Chapter 70

Octavia watched the dark outdoors fly past her as he drove down the nearly empty highway. They had left Quentin’s place around two o’clock, even though the actual work they did had ended much earlier.

After destroying Octavia and Quentin, Raemon and Gracie had decided to play against each other. Oddly enough, neither one of them was able to get the plastic ball through the other’s miniature net.

Octavia almost got scared watching them, seeing the intense look of determination in Raemon’s eyes and observing Gracie’s eerie calm face, the one where she became so calm it was almost as if she were some kind of machine.

Octavia and Quentin stood by and watched, reminding themselves to never try anything as stupid as they had that night.

Then Quentin had begun bombarding Raemon with conversation on all sorts of topics—he’d started with Icarus products, then moved to quantum theory, then classic Greek literature.

Octavia had left them to go hang out in the den, a room off from the assembly area that had been used to stock supplies.

This room was more complete, with two big couches, a large TV and sound system hooked up, and dim lighting.

Octavia was thoroughly involved in the extra slice of pizza she was determined to fit into her already bursting stomach.

She lazily flipped through selections on Quentin’s streaming service before settling on a TV show she didn’t totally hate.

When Octavia had emerged from the room, it appeared as if Quentin and Raemon were deep in a heated debate about Renaissance philosophy. Then Raemon and Gracie went for another few rounds of foosball.

“I hope we didn’t keep you from something,” Octavia said. “If you had to go, you could have left. You didn’t even have to bring the paint, really.”

“Do you think I walked out of an important business meeting or something just to bring you paint?” Raemon asked.

“No.”

“Well… I did.”

Octavia’s eyes widened. “You’re joking!”

Again, Raemon smirked. “You seem so shocked.”

“Raemon, I’m serious! It was just some dumb request. You didn’t have to drop everything for it!”

“Relax. I didn’t. I was done for the day when you texted anyway.”

Octavia sighed in relief. It wasn’t much longer after that when his car pulled into the driveway of his mansion.

He circled the house and went down a route Octavia hadn’t been on the first time Yosef had dropped her there.

This one led round the back to the car port where the doors opened, and he drove into the largest garage she had ever seen.

The lights grew from dim orbs to a gentle warm glow, bathing the place in a mystical light. Around the space, Octavia saw different car models and a few motorcycles, parked in places around the space.

Floor lighting illuminated the vehicles, making it look like they were on display.

“Shit,” Octavia exclaimed, getting out of his Ferrari. It was a blue one this time. “You’ve got a lot of cars in here.”

He stood by, holding the door open as she got out. “It’s the garage, Octavia,” Raemon said. “This is where cars are kept.”

“Yeah, like two or three,” Octavia said. “You must have, like, twenty in here.”

“Twenty-eight,” Raemon corrected.

Octavia grinned. “I bet you bring all your lady friends through here, huh?”

Raemon smirked. “Why would you say that?”

“That is what you do, isn’t it? You bring them here just so they will fawn and gush over”—Octavia looked around and pointed to one car—“the Mercedes…”

“BMW,” Raemon corrected.

“That…Maserati…”

“Bentley.”

“And of course…the…uh…thingamabob…”

“Porsche.”

“Yeah. That.” Octavia’s eyes were dancing with humor. “And when they see all the cars they’re just like, ‘Oh, Raemon Kentworth, how sinfully handsome you are! I must find my way into your bed!’”

Octavia chortled at her own falsetto-voice impression of Raemon’s former lovers.

Raemon didn’t lose his smirk as he stepped toward Octavia, pressing her up against the car.

“I don’t need to show a woman any of this to get her into my bed,” he said, “or to keep her there.”

“So sure of yourself,” Octavia remarked.

“No woman has ever complained. In fact, it’s usually the opposite.”

Octavia’s smile grew wider. “Really?”

Raemon leaned in closer, till his breath was warm on her face. “Would you like a demonstration?” he asked huskily. His arms closed around Octavia and she felt his fingers pressing into her flesh.

Octavia said, “I don’t know…these women you’ve fucked…what makes you so sure they were telling the truth?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m assuming they had some idea how many cars you owned…and how much else you own. Who would fuck someone like that and actually tell him if it was less than sensational?”

Now it was her turn to get back at him for making her fall off that ladder. As Octavia spoke, she knew there was no reason for her question.

She’d already experienced enough to be personally convinced of his skill.

“Who knows? They might have faked their orgasms,” Octavia continued, a breeziness to her tone. “They might have just pretended to just so they could keep riding around in your Lamborghini.”

“Ferrari.”

“Whatever. It all sounds like pasta to me,” Octavia said.

“I’m just saying, honesty tends to get put on the back burner when there’s billions of dollars involved. In short, if they had to, they would totally lie.”

The crease in Raemon’s brow softened, and a hungry look entered his eyes. “But you wouldn’t, would you?”

Before Octavia could answer, he captured her lips with a fiery kiss. His hands went around her bottom and lifted her up, pinning her body against the side of his car.

Octavia’s legs automatically circled around him as his hands moved up her body, under her skirt, to grab her by her hips.

His lips continued to ply at hers with a growing hunger, and Octavia responded with her own aching desire, sucking in whatever he gave her and giving him back her own lips, her own tongue—with all the need in her body.

She felt his hands moving over her body, taking in her every curve. He slid his palms over her butt, digging his fingers into her plump cheeks.

Then his hands moved up her body, bunching up her shirt under her arms as he grasped her middle, sliding over her skin, and moving up to her breasts.

He massaged her breasts, still covered by her sports bra, squeezing her mounds, and teasing her nipples in rhythm with the motion of his tongue in her mouth.

The stimulation of his touch made her arch her back against the car’s cool exterior and wish he’d stop fucking around and just take her bra off already.

Raemon pulled his head away from hers just enough to sound the words. “I want you wet for me, Tavi.”

His voice was low and husky, but a piercing sound in Octavia’s ears set against the silence of the room.

“I want to fuck you so good, you’ll forget about every other man you’ve been with.” She didn’t know why, but his guttural tone turned her on even more.

“Funny,” Octavia breathed, barely holding herself together, “I want the exact same thing.”

As if reading her mind, he grabbed her shirt and began to slide it up her torso.

Octavia had thought the outfit Sierra had bought looked cute when she put it on that morning. A knee-length black denim skirt and turquoise T-shirt.

But at that moment, as the shirt’s small collar got stuck around her humongous Afro, she cursed it to high heaven.

Raemon must have shared in her frustration because he took the fabric between two hands and pulled, the piercing sound of ripping fabric echoed, and the shirt fell in two pieces by Octavia’s sides.

“Crap,” Octavia said, her head back and eyes closed as Raemon’s lips worked at her neck while his hands undid her bra at the back. “I…I liked that shirt.”

“I’ll buy you another,” Raemon said dismissively, tickling her collarbone with his breath.

“Is this what it’s going to be?” Octavia asked. “Are you just going to rip off every piece of clothing I own every time we fuck?”

She moaned softly when he tore her bra off her body and immediately plunged his lips to her nipple. “We’re going to have to do this less, or I’m going to need more clothes.”

Raemon brought his head back up to her face momentarily. “Well…we’re not going to do this less.”

Octavia clawed at his own clothes, eventually prompting him to stop and pull the white shirt over his head and toss it aside.

Octavia’s fingers met the skin of his hard, taut flesh; she knew those arms so well.

They were the arms that had carried her, held her, and caught her.

And yet as her fingers dug into his near impenetrable flesh, a thrill of excitement shook her as if she were encountering something completely new and unknown but completely welcome.

His lips worked on her breasts, and his hand went down to her middle. His deft fingers slipped inside her underwear and slid down to her slit, immediately finding her clitoris.

Octavia wrapped her arms around his neck, fighting to suppress the wave of emotions possessing her body. She wanted to hold on to every tremor as long as she could.

His fingers created a delightful wetness in her core, his mouth devoured her breasts, one at a time, and his body pushed up against hers with a demanding hardness.

“Raemon…,” Octavia whimpered.

Raemon lifted his head from her chest. “Say it, Octavia. Say my name. Say that you want me.”

“Of course, I fucking want you,” Octavia said irritably. She was stopped short by a movement of his hand inside her, a very intentional and effective move, which pushed her right up to the edge.

Raemon had a sly look on his face as he undid the zipper on his jeans with one hand and pressed closer to Octavia.

He whispered in her ear, “More than any other man you’ve ever been with.”

Right then, at that moment, seeing as how he was the only man around, Octavia could honestly say this was the case.

“I want you, Raemon Kentworth,” she said confidently between breathless sighs. “Now put your dick inside me before I do it for you myself.”

Raemon thrust himself inside her. With one hand on the car behind them, he drove himself into her and drew back. Each time he pushed into her, the car behind them would sway.

Had it not been a four-thousand-pound vehicle, she didn’t know what would have held up to Raemon’s relentless pounding.

Octavia held on to him, letting him feel what each of his thrusts did to her. Her fingers dug so deep into his skin she was sure they’d leave some marks.

Octavia was glad for the emptiness of the large space because she had no idea what she sounded like then.

She was only slightly aware of the moans coming out of her mouth, of Raemon grunting in her ear, of the hissing sound he made when she dragged her nails across his back.

Or the high-pitched gasps she uttered when she was too breathless to shriek but also too wound up to stay silent…

To sum it up, they definitely fucked the hell out of each other.

Octavia did not need to fake her pleasure that night, all three times a sublime ecstasy possessed her body.

When they were both done, when they were just empty vessels of flesh, the intensity of their orgasms echoing through their hollowness, he cradled her cheek in his hand and kissed her.

“How do you feel?” Raemon asked.

“Fuck,” Octavia sighed. “I think you just bumped yourself up past number one.”

“I told you I know how to give a woman pleasure.”

“But now you know for sure.”

Octavia closed her eyes, still reveling in the feeling of his hands around her body, holding her up and his lips sprinkling kisses across her face.

For the next few minutes, it was enough for them to stay there in that space with the fading feelings of their intense fucking session still lingering in the air.

Suddenly Raemon spoke.

“Octavia….I…”

Something inside Octavia’s stomach tightened.

“I’m getting cold,” Octavia piped up.

And she was truly, goosebumps were spreading over her shoulders and bare breasts.

Raemon held her face in one hand, digging deep into her eyes with his own.

“Let’s get you inside,” he said, wrapping his other arm underneath her and carrying her away.