The Prodigal Daughter Got Her Lick Back

The Night We Met Again

Chapter Three

Oscar's Point of View

I wasn't the type of man to walk up to a woman and start a conversation.

Neither was I the type of man who would see a woman and be drawn to her beauty, charisma, or the confidence she exuded.

Since high school, girls had always thrown themselves at me because I was very attractive and had a nice physique. They would write love notes, which I sometimes never bothered to read, give me gifts I never needed, and shower me with praises that I sometimes found overwhelming.

The female teachers were no exception. They treated me with an unusual level of respect and tender affection and would check up on me from time to time as though I were a politician's child.

When I got into university, the attention I received was infuriating and even worse than it had been in high school. Girls wanted to hook up with me at the slightest opportunity they got, the guys wanted to mingle without forming a bond, and the lecturers gave me special attention that made me rethink my stay at Harvard.

Whilst I was still contemplating whether or not I should drop out, I encountered a very attractive girl in the library one fateful Friday morning.

She was all smiles, kept to herself, and was engrossed in the book she was reading. Her blonde hair was packed into a high ponytail. Her eyes, which were deep blue and almond-shaped, were shielded by transparent sunglasses, while her lips, which were the most beautiful cupid's-bow lips I had ever seen, were adorned with bright red lipstick.

Each of her features complemented the others, and her slender physique, coupled with her dewy, glowing skin, made her appear like a model.

She didn't look like she needed company because, from a distance, one could see how comfortable she was in her own space.

Prior to that moment, I had wanted to grab a limited-edition psychology textbook in preparation for my final master's examinations, but I didn't.

The new stranger had me in deep amusement.

I settled two seats away from her and stole glances at her countless times. Even the librarians noticed.

This continued for about forty minutes until I dozed off.

I woke up an hour later and discovered that she was gone.

Even worse, it was raining heavily.

I hated myself.

Why didn't you summon the courage to walk up to her? I remembered scolding myself.

I left the library in the rain, unhappy. By the time I got to my car in the parking lot, I was drenched from head to toe and wallowing in regret.

I went to the library countless times, thinking I would encounter her again, while bearing in mind not to make the mistake of failing to start a conversation with her.

But I never saw her.

The librarians didn't know who she was either.

I asked a couple of students who usually came to the library. Some said they didn't know who she was. A couple said they'd seen her countless times. The remainder who claimed to know her actually didn't; they just wanted to keep speaking to me and throwing themselves at me.

I finally gave up after trying for five months to no avail.

Maybe she wasn't the right one, I convinced myself.

PRESENT DAY

Six years later, I saw her again in the nightclub, seated separately from the others.

At first, I didn't actually think it was her.

She looked different.

The blonde hair I remembered from the library now fell in soft waves around her shoulders, framing a more mature face. Her features had become more defined, and the youthful softness I remembered had been replaced by a sophisticated beauty.

She was still slender, still breathtaking, but there was something different about her now.

Something more alluring.

Then I saw her eyes.

Deep blue.

Almond-shaped.

Unforgettable.

On a second look, I discovered that it was her.

Amelia.

My body surged with alarm, and I excused myself from my guys instantly.

I had just suffered a terrible heartbreak, and seeing her somehow softened the pain.

Thankfully, one of the girls around her was looking in my direction, and I summoned the courage to ask for her audience.

She walked up to me and introduced herself as Clara. We had a brief chat. During our conversation, I told her I would like to speak with her friend.

She was glad and relieved, considering the fact that her friend was vulnerable and looked emotional from where she was seated.

Though she never disclosed what the matter was with her, she agreed to help link me with her.

Who would believe I had just finished kissing the girl who had given me sleepless nights for six years?

“Do you want to go somewhere?” I asked, breaking the tension between us.

She stared at me deeply.

Very deeply.

I almost lost control of myself.

“Yes. If only you don't stop the fun,” she said with a narrowed, squinted gaze.

A couple of minutes later, I led her out of the club, grinning hard because I knew I wouldn't f**k it up this time.

—

I lodged in a hotel ten minutes from the club.

While I drove, she talked about her experience at Harvard. Some things I could relate to, some I couldn't, and with the rest, I wondered why things had been that way.

She confessed to having a personal bodyguard while on campus and another at her apartment outside campus.

She said her father was strict and that, as the last child and second daughter, he was very protective of her.

For some reason, I envied her.

Her situation was quite common among the other billionaire children at Harvard at that time.

If only I had protective parents.

I couldn't help but think about my father.

Yet, I refused to let her know that I was a Harvard graduate and avoided talking about knowing her prior to this moment.

The conversation flowed smoothly.

The laughter was impeccable.

And at times when we weren't speaking, I would catch her stealing glances at me and vice versa.

It got to a point where I couldn't control myself, and my bulge decided to embarrass me.

The most embarrassing thing was that she noticed but was quick to look away.

—

We got to the hotel at exactly 11:45 p.m., and at that same moment, it started to rain.

It poured down heavily.

She asked that we wait in the car for the downpour to soften, but it didn't.

We soon got bored of talking, and I loosened the seats until they fell flat.

We lay sideways, and silence followed afterward.

For minutes, neither of us spoke until I began to caress my face.

“You are the most striking man I've ever seen, Oscar!” she confessed in a light tone.

My heart steadied across my chest in surprise.

“I didn't know—”

Instantly, she placed a hand over my mouth, shutting me up.

“Make love to me.”

I blinked in disbelief.

“I want you to make love to me, here and now,” she added persuasively, her tone desperate.

I told her I had no condoms.

She said she didn't mind if I didn't.

I found her lips, and she let herself go freely.

Wanting her as badly as she wanted me scared me.

But as her legs went up to my shoulders and my manhood slid carefully into her walls, I lost every ounce of fright and became a man.

She let out a soft moan and asked me to bend a little.

I obeyed.

In that moment, my c**k fully slid into her p***y, and the warmth of her walls welcomed me whole with a consuming sweetness.

Slowly, I started stroking while letting a manly groan escape my mouth.

Our bodies became sweaty in no time, fueling the passion.

Our breaths caught in soft exhales as I pressed my lips against hers, an attempt to savour the moment fully while burying my c**k deep inside her in light strokes.

She was trembling nonstop.

Her hips moved to the rhythm of my thrusts.

Her fingers were loose—in my hair, against my n*****s, on my back, and across my face.

Her moans were louder than mine.

Raw.

Passionate.

Eerie.

It was as if she'd dreaded this moment her whole life.

The more I thrusted, the more her walls enveloped me in sweetness.

Moments later, I felt a sensation in my abdomen and pressed hard against her, feeling her hardened n*****s and enlarged breasts against my chest.

In an instant, I let out a loud scream and shook violently as I emptied my seed inside of her.

Her legs jilted slightly, and I released my c**k from her.

Turning to each other, we kissed and lay back on the seat.

The mixture of her p***y juices, my manly seed, and our sweaty bodies hung heavily in the air, but I was too tired to turn on the air conditioner.

It was still raining when I eventually dozed off.

—

THE NEXT MORNING

The next morning, I woke up tired to my bones and realized I was in the car and naked.

Thank goodness the car windows were tinted.

Panicking, I sat up, my mind spinning.

It was then I remembered what had transpired the previous night.

There was a woman.

Amelia.

Except for the fact that she was gone.