Ceaseless Chains Copyright © 2021 by Marzy Opal (xXMopelXx) All Rights Reserved.

Chapter posted - August 6, 2021

It's Leo season and I'm celebrating my 25th today <3 so here's a little gift from me to you. If you're loving this story, leave me a VOTE please - it helps me out! Follow me on Wattpad so you never miss an update announcement, IG for aesthetics/teasers and Pinterest to peruse my story boards if you want :) Oliver and Teagan's one is coming soon and it's my sexiest board yet! 

PS: Still working on setting up Trapped With You's pre-order link. I'll keep you posted on IG the second it's up. Love you. 

Enjoy this long awaited chapter. I can't wait to hear what everyone has to say hahaha. Happy Reading! xo

Playlist Song: Black Atlass - Fantasy

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C H A P T E R  17

Teagan

It was Sunday afternoon, meaning I had a date with Wyatt in less than five hours. Which also meant that Oliver had a date in less than five hours.

We ate breakfast together this morning and Lord, could Oliver cook. He whipped up white chocolate chip pancakes and strawberry coulis, his own recipe, before we went our separate ways after our bellies were full. We danced around the subject of our dates, so it didn't cause a schism between us.

The last three days were spent in harmonious bliss. It was as if my life's cassette had pressed pause all those years ago during our confrontation at Jared's party. After my heart-to-heart with Oliver on the couch, which had ended with us cuddling and catching up on random life events that occurred in the last four years, the tape finally pressed play. We resumed where we left off.

Just the thought of how our friendship returned full force brought a smile to my face, not to mention the funny and scandalous direction our conversation had veered.

"Trent and I considered becoming male strippers as a side hustle when we were eighteen," he'd said. "We even auditioned...at the local male strip club. As a dare, of course."

"Get out of here!" My mouth had gaped open as I'd laughed. "Nobody ever told me about that."

"Because nobody besides Jared and Quentin know," Oliver had grumbled. "It was a very, um, colourful night. Very 'Magic-Mikesque'. I should also mention that we auditioned under the influence."

"I went to Vegas three years ago. Got so drunk with a friend that we tried to convince Elvis to marry us," I'd told him. "We decided we were done with men."

"Jared got his tongue pierced two years ago. To eat pussy. Apparently a barbell against a clit feels like heaven," he'd muttered. "Instant chick magnet."

"Oh my God! You're kidding me!"

"Nope," He hugged me closer to his chest. "I haven't seen him with the piercing recently, so maybe he took it off."

"I'm just remembering that Tara once said she has her suspicions about Jared having a piercing in his...nether region."

"Holy fuck," he'd howled with laughter. "Ouch. I don't know why anyone would put themselves through that."

It's like the last four years didn't happen. We picked up where we left off. That's how I knew my relationship with Oliver was valuable.

Since we established our bestest BFF status, I woke every morning to the noise of Oliver strumming his acoustic guitar in his room, the echo of his strings like a soothing balm to my pleading soul. It usually followed with the sound of my raspy morning voice from my own room, singing to whatever song he chose. We couldn't see each others' face, but I knew our matching smiles were doing all the talking. This morning he played Ain't No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell, a salute to our favorite karaoke song from high school.

Now I was in my room, going through my closet to pick out an outfit. Trying to calm my nerves. I knew it was ridiculous to freak out over a first date, but my track record with men—boys, I should say—sucked and I was worried of falling down the same rabbit hole.

Every girl dreamt of a prince charming, including me.

It just so happened that my fairy tale involved lots of villains and witches and I had yet to find my happily ever after.

I asked Wyatt where we were going, to make sure I didn't over or under dress. It was a first date, so I expected somewhere casual. But he surprised me with his reply.

I'm taking you to La Flame on East Mount view. – Wyatt

The restaurant wasn't cheap by any means, harbouring the best steak dinner and wine menu in the city. You had to book far in advance. I knew it was one of my parents' favorite places to dine. Very romantic. Very I'm-in-it-for-the-long-run-with-you oriented.

Which scared me. Because while I'd been texting Wyatt for months now, I still had yet to learn him on an intimate level.

However, La Flame gave me an excuse to get all dolled up. The dress code was fancy so Wyatt would have to pull out his best blazer and slacks.

In the midst of raiding my cocktail numbers, my ajar door burst open even wider and my unassuming best friend strode in.

Oliver plopped on my bed in a manspread, elbows propped behind him as he reclined back like a bawdy, indulgent prince, giving me his undivided attention. Low riding jeans hugged his powerful legs and the well-worn black t-shirt stretched across his broad chest and torso magnificently. A playful expression played across his face as he regarded me, whiskey eyes bright with glee. The dark five o'clock shadow grazing his jaw and that tousled long hair that he'd tied at the nape of his neck gave him a wild look.

"I'm bored. Whatcha doing?" he drawled, tucking a black strand of hair at his temple behind his ear. "Entertain me."

With those two words, intimacy suffused the room, causing my heart to beat a tad bit faster. I faced my mirrored closet, but I could see him perfectly, eyeing my backside under the false pretense of boredom. My throat bobbed with difficulty. "I'm trying to find an outfit for tonight. Wyatt is taking me to La Flame."

"Oh." His eyebrow arched, but his gaze drilled into a faraway distance when I tried to catch it through our reflection.

"Yeah." I laughed a little shakily. Oh.

Our relationship was double sided like a coin. One side was filled with mischievous banter of old friends with no filter. The other side was laced with electrifying energy so thick, so sexual, that it could be sliced with one hot look. We could be laughing one moment, and then the next moment was brimming with the need to unravel each other—figuratively and literally. We just couldn't make heads or tails.

The scale at this point was useless. It barely balanced these days. There was no more distance between us. Oliver and I had ventured too close to each other to back away now.

Too damn close.

Trying not to salivate over Oli, I furiously racked through my dresses. The last thing he needed to know was I lusted after him, that he haunted my dreams and stared in them like a dirty fantasy.

My focus had to be Wyatt. Didn't I owe him that? He'd been kind and patient to me these last few months. He made me laugh and was a bit of a flirt. But, I suspected underneath all that, there was a guy cut from boyfriend material.

I had to stop thinking about Oliver's stupid golden eyes, luscious hair that I wanted to fist, and muscular body.

A body so powerfully toned and bulked that it looked like it could wring out copious orgasms from a woman.

Not that I would be finding out anytime soon. He was my best friend, roommate, co-worker, and landlord.

"So." Oliver's eyes skated over me through the mirrors like I was naked and not wearing a modest silk chemise and shorts. "What are you going to wear?"

I plucked out a few options. "Are you all set for your date with Lucy? When are you going to pick her up?"

My tone was testy. Even I heard it.

"Lucia," he corrected. Obviously, I knew her name. "Sure. Gonna shower and change soon. I only have to pick her up in, I think, three hours."

"Wyatt is picking me up in three hours too," I quipped helpfully.

He didn't give a fuck. "Nice."

I found an old black number. It was a curve-hugging strapless dress that reached knee-length. I'd accessorize it with my gold arm cuffs, ruby teardrop earrings, and the bangles Aayana gifted me. I had a pair of red soles that weren't too high so Wyatt wouldn't feel like I towered over him. No man wanted to feel over alpha-ed after all. Their ego couldn't handle it.

I clutched the dress to my body, wondering if I was ready for this. One date was harmless. But what if Wyatt asked for more? Could I give more? Did I have it in me? Or should I cross that bridge when the time came?

Oliver judged my pensive silence as something more. Rustling echoed behind me and I saw through the mirrored closet door that he'd sat up. "What's wrong, Teagan?"

"I'm nervous," I admitted on a whisper. "I haven't been on a date in almost a year and I don't know what to expect." More than that, I didn't know what Wyatt expected. Steady dating? A relationship? Shit, sex?

For a few beats, Oliver remained mum. Then he said, "Wyatt is a good guy. He'll treat you nice. Girls like nice."

Now I heard the testiness in his voice. "Not all girls like nice."

He peered at me through his lashes with a smug smirk. "That so, Darling?

"Mhm." The air saturated with more heady tension.

"You don't like nice boys, Teagan?" he challenged.

God, we needed to drop that word.

I turned around fast, my long hair spinning with the motion, before cascading down my back. I hit him with the full force of my flirtatious gaze and bit my bottom lip because fuck it, I was going to say it. "Outside of the bedroom, yes—I love nice men. Inside? Not so much."

I didn't bother mentioning to him that sometimes...I also wasn't very nice in the bedroom.

Oliver's gaze fused with darkness as he dropped a rough exhale. He tried to keep his composure and nearly failed, before managing to flash a grin that didn't match his expression. It was almost mocking in nature. Almost like he was implying I didn't know what I could handle inside of the bedroom.

His words from a few days ago flashed in my mind. You couldn't handle my tastes.

I waited for him to slice the tension. Praying he did. Praying he didn't.

No more words were said, so I changed the subject. "This is the dress I'm going to wear."

His eyes were riveted to my body. "You'll look absolutely stunning with your curves and long legs. A guy can get distracted by you for hours."

Was it possible to feel short of breath from someone's compliment? My cheeks pinkened. "L-Look who's being nice now."

Oliver rose to his full height, a staggering six two, stretching his muscles in the process. He took a step towards me with the intention of crowding me against the closet. But we were both tall—he couldn't intimidate me.

The next words were delivered short of a chuckle, husky and strained. "I'm usually not nice inside of the bedroom."

I'm in trouble.

Oliver winked casually, turning to leave. Yet every line in his body was taut and buzzing with something menacing. "Later, Darling. I gotta get ready for Lucy."

* * *

Wyatt was going to be here in twenty minutes.

Sitting at my vanity, I finished adding my jewelry and carefully painted my lips a deep burgundy red. After spraying my signature fragrance, which housed notes of lavender and ylang ylang and was created solely for me from a parfumerie belly deep in France, I tidied my room.

My stomach clenched when I took in my unmade bed...where Oliver had sat more than two hours ago. Conjuring the image of him rumpled between my silks made me think of bad, bad X-rated thoughts. The kind of lustful musings that had no place being inside my mind when my perfectly hot date was about to pick me up.

Shit.

This was bad.

This attraction, at this heightened level, was bad.

I had enough ladyballs to admit that I was in lust with my best friend. And, not one to brag, I could safely admit that he returned this attraction to a certain extent.

It was etched in his gaze. In his body language.

This was a dangerous game.

We weren't kids anymore. We had to thread carefully.

I stepped out of my room at the same time that Oliver stepped out of his. He did a double-take when he drank in my appearance, whistling appreciatively in greeting.

I smiled, trying not to let my heart soar.

Failing miserably, of course.

Oli wore dark trousers and a black dress shirt with the top buttons undone and sleeves rolled up. It hugged his physique, emphasizing his bulging biceps. I wasn't kidding when I said Oliver had grown more muscular and bulkier throughout the years—he was built like a brickhouse. The chain tattoo on his right forearm jumped to life as he lifted his hand and thrust it into his hair, pushing back the strands from his face.

It was almost on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I loved this length of hair on him. I loved the look of his dark stubble, the smell of his cologne, the watch on his thick wrist and how he looked like sin. Oliver could dress like a classy motherfucker, but a hint of savageness would always lurk.

I hated that his fucking date would get an eyeful of him and...maybe get to kiss him.

Stop thinking about him, Tee. Wyatt is who you should be concerned about.

Would Wyatt try to kiss me tonight?

It had been months since the last time I kissed someone. You couldn't forget how to kiss right? Just like you couldn't forget how to suck dick. Right? Right.

"You look handsome," I told him truthfully.

"You look breathtaking," he returned in a tone laced with awe.

He's done it again, I thought, unable to fight another blush. Oliver leaned against the hallway wall opposite of me, crossing his arms over his chest. Witnessing my face reddening caused a gentle smirk to flirt over his lips.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Oli noticed my fidgeting stance and a frown creased his forehead. "You're nervous. Why?"

"Because I haven't been on a date in forever."

I was actually nervous because something was blossoming between us the more time we spent together. I was scared our banter was leading to something bigger. Each moment like sun rays striking raindrops, splitting into an array of colours, and unravelling different facets of us like a beautiful rainbow. With every conversation, we were reminded of the people we used to be, the people we were now, and the people we wanted to be. Old memories and dreams and ambitions resurfaced. I was once again reminded how easy-going and natural it had been to share all my ruminations with my Himeros.

But it was simpler to tell him that it was the date making me nervous.

Oli assessed me. "If you're worried about the conversation, Wyatt will have plenty to say. He's a chatty guy. Start with football and he'll steer you towards other topics."

I should have just said that yes, that's it. But I was also worried about intimacy. How I hadn't allowed myself to kiss anyone in so long and how...I had a distinct suspicion that Wyatt would be hella game to search for each other's tonsils tonight. "That's not it."

"What is it, Tee?" he whispered softly, coming closer. "What are you so worried about?"

There wasn't enough air in the hallway for both of us to breathe and release years of pent-up frustration. So I held my breath. "That he'll try to kiss me. And I haven't done that in a really long time. So."

Oli's eyes thundered. He didn't realize I was afraid of intimacy because the last time I lowered my guard with a guy, it had gotten me a broken heart, a bruised ego, and a thrashed pride.

He probably took my words as me admitting that I sucked at kissing.

Now he remained quiet, his jaw clenched and the muscle in there jumping.

I shouldn't have said anything. Because that thing blossoming between us? It felt like it was in full bloom at the moment. "Sorry, I—"

"You need practice, Darling?"

My mouth parted on an exhale. "What?"

Oliver didn't know the meaning of a personal bubble. He stepped so close that his robust frame engulfed me. My train of thoughts was jumbled, wrapped in a decadent cocoon of his aftershave and earthy cologne.

He tipped his head down so his mouth rested just beneath my ear. "I'm asking if you need a bit of practice before you go. Just to be sure..."

Every word rasped against my pulse point vibrated inside me like the plucked chords of an instrument. If it weren't for the seriousness twisting his features, I might believe this to be another one of our games.

I didn't know what overcame me.

Maybe it was the heat of the moment and the very essence of Oliver Abhay Ashford infusing into my bones and settling there, warming me like un amoureux in the afterglow of lovemaking.

Because I found myself pleading, "Yes, Oli."

It was like a slow conquest. I felt Oli's smirk against my neck before seeing it. Raising his head, I observed the gold flecks in those eyes as he gazed deep into mine, touching my soul from the outside. He feathered his fingertips over my skin. My forearms to my biceps, stopping for a second to tease the gold cuff I wore, before cupping my shoulders.

His touch ensnared me, teasing over my collarbone like a gentle plume. I was still holding my breath, but I'd never felt more alive. Oliver's hand delved into the hair at the nape of my neck. The other one notoriously travelled over the curve of my throat, before wrapping around my slender column. He didn't clench his fingers. No. He just let me know I was being held hostage for this fleeting moment between us.

I'm definitely in trouble.

And who would have thought I'd like a hand on my throat? Or one fisting the back of my hair? I did. I liked it too much that a small, barely audible, whimper escaped me.

"Tell me, Tee." His tone feigned boredom.

"Hmm." I used this opportunity to graze my palms over the front of that solid torso, coming to rest at those deliciously defined pecs. If he could touch me, so could I.

"Tongue or no tongue, Parisa?"

I licked my bottom lip at the intense look in his gaze—it was a hungry one, the kind right before the need to ravish took over—and fisted the ends of his hair. "Any way you want to give it to me."

He chuckled low, taunting me. "You couldn't handle my tastes, baby."

"Try me."

And he did.

Oliver angled his head and crushed his mouth to mine fiercely, giving me the breath that I'd been holding for too long and permeating my senses with his unique taste. Soothing. Earthy. Minty. A sweet hard candy.

I gasped into our kiss, my hands flying to clutch his shoulders, anchoring myself. Oliver took the opportunity to step even closer, until our chests were flush and the pieces of clothing between us felt like a joke. The fingers around my throat clenched and he tugged at my hair, greedily sipping at my lips like I was the finest wine he'd ever had the pleasure of tasting.

Our mouths moved gently against each other before the kiss turned furious, demanding, and insatiable. I moaned as his velvety tongue trickled over the seam of my mouth, seeking entrance. I gave it to him, my hands slipping into his hair and tugging at his roots. He groaned, the sound echoing inside of me like a song. Our tongues twined and mingled sensually—almost sloppy—before Oliver switched to kissing me dirty, fucking my mouth for all I was worth. The same way I was beginning to guess his cock would if I spread my thighs for him

We kissed like two long lost lovers meeting once more in that space between earth and sky, molding into one phenomenon, sparking lightning where our bodies and hot lips grazed one another, our carnal sounds bursting like a clap of thunder. A thick, dark cloud of lust hung above us, causing us to dive for one another as if we'd never find this moment again.

Oliver and I rained salacious kisses with equal fervour. Sometimes soft, sometimes rough. My inexplicable urges rocked inside of me with urgency and I gave in, scratching my long nails along his stubbled jaw the way I had wanted to do for so long. Oli growled ferally, in the hottest, most panty-melting manner I ever heard. I throbbed all over, desire pooling between my legs. His cheeks hollowed as he thrust his tongue punishingly in the cavern of my mouth, licking and sucking me into submission.

My Oliver was an everlasting fantasy, all my uncontrollable desires and the prince I used to dream about when I was a little girl. The past sixteen years finally led to the moment I've waited my whole life. This perfect kiss between two imperfect souls.

Breathing became a necessity as I yanked away from our earth-shattering kiss, my head falling back against the wall for one beat. Two beat. Before I brought his head back to mine with the fistful of hair I still held. His ragged groan sliced into me, amplifying my need for him. He thrust a hard thigh between my legs, but the material of my dress halted him. He wrenched my ensemble over my upper thighs with a growl, nearly exposing my thong-clad pussy in an effort to get us closer, and I gasped.

My teeth scratched against his jaw before I bit his bristly flesh like I was a hunter draining my prey. Oliver's dark chuckle rumbled in his chest, mocking in nature yet so damn sexy. I moaned, writhing against his thigh like a lap dancer seeking relief.

I panted against his open mouth. "Oli."

"Tee," he snarled. Oliver's hands released my throat and moved down to map my body, learning my curves for the first time until they fell on the globes of my ass. He squeezed, groaning to God like he couldn't believe just how thick I was. Then he delivered a stinging slap to my left cheek. "Goddammit. This. Fucking. Ass. You're so sexy, Darling."

I whimpered, stilling in his embrace, when he delivered another swat against my ass. His hand caught my bare skin.

The fog of lust clouding my brain slowly evaded. My lipstick was wrecked and my eyelids were weighed down by desire and all his praise.

I was a whole mess, kissing my best friend and using his lap like my personal sex toy to get myself off when I had a date in ten minutes with another guy.

Oliver's golden eyes blazed with need and he too looked intoxicated. His hair was wild and his mouth just as kiss swollen as mine, bearing the red traces of my ministrations, of my possessiveness.

I didn't dare glance at his tented bulge.

I released my hold on him, breathing laboured as I fell back against the wall, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat. My desperate hands straightened my dress back down to knee-length in an effort to preserve what was left of my decorum.

Oliver reached forward again to cup my cheek and peck my mouth softly. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and I mewled. "You kiss like that, baby?" His harsh exhales fanned against my mouth. "Then he's a lucky bastard."

"I can say the same about the girl you're taking out tonight."

"Lucia. Her name is Lucia."

"Whatever, Oli."

I gazed away, tugging my strapless neckline higher so my breasts didn't spill out.

Oli's jaw tightened and he licked his own lips, as if savoring the remnant of my taste. Oh, God. "I should go pick her up."

For a second, I felt betrayed, until I realized that this was nothing but practice. I was a fool for looking more into that kiss because Oliver sure as hell wasn't.

I needed to squander this fixation I had with him before it culminated into something I couldn't handle. I rarely got attached to men, but this was Oliver we were talking about.

"Go," I murmured absentmindedly.

"Have fun with Nice Boy." It sounded like a sneer.

I closed my eyes, counting his footsteps until the door of our home opened and shut.

Oliver was going on a date, with my lipstick stains marred all over his mouth like a territorial claim.

We were playing a dangerous game.

None of us won this round.

And we just crossed into unchartered waters. 

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A/N: Excuse meeee. Some of you have been waiting for this since Boundless Ties!! What did you think of Oli and Tee finally kissing?! I swear this story has some of my favorite foreplay scenes. These two are nassssty (and kinky). Until next week, my loves. xo

Chapter goal: 650 votes? xo