Fated To Not Just One, But Three - 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.

He kept his pace relentless, the pounding deep and steady, and I could feel the tension coil tighter and tighter in my core with every powerful thrust.

“Say it, Olivia,” he demanded, his voice a low, rough growl by my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Say you forgive me.”

But the words wouldn’t come. Only pleasured gasps and moans could escape my throat.

He drove in one last, agonizingly deep time, and I felt the world dissolve entirely. My body 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, ragged groan escaping his lips as he released inside me.

He held still for a long moment, breathing hard into my neck, his body heavy and warm against mine.

Then, with a slow, drawn-out groan, Levi pulled out, the sudden separation leaving me feeling momentarily lost and cool. He didn’t step away, though. Instead, his strong hands settled firmly on my waist.

“Not done yet,” he murmured, his voice still thick with desire, the hint of a predatory smile touching his lips.

Before I could fully process it, he smoothly turned me around on the edge of the mahogany desk. I braced my hands flat on the cool wood, my ass facing him, my body still trembling from the intensity.

He didn’t waste a second. He gripped my hips, pulling me back against him until he was perfectly aligned. He drove into me again, this time from behind, the angle deeper and more brutal than before. I gasped, the sudden new invasion sparking a fresh surge of need.

He leaned forward, pressing his chest against my back, his mouth finding the sensitive skin of my neck and shoulder. His left hand wrapped tightly around my hip, anchoring me to the desk, while his right hand came around my chest.

His fingers found my nipples, already hard and sensitive from our previous intensity. He played with them, pinching and teasing the tips as he began to move inside me with a fierce, punishing rhythm.

The combination—the deep, pounding pressure inside, the sharp, exquisite tug on my chest—was too much, too fast. My spine arched, and a sound that was half-scream, half-plea tore from my throat.

“Look what you do to me,” he whispered savagely into my ear, his voice ragged with desire as he continued to drive into me, pushing us both toward the edge once more. “You’re mine, Olivia. Always.”

I couldn’t answer. I could only hold onto the desk, completely lost in the fierce way he was making love to me. It wasn’t just sex; it was a desperate, raw fight for our connection.

Levi was losing control. His breathing was ragged, and his movements got harder and faster. Each powerful push shook my whole body. My hips lifted off the desk, trying to pull him deeper. This was the hardest he had ever taken me, and the speed made my head spin. I felt a sweet, blinding rush building fast.

My body was on fire, every muscle tight. I squeezed my eyes shut, and I was seeing stars exploding behind my lids. The pleasure was so strong, so overwhelming, it wiped away all the pain and guilt. I cried out his name, a desperate, broken sound lost in the heat of the room.

He kept going, holding my hips tight, his thumb circling my nipple. We were so engrossed in the moment, in the raw pleasure, that we didn’t hear the door open or someone walk in.

We didn’t know we were no longer alone until we heard a voice cut through the air—a voice that was cold, hard, and full of absolute shock and anger.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

The sound was like a bucket of ice water.

Levi froze instantly, his body locking rigid inside mine. His powerful movement stopped, and the room went dead silent, thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

My eyes snapped open, and I tried to turn my head. Levi’s grip on my hip tightened painfully, trying to hold me still, but it was too late. I followed the line of his sudden, wide-eyed stare.