Oliver battled an internal war, trying to tame the beast within—the hellhound that stirred each time Anna was near. He couldn't let it take control, not now. Not when she lay beneath him, fragile and beautiful. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Not even a scratch.
"Are you okay?" Anna asked gently, reading the tension in his face. "Did I scare you… because I told you I'm still a virgin?"
Oliver looked down at her, surprised by her concern. "No," he said softly. "In fact, I'm happy. I'm a virgin too."
Anna's eyes widened. "What? Seriously? How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I'm twenty-five," Oliver replied, still resting gently above her. "And you?"
"Thirty," she said, instantly flustered. She covered her face with her hands, but Oliver kissed each of her knuckles, making her heart race. She pulled his face down and kissed him.
Their lips met in a hungry passion, breaths stolen between kisses. His hands burned like fire on her thighs—he was so warm, it was like touching sunlight. She didn't care if he set her skin ablaze, as long as he stayed close.
---
The next morning, Oliver entered the bedroom with a tray—coffee and a simple breakfast.
"Good morning, my queen," he greeted.
Anna sat up abruptly. "Wait! It's morning already?"
Oliver flinched at her sudden movement. "Yes... is something wrong?"
"I have to go to work! I'm a lecturer, remember?" she said in a rush, gathering her clothes.
Oliver's heart sank. He knew her schedule. He chose last night for their date because she had no lectures today. But now, watching her hurry away, it felt like rejection. Maybe she just wanted to get away. He said nothing.
---
Later that afternoon, Oliver met up with Molly—Anna's younger brother—at the campus café. They sat with their phones, deep in an online game, but Oliver's face remained downcast.
"You good?" Molly asked, noticing his silence.
Oliver sighed. "You remember the lecturer I told you about? The one I like? We spent the night together. This morning, she just rushed out. Now I feel like maybe… I didn't measure up."
"She probably had a lot on her plate," Molly said, sipping his drink. "You know lecturers—they're always busy. Don't overthink it."
Oliver nodded, grateful for the reassurance. "Thanks. What about you?"
"My girlfriend dumped me this morning. Day three. I'm cursed." Molly chuckled, pretending not to care.
"You'll find the right one," Oliver smiled, patting him on the shoulder.
---
Back in her office, Anna was buried in assignment prep, her stomach growling. She'd skipped breakfast and suddenly remembered Oliver.
She texted: "Hey, have you eaten yet?"
The response was immediate: "No, I was about to. Want me to pick you up?"
"Yes, please. I'm too hungry to drive," she replied, relieved he wasn't upset.
When she slid into the passenger seat of his black Porsche, she asked playfully, "Where are you taking me?"
"Anywhere you want. Surprise me."
"Just drive," she smiled. "All I can think about is my mom's food. She makes the best dishes—I miss her cooking."
"We could go to your home," Oliver offered, eager to meet her family.
Anna blinked. That was bold. Most men feared meeting the parents. Did I just think of him as my partner? she wondered. We're not even there yet… right?
"No, it's okay," she said quickly. "I'm just craving meat. I could eat a whole cow right now."
They pulled into a rustic outdoor meat restaurant she loved. The owner, Tom, greeted her warmly—but this time, skipped the usual hug. She understood. Oliver was with her.
Oliver, however, felt something dark rise inside. His hellhound snarled at the other man's approach. His stare was enough to make Tom step back and simply gesture them to their table.
"Should I order for you?" Anna asked, cheerful again.
"Sure, I eat anything," Oliver replied. Dogs eat anything, he thought wryly.
But he was floored when the food came: pork belly, cow trotters, a whole chicken, and turkey. Did I wear her out that much last night?
"I hope it's not too much," Anna said between bites. "I'm starving. I don't normally eat like this."
Oliver watched her in awe, not touching his plate. Is she turning into a hellhound too? But no—hellhounds are born, not made. Still, he couldn't stop worrying.
After the meal, Oliver asked, "Would you like to go away with me this weekend?"
Anna lit up. "I'd love to! It's been a while."
"Are you not hungry?" she asked, noticing his untouched food.
"Not really. But I could grab something to-go, maybe for later. We could eat together—at your place or mine."
"Mine," she said, standing. "I still have work to do."
---
Later, at her apartment, Anna slipped off her heels. "I'm so tired. I need a shower."
"Can I join you?" Oliver asked.
She smiled. Exactly what I wanted to hear.
In the shower, he scrubbed her back gently, water cascading down their bodies like a silk curtain. Then he whispered, "I love you."