Page 43 of Nine Months to Bear
The fact that he can form complete sentences while I’m coming apart at the seams seems cosmically unfair. I struggle to remember why I returned, what important revelation brought me storming back to his office.
I gasp as his thumb finds the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs. “I came to r-refuse you. To walk away before this gets—gets—ohmyGod—out of hand.”
He laughs as he fucks me. “And how did that work out?”
“It’s… in progress… You—OhmyfuckingGod.”He hits a spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
“That’s what I thought. All those big plans, and yet here you are.”
“Here I am,” I agree, and the honesty of it—the admission that I’ve failed spectacularly at saving myself from him—pushes me over the edge.
The climax crashes through me like a tidal wave, obliterating thought and reason and, embarrassingly, causing me to stutter so hard that drool pools on my lips. I’m dimly aware of crying out, of my body arching against his, of his grip tightening almost painfully on my hips as he follows me into oblivion.
One stuttering jerk. Another. He fills me.
And then, just like that, it’s over.
My breath comes down to earth. Stefan’s either calmed faster or never got worked up in the first place, because he looks and sounds as composed as he ever does.
He steps away from me and straightens his cuffs while I stare up at the ceiling, panties askew, skirt hiked up, dazed and confused and helpless to do anything but inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
I don’t let myself think. I can’t.
“You planned this,” I whisper again. It’s not quite an accusation. Just a statement of fact.
His laugh is cool once again, not that cruel, primal, heated rasp it was before. “I plan everything.”
I close my eyes. There’s no going back now. No more choices, no more pretending this is just business.
My entire life has been spent chasing perfection. Yet here, in the aftermath of something so reckless, so unprofessional, so unbelievablystupid,I feel a strange peace. As if I’ve been swimming against a current my whole life and finally just said,Fuck it,and let it take me wherever it wants.
Eventually, I peel myself off the sticky desk and try to rearrange my outfit and my dignity.
But the woman who walked in here thirty minutes ago is gone. The life she thought she was living is no longer available.
For better or worse, I belong to the monster now.
18
STEFAN
I jolt awake, sweat-slicked and achingly hard. It takes me a few seconds to remember where I am. I look around my private jet, but the images of Olivia burned against the back of my eyelids don’t dissipate.
In my dream, she was bent over my desk again—just like yesterday—but this time, she was looking deep into my eyes, stroking my face with soft hands. Her amber eyes were seeing way too fucking much.
Her hair was untethered from its perfect bun, cascading down her back. I didn’t properly anticipate how much I’d like seeing the put-together doctor crumble around me.
I do like it, though.
I like it a lot.
I wrapped that hair around my fist and tugged, arching her back. Her blouse was torn open, shiny pearl buttons rolling across the acquisition documents on my desk. If she looked closer, she’dhave seenAster Fertility Solutionsin the fine print. She’d have seen what I was truly planning.
But she was a little preoccupied.
Then the dream shifted. Suddenly, she was facing me, still perched on my desk, her legs wrapped around my waist. But her stomach was swollen with my child, her hands protectively curved around the bump.
“Is this enough for you?”she asked.
