Oliver makes such beautiful noises when we’re together like this, and I am selfishly glad that I get to be the only one to ever hear them. He might have enjoyed himself with the women he slept with, might have gotten off, but it’s only me that makes him whine and whimper, back arching and thighs trembling. These things are just for me, and I’ll always be greedy for more.

I kiss and bite at the inside of his thighs, sucking a bruise into one of them, and then slowly make my way up his body— bypassing his cock to mouth along the crease of his thigh, and just under his navel.

“Anything, huh?” I say as I lift my head, giving him a mischievous smirk and then leaning over to open the bottom drawer of my nightstand, digging around until I find the silver vibrator at the back of it. Oliver doesn’t remember most of our times with this toy, and I am suddenly eager to make new memories.

Sitting up between his spread legs, I slip the toy from its velvet pouch and touch the tip of it against the inside of his thigh, drawing a slow line without turning it on.

“I want to play with you,” I tell him, looking up at his face with a heavy-lidded gaze. “Do you think you could keep from coming if I put this inside of you, pesca? Could you be good for me?”