Fated To Not Just One, But Three

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.

low groan that vibrated against

connection was immediate, an instant, painful completeness that had me crying out against his mouth. He filled me entirely, banishing the emptiness, the

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

pulling him deeper.

all

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

pure, unadulterated release

in the crook of my neck, his own ragged,

my neck, circling his

word. I simply tightened my hold on

the pounding deep and steady, and I could feel the tension coil tighter and tighter in my core

it, Olivia," he demanded, his voice a low, rough growl by my ear, his breath hot against my skin.

the words wouldn’t come. Only pleasured gasps and moans

convulsed around him, another wave of pure, shattering release sweeping through me, pulling a final, choked cry from my lips. His own body tensed, a final,

moment, breathing hard into my

momentarily lost and cool. He didn’t step away, though. Instead, his strong hands

murmured, his voice still thick with desire, the hint of a predatory smile

edge of the mahogany desk. I braced my hands flat on the cool wood, my ass

me again, this time from behind, the angle deeper and more brutal than before. I gasped, the sudden

shoulder. His left hand wrapped tightly around my