Page 96 of Nine Months to Bear
She cries out—and just like that, I know she isn’t acting anymore.
Her body remembers mine. The wet heat of her grips me, silky-smooth. My hands find her hips and guide her up and down.
She collapses against me, her face nuzzled in my throat. When she whimpers in my ear, it becomes beyond obvious that she thought one fast, sneaky little blowjob would be enough to get her way. She thought I’d be that easily convinced.
In some ways, she was right.
She just underestimated my hunger.
“Tell me the fucking truth,” I demand as I gather up a handful of her hair and peel her head back so she has no choice but to look me in the eye. “Tell me what you really wanted when you came in here. Not a meeting. Not freedom. What was it?”
“You,” she breathes out. She’s so lost in sensation that I know it’s the truth. “Please, Stefan. Please let me come.”
I don’t want it to end that fast, but the unexpectedness of this encounter is fucking shredding my self-control to pieces. And she’s so tight, and so wet, and so fucking beautiful when she whimpers like that…
And her body is right there, breasts bouncing in front of me, hot breaths escaping her lips on every moaned exhale…
And she’s sodesperate,so needy,in a way no one ever dares to be around me, because I’m the kind of man who takes and takes, a selfish bastard, a cruel son of a bitch, that’s all I am…
Fuck it. So be it.
She sought me out.
Maybe, for once, I can give.
So I do. I give her my orgasm and I give her hers. We claim them greedily at the same time as I empty myself in her for the second time in the last twelve hours.
That’s not my biggest sin, though. My biggest sin is that, right as I’m almost there, I impulsively lean forward and kiss her.
That’s how we come: sealed together at the waist and sealed together at the mouth, sharing a single breath of air back and forth.
It’s only when my orgasm is finally finished ravaging me that I realize what I’ve done and break away. Olivia collapses against me, too weak to hold herself up right.
Still wrapped around me, she whispers against my ear, one last time, “… Please.”
I don’t know who manipulated who anymore. I no longer know where the game ends and real desire begins—foreitherof us.
The same way it did when she dropped to her knees, my resolve crumbles.
“One hour,” I grit out. “You get one hour… and I wait in the car.”
“Thank you, Stefan.”
I feel her soften with relief.
And, fucking hell… I like knowing it was because of me.
40
OLIVIA
The black Maybach feels like a clown car. I’m shoved against the passenger-side door, as far away as I can physically get, but I might as well be straddling Stefan’s lap with how close we feel.
A heated urge spreads through my core at the image.Well, there’s an idea.
No, there fuckingisn’tan idea. I need to focus. Big meeting, important client. Focus. Lock in. Pay attention. Your clinic might depend on this.
But I can’t. Not when I’m too aware of each breath Stefan takes, the subtle flex of his fingers on the steering wheel, the tensing of his thigh when he shifts gears.
