Scarletts P.O.V

Both you and Oliver are in the car. You decide to pull away from his mom's house quickly before something else sets him off and he changes his mind about leaving and gets out of the car. After a few moments in silence as you process what's just happened. Oliver clears his throat before speaking, though you can hear the emotion in his voice.

"I-I couldn't stop. I thought of every fucking time he put his hands on me and my mom, and I just lost control"

'I know. I know Oliver"

You place your hand on his thigh, squeezing gently as he cups his chin, scratching at it as he continues as if he hasn't heard you.

"And when he fucking called you a whore... I swear to go I saw black. I didn't feel anything. Not even when he was hitting me. Not a fucking thing. All I wanted to do was hurt him. To make. Him feel the pain he's made me feel. The pain my mom is feeling right now!"

Your sympathy is unyielding. It consumes you swifter then anything has, and makes your heart race with anger. You pull off onto a side road, speeding and driving deeper into a brush of trees as you can get yourself to move, despite Oliver's confusion.

"Scarlett, where are we?"

I just want to be the calm in the storm for him. What makes him forget. Or lessen his pain.

You park the car, pulling the keys out of the ignition and unhooking your seatbelt, as you're fuelled by passion into his lap.

"Scarlett?"

"I think I'm falling for you. It sounds crazy out loud, but I just want to ease your pain. Just the thought of you going through this is making me fucking crazy. I might be man idiot for admitting this, or being this vulnerable in front of you, but I am falling for you, Oliver."

with an impassive expression, guarding himself from your scrutiny as you wait for

softens his gaze and drags a hand through his hair as

from you. And I

excitement fills you. You're in his lap before you can think, capturing his mouth with yours, desperately trying to lose yourself in him. You cup his face in your hands, passionately entwining

God, I love him...

"Oh, Oliver"

your hips, flexing along the skirt of your

you. Is

finger in between your thighs to glide along your glistening

I have to

his pants to pull himself free from the denim prison, and as soon as he grips his thick member in his hand, you feel the pulsating heat of

want you inside of me, Oliver.

never get tired of

of you, moaning when he hisses

"You're mine"

"Yes!"

his length inside off you skilfully, before he begins bouncing your hips repeatedly, gliding your velvety smooth walls up and down him. You moan an array of

"Too fucking good"

yes. Oh god.

thumb across the swollen bundled of nerves atop your

"And you..."

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