The Start of Something Ch. 01


Author’s note: this is a slow-burn enemies-to-lovers erotic romance. If that’s too slow for you, my other stories get to the hot sex much more quickly. Enjoy!


It’s Friday night, and I’m sitting at the bar, having dinner alone. At least there’s a cute bartender to flirt with. He’s just my type, too, tall strong, and buff. And, with a constellation of tattoos running up and down his muscular arms.

He notices me looking at him and winks. “Can I get you anything else, doll?” he asks, with a wide, sexy smile. I smile back. “I’m good, thanks.”

Still in my reverie, I notice someone taking the seat next to mine. My face falls as soon as I realize who it is.

Oliver. My cocky, arrogant coworker who seems to enjoy contradicting and antagonizing me. More than once, I’ve imagined punching his stupid, handsome face. He’s the last person I want to see tonight. Just my goddamn luck.

He flashes a slow, confident smile, and I can’t help but notice how gorgeous he is. He probably knows it too, the bastard. They always do.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks. “My buddy is over there desperately flirting with a cute girl and it’s just too painful to watch,” he laughs. He has a sexy laugh, I have to reluctantly admit.

“If you want,” I say coolly, bracing myself for the inevitable backhanded compliment. He always seems to enjoy playing with me, keeping me dizzy and off-balance, the fucker.

Before I have to endure his irritating banter, I freeze. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Jack–and his wife–and my heart drops. I grab Oliver’s arm, panicking. “My ex is here. I have to go,” I gasp.

Until tonight, I’d managed to forget about Jack, the charming man who told me he was separated, on the verge of divorce, but was actually cheating on his wife. That charming man was a liar and skilled manipulator, and I never saw it. He made me his goddamn mistress, and I’ll always hate him for that. And I hate myself for letting it happen.

He never deserved my love, that’s for sure. But, looking at him now, I remember the man I thought he was, and I miss that version of Jack. I squeeze my eyes shut, a futile attempt to stop myself from crying.

Oliver softly murmurs, “Let me walk you out,” and I can only nod as I choke back tears. He guides me to the door, placing his hand on the small of my back. I suddenly realize how safe and protected I feel with him.


“I get it,” he says quietly, and somehow, I know he does. He looks down, frowning when he sees my hands are still shaking, and says, “Let me drive you home.” Once again, I’m only able to nod in reply. He gently puts his hand on my arm and guides me to his car.

As he drives me home, we’re quiet for a few minutes. Then, I softly say, “Thank you. It was really hard to see him.” After a long, quiet pause, I add, “He was having dinner with his wife. He’d said they were separated, but it turned out he was just a cheater. That was the first time I’ve ever seen her, and it was just…” I say, swallowing back tears.

“Wow, no wonder you’re so upset,” he says quietly, He pauses. “I’m glad I there to drive you home.”

There it is again. The unexpected empathy and kindness.

“That’s a lot of pain to be reminded of,” he says, squeezing my hand gently. “But, you’re ok now. This is just the echo of what he did to you.” I nod, slightly stunned by his insight. Perhaps there’s more to Oliver than I thought.

And then, when we pull up to my apartment, I ask hesitantly, “Hey, do you want to come up for a drink? I could use the company.”

I’m tense, I realize. I’m tense and nervous with Oliver, and it’s all because I just want to keep spending time with him. I wonder what he’s thinking. Am I too eager? Too pathetic to have friends who will come cheer me up?

He smiles and says simply, “I’d love to.”

I fucking love his smile, I realize with a start. It’s the first time he’s really smiled tonight, and I don’t want to stop looking at him. I smile back, a small, shy smile. When his smile widens, I feel… warm.


And now, he’s here, and I actually want him here, and I don’t know what to do or what to say. He’s calm and relaxed as he asks for a gin and tonic, and I’m taking desperate breaths and willing myself to calm down. As I press the glass to his hand, our fingers briefly touch, and he flashes a slow, lazy smile. “Thank you,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.

I’m still a nervous mess when I sit next to him on the couch, so I grab my pipe. When I light it and inhale the strong, fragrant smell of cannabis, my breathing finally starts to return to normal. Well, sort of.

“Can I have a hit of that?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes intently watching my lips pressed against the smooth glass.

I hand him the pipe and light it for him, which suddenly feels like such an intimate gesture. As he grins and exhales the smoke, the air is suddenly electric. I am now acutely aware of how close we’re almanbahis sitting… and my nipples harden. My heart is racing, my breath is slow and ragged, and my skin is warm and flushed.

“Thanks,” he says, returning the pipe, and this time his fingers linger on mine. I look down, blushing furiously.

“Hey,” he says after a moment, lightly touching my arm. “You deserve so much better than that jackass. You’re smart, talented, successful.” He pauses, “and, beautiful, though you don’t need a man to tell you that.” He smiles at me then, kindly, gently.

And now, at this unexpected kindness, I’m crying. Hot tears fill my eyes and I look away, not wanting to be so vulnerable with him. He gently puts his arms around me, I relax into his chest… and I finally let myself feel my feelings. I finally let myself cry.

I hate that I’m crying and that Oliver is the one comforting me, but he’s so kind and gentle that my resistance softens. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” he says in a low, husky voice, and I now just want to melt in his arms. There was an unmistakable heat in his voice and gaze, and I shiver.

He doesn’t stop there, of course, the beautiful bastard. He strokes my hair gently and murmurs comforting words in my ear. “It’s ok. Let me help. Let me make it ok.”

I feel so… safe with him. I want to stay in his warm embrace, his arms wrapped around me, holding me tight, our lips locked in a passionate kiss, our bodies crashing against each other. The sweet nothings he’d whisper in my ear, the dirty, filthy things he’d tell me to do, and his praise and worship of my pussy, my mouth, my lips, my tongue. I want it all. I want it all from him.

I rest my hand on his chest, and nearly gasp–the boy is pure muscle. “My god, you’re ripped,” I murmur, and he grins.

“I like your curves,” he replies, his voice low and ragged, a hard, unreadable look in his eyes.

I blush, bite my lip, and trace the outline of his pecs, transfixed by his hard, strong body. “Keep going, and you’ll know just how much…” he murmurs in a husky tone, and I swear, it’s like he’s speaking directly to my clit, because she’s awake and very excited.

He’s giving me a hard, dark stare, and his lips are slightly parted. I’m definitely melting now, into a puddle of drool and desire and horniness. And thoughts of kissing those lips. Thoughts of kissing Oliver’s lips.

He leans forward and whispers in my ear, “Touch me, Dina. I’m hard for you.”

I softly gasp as I trace my finger lightly down his chest, down his abdomen. His look of desire is so intense, so heated, that I want to stop teasing him and put my hand on his goddamn cock already–but I need to slow down, need to make him crazy for me. I need some small power over him, because as soon as he puts that delicious cock inside me and thrusts… I may never want him to stop.

His eyes are still locked on mine, and he looks like he wants to throw me down, rip off my clothes, and fuck me right here on the living room floor. I want to swoon–that’s right, I said swoon–at the intensity of his stare. At the intensity behind the stare.

“Should I keep going?” I tease, and he growls. Finally, I run my finger over his rock-hard cock, and he gasps and lets out a low groan, biting his lip and giving me that same hard stare. And then, when I think he won’t be able to stand another second of my torture, I grab his cock, lean forward, and give him one of the most sensual, primal, savage kisses of my life.

He groans and wraps his arms around me, desperate for my lips, desperate for my kiss. He kisses me forcefully, pulling me onto his lap, facing him. I gasp when I feel his hard body against mine, and I push against him, grind against him, wishing that hard cock was inside me, thrusting into me, fucking me, making me clench and twitch and cum all over him.

I want to strip him and fuck him right here. I want to feel that amazing cock fill me, slam against me, and then, finally, cum inside of me, as he’s holding me tight and gasping and growling against me. I want to make him cum hard for me, over and over again. Until he has nothing more to give. Until his head is filled with thoughts of me, of my face, my smile, my mouth, and my cunt.


We’re standing in my bedroom now, having discarded most of our clothes on the living room floor. His cock is now visibly straining against his plaid boxers, and I can’t help but lean forward to touch and stroke it. I need to find out just how amazing that cock is.

He stops me, smiles, and tells me he just wants to look at me for a moment. His lips are parted as his eyes lazily survey my body, and my nipples harden into stiff nubs under his wanton stare. He pulls me to him and slowly unbuttons, unzips, and pulls down my jeans, running his warm fingers over my smooth, pale thighs. I shiver.

“That’s really sexy underwear,” he murmurs as I step out of my jeans. “Turn around,” he commands, almanbahis giriş and I do so, slowly. He groans when he sees ass in my lacy, purple panties. Then, lightly, reverently, he runs his fingers over them.

“Bend over,” he orders, and when I do, he growls. He roughly grabs my pussy, his fingers dancing on my drenched lips. “Fuck… you’re soaked…” he gasps. Then he puts his hands on my hips, pulls me up, and grinds his hard cock against my ass as he holds me tightly against him. And… fuck, I’m gasping and panting and drooling.

Still holding me, he places his hand on my throat and presses his lips to my ear. “God, I’ve wanted this. I’ve wanted you,” he says, and my pussy clenches. “And, I’ve thought about you, more than once…” he says, his voice still thick with desire, and I can’t help but let out a low groan.

He kisses down the side of my neck, his tongue lightly teasing me. Then, suddenly, he turns me around and kisses me deeply, roughly, his tongue pushing against mine. His hand is gripping my hip and the other is on my bare breast, lightly stroking my hard nipple. Fuuuuuck. He really knows what he’s doing, the fucker.

He murmurs, “Dina… It was torture being in a meeting with you. I wanted to fuck you right there on the conference room table… You gave a hard-on in a roomful of people, you little slut.”

I gasp. He laughs and looks at me. “If I avoided looking at you… well, that’s why,” he adds with a playful grin. I lean forward and kiss him then, my tongue probing his mouth gently. He responds forcefully and ferociously, taking my breath away at the intensity of his kiss, the intensity of his desire for me.

He growls and pushes me down on the bed, and I’m fucking panting now. I’m panting at this boy, and he’s loving every fucking minute of it. He stands over me, gazing at me admiringly, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. It’s almost too much to take in. That’s how good he looks. That’s how delicious and delightful and absolutely decadent he looks.

Then, he pulls down his boxers, and I let out a loud gasp when I see his cock spring out. It’s thick and hard… and pointed straight at me. He lightly strokes my lower lip with his thumb and whispers, “I love these gorgeous lips.”

Dear god. Kill me now. Just fucking kill me now.

And, with that, his mouth is on mine and he’s lying on top of me, almost crushing me with the weight of his body. He shifts and I feel the warmth of his cock against my thin, lacy panties, and I gasp in shock. He’s groaning as he pushes against me, holding me tightly under his large frame. He looks like a hulk of a man, a hulk of a man who could hold me down, pull my legs apart, force his hard, thick cock inside me and fuck me savagely–whether I wanted it or not. I groan now, a low, primal groan.

He kisses me deeply, slowly at first, then with more and more intensity. He buries his fingers in my hair, and pulls my long, wavy strands. I moan into his mouth, and he laughs and pulls harder. He nibbles my lower lip and plunges his tongue deeply into my mouth, groaning in pleasure when I match the intensity of his kiss. I suck on his tongue, and he gasps, thrilled that I want this just as much as he does.

He kisses down my neck, then rests his lips at the top of my cleavage. He palms my breast and strokes my nipple gently, making my thighs and pussy clench. “So soft,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my breast lightly. “You’re more gorgeous than I ever imagined.” He pauses. “And believe me, Dina. I’ve imagined you a lot.”

I laugh, delighted by the intensity of his desire. “I hope I was good,” I grin.

“You have no fucking idea,” he mutters slowly, and sucks on one nipple as he strokes the other lightly with the palm of his hand. At his soft, teasing touches, I start to I writhe and grasp and claw at the sheets. And now, he’s swirling his tongue around my nipple and biting gently, while pinching the other between his thumb and forefinger. I’m nearly overwhelmed with pleasure.

He has magic fucking fingers. That’s the only explanation for this, for how he’s affecting me right now. I can only imagine what fucking him will feel like. I shudder against him.

And Oliver wants me, too. His hard cock is pulsing against my thigh, as he pushes rhythmically against me. He’s breathing hard, his eyes are low-lidded, and there’s a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

Then, he slowly traces his finger down my body, not stopping until he reaches the top of my panties. “You won’t be needing these…” he growls, and pulls them off quickly and efficiently. And now I’m lying here naked and he’s all rough and manly and growly, and the anticipation is making me lose my fucking mind.

He slowly strokes my pussy lips with his middle finger, gently teasing them apart, and groans when I feels just how wet I am. I can feel the heat emanating from his naked body as he teases and touches and explores my wet almanbahis yeni giriş cunt, and I want him to just take me already, Oliver.

He lightly strokes my clit with his thumb, and slowly, gently pushes two fingers inside me. He pumps his fingers in and out of me, making me moan and tremble with each stroke. All I can think about are the pulses of pleasure traveling from his fingers to my pussy, as he pumps more and more vigorously.

Then, suddenly, his tongue is on my clit, his fingers still rhythmically fucking me. “Oh fuck… yes… Oliver,” I scream, almost too overwhelmed by the delicious pleasure I’m feeling deep inside me.

Fuck, these really are magic fingers. Magic fucking tongue, too.

He growls and groans as he licks me, and I gasp when I feel the vibration of his lips against my clit. He laughs when I buck against him, captivated by my reaction to his expert licking and stroking.

“Hold still, darling,” he laughs, but of course I’m unable to control the furious movements of my hips and thighs. He says in a low, urgent voice, “Talk to me honey. Tell me how to make you cum.” When I don’t answer him, he slows down and growls, “You have to cum, darling, before I can fuck your brains out….”

I finally manage to form words. “On my stomach… with a vibrator on my clit. And… your fingers in my pussy.”

“Let’s do it,” he growls, and flips me onto my stomach. “Get your vibrator,” he commands, but I’m too weak and overwhelmed to move.

“Darling. Get your goddamn vibrator,” he repeats more loudly, grabbing my hair and pulling–hard. “Don’t make me ask you again,” he growls, looking absolutely lethal.

At his low growl, my pussy twitches, and I just want to keep playing this game with him. But I crave him, crave his cock, too much for that. Finally, I grab my vibrator and put a condom on the nightstand. He grins.

I lay back down and position the vibe on my clit, as he gently strokes my ass. “Your ass is even better than I expected,” he mutters, thickly. As I turn up the intensity of the vibrator, he slowly inserts his fingers into my wet, greedy pussy.

Fuuuuuck. This is glorious. This is absolutely fucking glorious.

He pumps more and more quickly, expertly matching my pace as I grind against the vibrator. I’m panting and moaning and crying into my pillow and he’s grabbing my ass as he pistons his fingers in and out of me.

He seems to intuitively know where to touch me and how much pressure to use, the bastard with the magic fingers. But I no longer have the energy to hate him, to hate how easily he makes me collapse and crumble. All I can think about are the sensations pulsing through me as I inch closer and closer to orgasm.

He changes his pace, alternating between slow, short thrusts and hard, long ones. I’m overcome with sensations, letting out low groans that are entirely unlike any sounds I’ve ever made before. I’ve never been touched like this before. Never.

“C’mon,” he gently coaxes. “Cum for me, princess.” I grunt and groan in reply, my orgasm just out of reach.

“C’mon Dina. Cum on my fingers so I can fuck you. Give it to me,” he repeats over and over again, his tone so soothing and so hypnotic and… then, finally, I explode. I clench and shudder and cum all over his eager, magic fingers, as I gasp and moan and cry on the bed.

“That’s right, princess. That’s right,” he croons as the orgasm continues ripping through my body. He doesn’t stop pumping until my moans slow down.

And then, he gives my ass a deliciously hard smack and resumes his pumping. I let out one loud, long groan, shocked at the intensity of the sensations. Then, amazingly, he hurls me into another orgasm, one just as explosive as the first. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes!” I scream as he continues pumping. I can no longer think. Time has stood still. All I can think about are the waves and waves of pleasure as I twitch around his warm fingers and scream into my pillow.

Once my moans have quieted, he withdraws his fingers and gently pushes me on my back, kissing me slowly and deeply. “Dina… that was incredible. I could watch you cum all day long. You’re just… gorgeous,” he breathes softly, reverently.

I gently pull his short hair and smile when he moans against my lips, then give him small kisses all over his neck and throat. I lean over and whisper in his ear, “Oliver, if that’s what you can do with your fingers,” and he gasps and lets out a low, feral growl. I love how much I’m affecting him, how crazy I’m making him, how much he wants me.

I continue kissing down his neck and chest, nibbling and flicking my tongue over his hot, smooth skin. I pause when I get to his abs, and lightly run my fingers over his taut muscles. He groans at my light kisses, his hard cock jutting out rudely from his body.

I keep kissing down his abdomen, pausing when I reach his cock, my lips mere millimeters from his glorious member. He’s visibly trying to control himself, grunting and growling, an expression of pure lust on his face. I know he wants to grab me by the hair, force my mouth down on his cock, and facefuck me relentlessly, until he’s a wet, gasping mess and his cum is all over my eager lips and face and hair.

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