Page 163 of Nine Months to Bear

He doesn’t give me time to recover, either. He carries me to the bed and drops me onto the dark sheets. “Strip,” he orders.

My hands shake as I peel away what’s left of my ruined dress, then my bra and panties. He watches every second, scarcely breathing, never blinking.

When I’m completely bare, he starts on his own clothes. Each button of his shirt reveals more tattooed skin, more scars.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he says, stepping out of his pants. “How long I’ve wanted to own you completely.”

“Then do it. Own me.”

His eyes flash again, more molten and mischievous than ever before. Then he kneels at the foot of the bed. His breath ghosts over my inner thigh. “Spread.”

I obey before the command fully registers. I’m so wet that the air feels frigid. Stefan’s teeth graze the crease of my leg, a fanged promise against the thunder of my pulse.

Then his tongue licks a stripe up my center.

“Oh, God?—”

“Quiet.” He pins my hips to the mattress. “Let me taste you.”

He doesn’t ask permission. Doesn’t need to, though if he did, I’d tell him to do anything he wants to do to me forever.

His mouth closes over my center with a growl that vibrates straight to my core. I fist the sheets as he works me like he was born to do it. Broad strokes, then delicate flicks that make my thighs tremble. His stubble scratches sensitive skin. Perfect friction.

“S-Stop teasing?—”

He sucks hard.

My back rises off the bed. “Stefan!”

He drinks me like a man starved, fingers digging bruises into my hips. It’s not long before the orgasm slams through me brutally, wringing a choked scream from my throat. He doesn’t let up, licking through the aftershocks until I’m sobbing.

“Good girl. You’re such a good girl when you make those sounds for me.”

He surges up my body, cock heavy against my thigh. But before he can enter me, I push him onto his back.

“Hold on. Your turn. I can give and take at the same time. Can you?”

His eyes flare dark as I straddle his face with a daring wink. “Careful, little fox.”

I trail my wetness over his parted lips. “Quiet,” I say with a sly grin, stealing his words. “Letmetasteyou.”

His hands lock around my thighs as I lower myself. The first pass of his tongue wrings a moan from us both. I rock against his mouth, dizzy with power. His groan vibrates through me when I bend over and fist his cock.

He tastes like salt and steel. I take him deep, hollowing my cheeks.

“Fuck.” His hips jerk. “Olivia?—”

I hum, swallowing him to the root. His curse cracks halfway through.

We move in filthy tandem, a circuit of giving and taking pleasure—my mouth on him, his on me. The room fills with wet sounds and broken gasps. His grip tightens as I quicken my pace.

“Enough.” He drags me off, flipping me onto all fours. “If I’m not inside you in the next five seconds, someone’s going to die.”

The first thrust steals my breath. He fills me completely, one hand fisted in my hair.

“Look.” He yanks my head toward the mirror across the room. “Watch me take what’s mine.”

Our reflection blurs with each punishing stroke—his muscles flexing, my breasts swaying, sweat-slick skin catching the low light. His free hand slides between my legs.