False God – Taylor Swift
I excused myself from the room, refusing to just stand there and watch the situation unfold. I walked down the corridor until it was free of people. I really needed to pull myself together over this Ben situation.
Where had this all come from anyway? I’d been fine since we’d slept together. I’d managed to put it in its own box and ignore the occasional dirty thought that dared to slip out. The situation had been well under control until… until yesterday, in Rob’s office. He’d flirted with me, and I knew he’d flirted with me before, but it hadn’t left me feeling this sort of way, left me under this spell. I’d always been flustered, that was for sure, but also annoyed. He’d annoyed me for years without end. But what had changed? Why was I ready to melt into a puddle at the sight of him, ready to wage war on co-workers for flirting with him?
One thing was for sure: that uncomplicated sex I thought had been nothing but a massive success? Turns out it had made things pretty complicated after all. Who knew?
Maybe Hanna was right. I needed to date. Maybe not for the relationship, but just as a distraction. But even that felt exhausting–long conversations with strangers, getting to know them, having to leave the comfort of the house in the evening. The thought sent shivers down my spine.
These few months had been the longest I’d gone without even looking for a date. Maybe I was a little starved for affection, and now I’d had a taste of him. I was very aware of how delicious a snack Ben was. A distraction from my distraction couldn’t be the answer.
I wandered down the hall, aimlessly at first, before deciding to collect my bag from the teacher’s lounge and touch up the makeup I’d stupidly decided to wear tonight.
The room was dim, but still somewhat lit from the window. Instead of bothering to figure out which of the million light switches was the correct one, I left the room dark, and instead stumbled about trying to locate my belongings. I’d left my bag on the other side of the room, a decision I was beginning to regret as I dodged other teachers’ things they’d abandoned on the floor.
“Fancy finding you here.”
I turned around, heart racing in my chest, to find Ben looming into the doorway, the light of the hallway lighting his stupidly hot face up perfectly.
“You scared me.” I clutched my chest, my heart was still pounding from the scare.
“Sorry, I saw you leave. Wanted to check everything was okay.” The confidence in his voice slipped a little. I felt the irritation at him from earlier ease, but only slightly.
“I’m fine. I’m just getting my stuff,” I explained, moving closer to where my bag was.
“Good news, by the way: some of the teachers have agreed to help out with the competition.”
I could hear the smile in his voice, but it only made me roll my eyes as I muttered my next words under my breath, thinking he wouldn’t hear me. “Oh like Kara?”
He frowned. “And a few others… but why would you mention her specifically?”
Crap, too obvious. I froze where I stood, trying to think up a suitable reason for my snide remark that didn’t completely show my hand.
“Olive?” His tone changed, getting lower, serious.
“Just noticed you were getting friendly with her, that’s all,” I said, trying to explain it away but not daring for a moment, for a second to turn around and look at him. I heard the door close as he stepped inside the room, heard his footsteps slowly but surely growing closer.
“She’s a friendly person,” he said, and I could have sworn I heard the smirk growing on his lips. I finally pulled my bag from the pile of forgotten bags.
“Oh, I bet.”
This time, I spared a glance over my shoulder, flinching a little when I realized he was closer than I thought he was, now perched on the closest table to where I was crouched. I shot to my feet in shock, before remembering to keep it together, to keep those cards close and private. I’d already said too much, felt too much.
“Somehow, I feel like this isn’t about her.”
His voice sent shivers down my spine. Of course he’d seen right through me, he always had. Even when I’d barely been able to handle standing in the same room with him, when having the simplest conversation with him would have us at each other’s necks, he’d catch me in every lie, call me out on every twisted truth. And now was no different
“It’s not about anyone.” I tried to shrug him off. Tried, but failed.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Ben, what do you want?”
This had to end. If he kept digging, God knows what he’d see. I turned around to look at him properly and took in every inch of that cocky swagger as he stared at me, eyebrow raised in question, an obvious grin still curled on his lips. It was so easy to hate him, so easy to be infuriated by his unbearable confidence. But for the first time, or the first time I’d realized, I was turned on by it. By that magnetic smile, the playful glint in his eyes.
“I want you to admit it.” The look he gave me was one a lion gives its food before eating it, playing with its prey just to make it suffer. But I wouldn’t go quietly.
“Admit what?” Playing dumb maybe wasn’t the best tactic, but I was working with what I had. His hand gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as he threw his head back in exasperation.
“Do you have to be so goddamn infuriating?” the words escaped him on a growl.
I could do little to stop the smile curling on my lips, the pleasure at getting underneath his skin undeniable. I was going to answer him, play a little more, when he cut to the chase, catching me off guard.
“I want you to admit, Olive, that you are jealous.” His eyes shone darkly in the dim light.
“I’m not jealous,” I quipped back, panic surging through me at his words as the curve of his lips turned into a full blown smirk. What had he seen? He couldn’t know… could he?
“Bullshit,” he smirked. The word sounded more like an accusation as I tried to collect myself again. No wonder he saw right through me when every reaction I had to him was so pathetically obvious.
“So, why did I catch you staring when she was feeling me up?”
“Not a clue what you’re talking about.”
He pushed himself off the desk, and on instinct, I took a step back, my eyes stuck on his as he towered over me.
“But you should know the school really looks down on unwanted touching.” I said bravely, though the words came out shaky, my voice quiet.
He stepped closer, and this time I kept myself under control, staying stationary as he grew closer. My heart was racing again, and this time I knew it was from the proximity, the closeness of our bodies. I could feel the warmth radiating off his body as I realized that somehow all the space between us had been slowly eaten up, and now he was barely inches away from me–and closing in fast.
“Just admit it, Olive. You were jealous. You didn’t like that someone else was touching me.”
I tried to rebuild the wall, scrambled for the strength to push back, to say something–anything.
“Has it been all you can think about, Olive? Because I still think about it. Think about how you taste.”
My gaze connected with his, and I saw it. The heat I’d seen that Friday night, I saw it in his eyes as his head lowered closer to mine. It was undeniable and hot as fuck.
“They’re going to start to wonder where we got to.” My voice was barely louder than a whisper, the sound all crackly.
He was thinking about the same thing I was, and it all felt inescapable, unavoidable. There were no breaks on this runaway train, no coming back from this; this right here was inevitable. And why bother fighting the inevitable?
He leaned in closer, slowly, giving me plenty of time to lean back, to dip out of what was about to happen. I didn’t dare move an inch.
“I’m sure we can let them wonder a little longer,” he said, and I couldn’t bear it anymore, couldn’t hold back as I closed the space between us, our lips colliding.
I could’ve gotten lost in the gentleness of this kiss, the softness of his lips, how it felt as we moved against each other. But the gentleness didn’t last very long, giving way to a frenzy of need. We melted against each other as his hands glided around my body, his arms slowly wrapping themselves around my waist, before he pulled me in tight and my body was pressed firmly against his. I couldn’t help but let out a gasp, basking in the feeling of his hard body against mine. Dirty dreams were made of kisses like these. His lips curled into a smile, but he didn’t dare stop. I didn’t even think we could stop, now that we had started–at least I couldn’t. Who needed air when you had this?
My hands traveled up his neck, my palms pressing into the warm bare skin there, before making their way up to his hair, my fingers grabbing softly and wrapping into fists, pulling gently.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this again,” he groaned softly against me, and it was my turn to smile uncontrollably.
He’d been thinking about it all this time too. That nugget of knowledge was not lost on me.
With a couple of steps, we found ourselves on the ancient couch. He sat down first, his hands pulling at my thighs so I was on top of him, straddling him. His hands made their way up to my back, the touch of his fingertips on my skin electric. I groaned, moving against him, slowly grinding myself against him, pleasure simmering throughout my body at the motion.
I couldn’t stop, I wouldn’t stop, the heat between our bodies was so hot I felt like we must be glowing white. His smell, his taste, his touch, how he felt on my skin, how his lips felt pressed against me–it was like finally coming up for air, finally taking a deep, delicious breath. And now I could never go back, never hold my breath again. I got lost in him, lost my mind, my body. Thoughts fell away as he moved against me, as I felt him against me, hard between my legs.
“Jesus, Olive, can you feel what you do to me? How hard you make me?” His eyes were wide, staring right at me. I bit my lip, trying to stifle a smirk. Instantly his eyes zeroed in on the motion, watching me as I released my bottom lip.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen again.” The reminder seemed like a moot point, but I said it anyway.
“Are you complaining?”
I shook my head, and dipped to meet his lips again. I fucking loved being here on his lap, the lost control driving me half insane, left me needing him inside me, filling me up and fucking me. He’d felt so impossibly good last time, I needed it again, needed to know if it would feel just as good a second time around. And then a third, and fourth.
But first I needed to see him again, needed to see that gorgeous length of him, wanted to know how he tasted. I gained enough control of myself to stop grinding, and to back myself up, my hands moving down to his lap.
“What are you doing?”
I could hear the grin in his voice as he watched me undo his belt buckle, followed by the button of his trousers and the zip. I backed off him further, finding my feet, before pulling the material down, just a little.
I lowered myself to my knees in between his legs, my hands easily finding his cock.
“I thought I’d return the favor,” I replied, recalling the skill he’d shown when he went down on me before, how quickly he’d brought me to the edge, working me with his tongue and fingers. His eyes were wild as he watched me, a mix of shock and excitement clear across his features as I used my hand to play with him, pulling softly up his hard length.
Fucking hell, he looked delicious. I’d never wanted anyone more. My brain buzzed with the thought of having him fuck me again. I was so fucking hungry for him, complete starved for the pleasure I craved from him. Him, and only him.
I was so fucking screwed.
I lowered my head to his cock, taking a moment to run my tongue over the sensitive skin. He groaned deeply, his head immediately rolling backwards, his body inched forward as he gave over all control at my touch. I grinned against him, before taking his head in my mouth and working his cock with my mouth.
He swore endlessly, his cursing furthering me on my mission to make him fucking cum. His fingers tangled in my hair, offering some support to my head and helping me keep the perfect rhythm, kept working his length up and down. I kept my hand working the lower part of his length, pushing him into my mouth as my head bobbed up and down.
“Fuck… Olive. You feel… You feel so fuck… ing good, how are y– oh God!”
He could barely get out words as I sucked, licked, and worked every inch of his length, giving him my full attention. Every single moment was dedicated to him, devoted to giving him back the pleasure he had given me. My hands began to tremble and cramp as he finally uttered a warning, a plea that he was close. But when I didn’t stop, didn’t move away, he lost his fucking mind.
