“I need you to come for me again.”
“I—I c-can’t?—”
He touches my clit. “Yes,lisichka,you fucking can.”
The third orgasm rips through me with a scream.
He pauses for just long enough to let me catch my breath, then he throws me on my back and crawls on top of me.
“Who do you belong to?” he snarls as he lines up.
“Stefan—”
“Answer the fucking question.”
He’s withholding himself from me, and as spent as I am, I need him inside me right now. The emptiness is killing me.
“You!” I whine. “You!”
“Who’s going to take care of you and our baby?”
“You are.”
“That’s right.” He nods and licks his lips. “Mine. All fucking mine.”
Then he slides home and I feel full again, complete again.
The orgasm builds again, different this time—deeper, more consuming. When it hits, I scream his name, my nails raking down his back hard enough to draw blood.
He follows me over, burying his face in my neck as he empties himself inside me with a broken groan.
We lie there afterward, breathing hard, my head on his chest as he traces patterns on my bare shoulder.
“No going back now,” I murmur into his torso with a hoarse laugh.
“No,” he agrees. “And no knowing what’s to come. But for the first time in my life… I think I’m okay with that.”
60
OLIVIA
I’m in that hazy space between sleep and waking when I feel something. It takes me a second to realize what it is: warm breath against my inner thigh, hands spreading me open, a tongue that knows exactly where to touch.
“Stefan…?”
“Mmm.” The vibration of his response against me makes my hips buck. “Don’t move.”
“What are you— Oh, God?—”
His mouth closes over me with purpose. My hands find his hair and tug hard enough to make him groan.
“G-good m-morning to you, too,” I gasp.
He pulls back just enough to speak. “Shh. I’m busy.”
“Busy doing what, exactly?”
“Worshipping you.” He punctuates this with a long, slow lick that makes my toes curl. “Now, shut up and let me work.”