"I am ready," Harper says quickly. "Do not hold back." Oliver's breath hitches at her eager consent, his entire body going taut with anticipation. "Thank fucking God," he breathes out, his voice shaking with relief and desire. He reached for his wallet on the coffee table without breaking eye contact with her, fumbling slightly as he pulls out a condom. His hands are shaking slightly from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "I have been dreaming about this all day– about feeling you wrapped around me finally," he said quickly, tearing open the wrapper with his teeth. He rolls the condom on with practiced movements, though his usual precision is slightly off due to trembling fingers.
When Oliver returns to position himself between Harper's legs, he pauses to look down at her– at the way her skin is flushed pink from orgasm and how trusting she looks lying there completely vulnerable for him. "You are perfect," he whispers reverently before guiding himself to her entrance. He enters her slowly and deliberately, his breath catching as he feels her heat enveloping him inch by inch. The sensation is overwhelming– tighter, wetter than he could have imagined. He has to pause halfway in order to regain some semblance of control. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, his forehead dropping to rest against her shoulder. His hands grip the sofa cushion on either side of her head, knuckles white with the effort of holding still.
"You are so tight," Oliver murmurs against Harper's skin, his voice thick with pleasure. "So, perfect around me." He starts moving then, slowly at first– deep, deliberate strokes that allow them both to adjust to the new intimacy. His hips find a steady rhythm as he watched her face for any sign of discomfort or pleasure. As his thrusts become faster and deeper, the doorbells rights, signalling the delivery of their food. "No, don't stop," Harper manages to mutter before covering her mouth with her hand to muffle her moans. Oliver's blue eyes widen in shock at the sound of the doorbell, a laugh of disbelief escaping him despite the situation.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," he says through gritted teeth, his rhythm faltering for a moment. He glances toward the door with clear frustration before looking back down at her. The sight of her covering her mouth to stifle moans while he is buried deep inside her sends a fresh wave of heat through him. "Just ignore it," he murmurs urgently, his hips starting to move again with renewed purpose. "They will go away eventually." His thrusts become deeper and more determined now that he knows they have limited time. "Besides," he breathes against her neck as he pounds into her harder. "I am not stopping until you come on my cock again," his hands grip her hips possessively, tilting her pelvis up to meet each powerful stroke.
Oliver's phone vibrates insistently on the coffee table the screen lighting up with an incoming call from the delivery service. The idea of someone being just outside his apartment while they are having sex, somehow sends a thrill through Harper and her inner walls tighten around Oliver's cock. "Oh fuck," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure and amusement. "The delivery guy is actually calling me right now." His eyes are dark with a mic of arousal and disbelief as he glances toward the phone. he does not stop moving– if anything, the thrill of getting caught sends a fresh surge of adrenaline through him. His thrusts becoming more urgent, driven by the knowledge that the delivery guy is right outside the door.
"You like that idea, don't you?" Oliver pants against Harper's ear, his breath hot against her skin. "The thought of someone hearing us through the door." His hips snap forward harder, burying himself to the hilt inside here. The phone rings a few more times, the sound mixing with Harper's muffled moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. Oliver's movements become frantic, driven by the taboo excitement of it all. His control is slipping fast. "God, Harper," he grips out, his voice strained with pleasure and desperation. "You are so fucking tight when you get turned on like this." His hands grip her hips so hard he might leave bruises tomorrow, but neither of them cares right now.
Oliver can feel her tightening around him with every movement of his hips, every vibration from his phone bringing a new wave of arousal for both of them. The thrill of being so close to getting caught is intoxicating– his own breathing is ragged as he pounds int her harder and deeper. "I am going to come if you keep squeezing me like that," he warns through clenched teeth. The delivery guy knocks on the front door instead of ringing the doorbell, this is the final catalyst for both of them. Oliver's body goes rigid above Harper as her inner walls contract violently around him, milking his own release from deep within. He buries his face in the crook of her neck to muffle his groan of ecstasy, his hips jerking erratically as he spills into the condom.
"Fuck," he breathes out against her sweat-dampened skin, his body shaking with force of his orgasm. "Harper–" his voice breaks off into a low moan as the last waves of pleasure wash over him. The sound of the delivery guy outside seems distant now, drowned out by their heavy breathing and the pounding of their hearts against each other's chest. Oliver collapses on top of her for a moment before rolling to the side, careful not crush her. He carefully pulls the condom out alongside his cock and binds it. His breathing gradually returns to normal, though his skin is still flushed and damp with sweat. He reaches over to grab the throw blanket from the back of the sofa, pulling it up to cover both their naked bodies.
"Shit," he laughs quietly, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. "I think out food is getting cold out there."