his lips the more the better.

She knew that he was probably competing a bit with Thor - blokes loved competing with each other - but if she got to reap the benefits and make him feel good about himself at the same time, that was fine by her.

One of her hands was in his hair, tugging hard, the other running her fingernails over her breast, her stomach, leaving red trails in their wake. She and Oliver had mostly had fairly companionable couplings, creature comforts, snuggling - but this was different. Her orgasm came upon her with a surprise and she bit her lower lip hard to keep from screaming.

And he never let up. Not until long after Alice's body had gone from ridgid to slack to twitching. It wasn't that he was competing with the memory of Thor; Thor was a class above him. There was no sense in competing and Oliver held nothing but the highest respect for him.

But all the talk of his own questionable orientation had driven Oliver to reassure himself in the most natural way possible.

And then there was their conversation fuelling the passion. Oliver trailed his lips and teeth up Alice's body to her neck and lips, kissing her deeply. 'You think he'd even be into it?' Oliver asked, picking up their previous conversation between snogs.

Alice loved when she could taste herself on Oliver’s lips and she kissed him back hard. “I have no idea, but I think so,” she murmured breathlessly, reaching down to get Oliver’s trousers off, tugging almost frantically at the zipper.

Shifting to allow Alice access, Oliver nipped at the top of her breast, mumbling, 'Alright. Let's ask him then,' before sucking a pert nipple between his teeth.

Shuddering, Alice tugged Oliver’s trousers and boxers to his knees before scooting further down on the sofa, rocking her hips against him, knowing full well what they both wanted. “I can text him,” she panted, closing her eyes. “This is the maddest thing I've ever done, you know?” The asking a friend for a threesome to help her other friend come to terms with his possible bisexuality part, not the shagging a hot footballer part. That part was logical.

'Well, we donnae have to, if you donnae feel comfortable... Condom?' Oliver lifted his head long enough to glance around the room, eyebrows half cocked. The moment his eyes caught the first piece of furniture - the coffee table - he remembered their location and distinctly how far the nearest condom was located.

Sod it.

Pulling away, Oliver took enough time to kick the rest of his clothing off but didn't bother about protection. It was not the first time desire had gotten in the way of precaution. Neither Alice nor Oliver were as religiously careful as they should have been.

'I can ring him myself, if you prefer,' he offered, settling back down over Alice and grinding his hips roughly against hers. Her body was warm and wet and intoxicating; Oliver's words slurred Scottish as his erection rubbed against her pubic bone. They were deliciously close. 'I'm a big boyo, after all, I can do me own soliciting.'

Alice wasn’t super great about protection, but she was on the shot, so she wasn’t too worried about babies. She gasped as Oliver teased her, arching her back. “I don't mind, either way. It's the good sort of mad.” She ran her leg up and over him, trying to wrap it around him as high as possible.

The shift in position pulled Oliver closer and he dipped his head to suckle Alice's neck as he slowly rocked his hips forward, finally penetrating her. His eyes slipped shut at the familiar sensation as Alice's body parted to accept his, the most natural and basic of human pleasures. When his hips were flush with hers, Oliver stilled momentarily while his heart rate climbed, nipping possessively at Alice's jaw. As feral and rough as Oliver could be, he was naturally affectionate, a creature of comfort. And Alice was very comforting.

'If you're interested, and you'd find pleasure in it, I'd love to have you there...' he breathed. 'If nae, that's no problem either. There are other things we can do together,' he grinned, kissing Alice sweetly.

She shuddered as he pressed into her, her eyes closing. She exhaled, feeling completely, totally relaxed for the first time that day. “Oh, I'm going to be there.” She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oliver smiled intoxicatingly. Sex with Alice was like a drug addiction, and all thoughts of Verity, his career, his bum arm and his past melted away as he began to move inside her.

"Good," he gasped, the ability to talk quickly fading along with everything else.

She couldn’t help but grin as she whimpered. “I'm a good friend, aren't I.” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement.

'The very best.'