Page 165 of Nine Months to Bear

Any pithy comeback dies on my lips as he doubles down, fingers joining his mouth in a rhythm that has me arching off the bed. I’m almost jealous of his focus. Nothing else in the world exists besides getting me exactly where he wants me to be.

“Stefan, I’m going to?—”

“Yes, you are.” His fingers curl inside me and find that spot that makes me see stars. “Right… about…now.”

He’s right. Goddamn him, he’s so fucking right. The orgasm bolts through me. My thighs clamp around his head as I ride it out. He doesn’t stop until I’m pushing at his shoulders, oversensitive and gasping.

“Satisfied with yourself?” I pant as he crawls up my body, looking entirely too pleased.

“Getting there.” He kisses me, letting me taste myself on his lips. “How’s the morning sickness?”

“Seriously?That’syour pillow talk?”

“I’m being considerate.”

“You just had your face between my legs for twenty minutes. I think we’re long past considerate.”

“Fifteen minutes, max. You were easy this morning. “ He nips at my jaw. “And you didn’t answer the question.”

“I feel fine.” I push at his chest until he rolls onto his back, then swing my leg over to straddle him. “Better than fine, actually.” His hands find my hips, but I intervene and pin his wrists to the mattress. “Oh, no, no, no. It’s my turn.”

“Olivia—”

“Shh.” I grind against him, feeling him hard and ready beneath me. “I’m busy.”

His eyes flash with that dangerous heat I’ve come to crave. “You’re playing with fire, little fox.”

“Then burn me away, Mr. Safonov.”

I release his wrists to position myself, then sink down onto him in one smooth motion. We both groan at the sensation—him filling me completely, me tight around him.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, hands returning to my hips with bruising force.

“That’s the idea.” I start to move, slow and deliberate, watching his face contort with pleasure and frustration. “Why do you look so mad about this?”

“Because you’re going to be the fucking death of me.”

“What a way to go though, right?”

He sits up suddenly, changing the angle, making me gasp. One arm bands around my waist while the other hand tangles in my hair.

“Enough teasing,” he growls against my throat.

“Make me.”

“With pleasure.”

He flips us without withdrawing, pinning me beneath him. The next thrust is deep and savage, stealing my breath. He sets a punishing pace that has me clawing at his back, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Look at me,” he commands when my eyes flutter closed.

I force them open, meeting his intense gaze. There’s something raw there, beyond lust. Something that makes my chest clench with emotion even as my body races toward release.

“Mine,” he says, and it’s not possessive so much aswondering. Like he still can’t quite believe it.

“Yours,” I agree. Then, because I can’t help myself: “And you’re mine.”

“Yes.” He kisses me hard, swallowing my moan as his hand finds where we’re joined. “Always.”