Page 103 of Between Desire and Denial
He lifted my leg and crouched a bit to slide his cock into me slowly, inch by delicious inch. “Does this feel like we’re sticking to the plan of me being your fake boyfriend?”
“Dimitri—”
My nails dug into him as he lifted my other leg too. Then he reared back and thrust into me hard. Again and again and again. “You’re. Mine.” Another thrust. “Mine in my bed.” Another thrust. “Mine in the hot tub.” Another thrust. “Mine everywhere.”
“I don’t think—”
His hand went to my throat. “Careful what you say now, Honeybee.”
I couldn’t say a single thing. The heat in the shower when he’d clamped down on my throat increased a hundred degrees, and my body convulsed around him. And I felt how he released himself in me, too, his body flexing and uncoiling the tension he held. He didn’t hold back as he pumped into me.
And when I’d settled against him, he didn’t let me go even as I tried to pull away. Instead, he grabbed his soap and started to wash every part of me—quietly, softly, meticulously.
We showered in silence, but the connection was too loud to ignore. It was getting harder and harder to deny this relationship was real.
I tried not to focus on it and let him carry me to the bedroom downstairs, where he firmly planted me on my side of his bed. “Don’t even think about sleeping in the spare bedroom,” he grumbled.
“Seems like that’s a talk for another day,” I murmured.
“Or never,” he retorted as he turned out the light and circled the bed to get in, completely naked. “You sleep next to me in our house every day.”
“Won’t be our house when you sell it,” I reminded him.
“Not sure I can sell the house when I have memories of fucking you in the hot tub.”
I groaned. “Don’t remind me. I can’t believe we did that in front of Jameson.”
He nuzzled up against me. “I’ll never do that again. Not even for you.”
“Do what?”
“Fuck my girl in front of another man just because she likes it, or just to prove a point.”
“I didn’t— Well, Iwascurious how it would be, and it was…”
“It was what?” He bit my ear.
“Well, I know why people are into voyeurism now.”
He almost snarled. “I’m not. Never again, Olive. These tits, this pussy.” He slid his hand over me, and I moaned. “These sounds are only for me.” He sucked on my neck, and I whimpered as he nipped at my skin. “Do you understand?”
“Dimitri—”
He slid his finger into me again, and I spread my legs, my body ready for anything he was willing to give.
“Say you understand, Honeybee. That you belong to me.”
I knew I did. The truth settled deep in my bones. I said it over and over. But I wondered if he’d feel the same once the news of the Diamond Syndicate came out.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
OLIVE
The next morning,I rolled over, ready to tell Dimitri we had to talk about the society.
Except the man who could sleep in for an hour after me was gone. And I felt the stress of it all weigh down on me as I stared at his empty space. I’d been doing so well with working at the salon and then coming home to practice calligraphy and look at my thesis notes.
But Lucille and Jameson had jumbled up my thoughts on my thesis now.
