Chapter 31 Olivia
Chapter thirty-one
Olivia
The cold glass shocks against my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the shock of him inside me. No warning. No gentleness. Just him. Thick, unyielding, filling me to breaking.
I can barely breathe. Every thrust pushes air from my lungs in ragged gasps.
He pulls out.
A long, slow drag that leaves me desperate, empty.
I whimper. My hips push back without permission, chasing him.
“Yeah,” he groans behind me, his hands gripping my hips like a vice. “That’s what I thought. Hungry little cunt can’t stand to be without me.”
He slams back in. Hard. Ruthless.
Giving me exactly what I wanted.
My cry fogs the glass.
“Fuck, War—”
“Say it,” he snarls into my ear, pulling out again, inch by inch, until I’m trembling with the ache. Then he slams forward, filling me to the hilt. “Say you’re mine.”
My eyes squeeze shut. My heart is racing, adrenaline and heat tangling together. The thought of someone in the other building seeing us, watching me spread open like this, makes my stomach twist.
“What if someone—”
“I told you, no one can see.” His voice is a dark rasp against my ear. “But even if they could? You’d love it.”
My stomach flips. Shame tangles with heat.
Because he’s not wrong.
The filthy thought of someone, anyone, in another building watching me pinned to this glass, skirt shoved up, panties torn aside… my pussy squeezes around him so hard it hurts.
He groans, low and triumphant. “See? I can feel it. The way you’re clutching me. You fucking love this, Olivia.”
My cheeks flame. My body betrays me, pulsing around him, soaking him.
Every thrust is brutal, owning. His cock splits me open again and again until my legs tremble and my palms squeak against the glass.
“This is punishment,” he snarls into my hair. “For touching him. For hugging him.”
“I wasn’t—” My protest melts into a moan as his cock drags deep and my walls spasm around him.
“Just say it,” he orders, hips slamming into mine, his hand gripping my jaw, forcing my face against the glass. “Promise that you’re mine.”
I choke on the words. Half shame. Half need.
His fingers circles my clit, sharp and relentless, while his cock pistons into me with punishing force.
“Promise me, Olivia.” His voice is a rough. “Or I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk back to your office. Until every man out there knows exactly who you belong to.”
My head tips back, a sob tearing from my throat as pleasure builds too fast, too sharp.
“I promise,” I gasp, trembling, thighs quaking. “War, I’m yours!”
His growl vibrates against my spine, dark and primal. “Louder.”
“I’m yours!” I cry, the words tearing out of me.
“Fucking perfect,” he groans, hand fisting in my hair, yanking my head back as his thrusts grow ragged. “You’re gonna come for me. Right here. With my cock so deep inside you everyone will know you’re mine.”
My vision shatters. Pleasure detonates through me, raw and devastating, my pussy spasming around him, clenching, dragging him down into my release.
“Yes! Fuck, Olivia,” he groans, pounding once, twice more before he buries himself deep and comes, filling me until I feel it spill down my thighs. His roar shakes the air, primal, savage.
I collapse against the glass, trembling, spent, panting.
He doesn’t move right away. Just holds me there, cock still inside me, chest heaving against my back, his lips brushing my temple.
“Mine,” he murmurs again, softer now. “Always mine.”
He eases out of me with a hiss, tucking himself back into his pants.
He grabs tissues from his desk, wipes me gently, then fixes my panties, smooths my skirt down over my thighs.
He doesn’t say a word while he straightens me out, just does it quietly, reverently, like I’m something priceless he’s putting back in place.
Then he pulls me toward his chair, sinking down and tugging me onto his lap.
I freeze. “War, I’m too—”
His mouth covers mine before I can finish, a kiss that steals my protest and turns it to a sigh. When he pulls back, his hand slides into my hair, brushing it back, his thumb stroking along my cheek. His eyes lock on mine, fierce and soft all at once.
“You’re perfect here,” he murmurs, thumb brushing my cheek. “Exactly where you belong, sweet girl.”
My throat tightens. My pulse pounds so loud it drowns out everything else. He looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world worth holding.
“I can’t stand it,” he admits, voice rough as he presses a kiss to my neck. “Any other man near you—it makes me see red. I need you all to myself. Because I love you. Because I fucking crave you.”
The words dig into me, hot and heavy, and something inside me melts under the weight of them.
Before I can answer, his tone shifts, casual, like flipping a switch. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”
I let out a shaky laugh. “You know what I’m going to say—”
“La Serenata,” he cuts me off, lips twitching. “Yes, yes. You love that place.”
I roll my eyes, reaching to grab the tablet he tossed onto the desk earlier.
“Yes, I do. But I actually came in here to show you something. The Luxe property? It’s actually right near a transitional home for kids aging out of foster care.
They’re struggling financially and it gave me an idea…
maybe the Parker Building could become something like that.
A place for kids who need stability, like Noah once did. ”
For a second, he just stares at me. Then his mouth curves, slow and sharp. “That’s brilliant. And we’ll make sure that center nearby is taken care of, too. We’ll donate.”
“We?” I arch a brow.
“Yes, we.” His voice is final, possessive. “What’s mine is yours. And you are mine.”
The heat that line sends through me leaves me speechless.
Only he could go from wrecking me against a window to domestic bliss like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
That’s Warren Beaumont.
Ruthless. Obsessive. Unpredictably tender.
And I never want to fight it again. I want to always be his.