Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 467

Chapter 467: Sex In The Study

Olivia’s POV

The moment his lips found my inner thigh, the world outside this room vanished. His whispered words—"I love you"—didn’t just resonate; they became the only truth. A fierce, possessive kind of love that mirrored the terrifying depth of my own.

I tugged at the back of his neck, urging him closer, wanting to feel him, all of him, not just hear the confession. "Show me, Levi," I breathed out, the command husky, desperate.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

He lowered his head, and the light, tentative touch became a hungry, demanding kiss that stole my breath. A gasp tore from my throat, raw and unrestrained, as a shockwave of pleasure unlike anything I’d ever known arced through me. The feeling was electric, a searing brand that reminded me exactly who I belonged to, in every sense of the word. My nails dug into the firm muscle of his back, anchoring myself to him as the intensity ratcheted up, eclipsing thought, guilt, and memory.

He worked with a devastating, focused need, his tongue and lips mapping every sensitive peak. The desk pressed coolly against my skin. My body arched, a natural, involuntary response to the flapping of his tongue in my pussy.

"Levi... please," I choked out. I was running out of patience. I needed him inside me.

He paused, a low, guttural sound rumbling in his chest, a sound of control barely contained. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine—dark, blazing, and completely consumed. He rose, his hands not leaving my thighs, his gaze never leaving my face. The sheer raw intensity in his eyes was the most beautiful, terrifying thing I’d ever seen.

He stood before me, chest heaving, his half-open shirt a mess. He finished what I had started moments ago, yanking the rest of the clothing away with quick, impatient movements. I watched, my chest tight, as he released the zipper of his pants.

The sight of him, hard and ready, was the final trigger. My own body was aching, thrumming, a chaotic mess of sensation.

He reached down and settled his hands around my hips, tilting me forward on the desk’s edge, positioning me with a possessive strength that I craved. He leaned in, his mouth finding mine in a brutal, urgent kiss. It was a kiss of reunion, of claiming, a furious battle of two people trying to pour every unspoken word and every regret into a single, desperate act.

Then, with a low groan that vibrated against my lips, he drove into me.

The connection was immediate, an instant, painful completeness that had me crying out against his mouth. He filled me entirely, banishing the emptiness, the loneliness, the cold space that had been there since we started this painful dance. It wasn’t gentle; but I loved it.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine again, a final, silent check. "Olivia," he whispered, his voice thick with a tortured emotion I knew was mirrored in my own eyes.

I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Don’t stop," I begged, clutching his shoulders.

That was all he needed.

He began to move, slow and deep at first, then accelerating into a powerful, rhythmic pace that rocked my world. Each thrust was a hammer blow, driving out the pain, replacing it with pleasure so sharp it bordered on agony. I threw my head back, losing myself in the dizzying sensation, the sound of skin on skin, the scent of him, the raw power of his body moving against mine.

My vision blurred, and a scream of pure, unadulterated release tore from my throat as I bucked against him.

He held me tighter, burying his face in the crook of my neck, his own ragged, guttural cry joining mine as he fucked me harder.

"Forgiven?" he finally rasped against my neck, circling his waist as he hit my G-spot.

I didn’t answer with a word. I simply tightened my hold on him and released a soft moan of pleasure.

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