Chapter 10 #3
I’m still trembling, my limbs slack as the throb of release fades to a dull ache. The pleasure crested and broke over me like a wave, but as it recedes, it leaves behind a tenderness too raw to soothe on its own.
I reach for his waistband, my fingers hooking into the soft cotton of his sweats as I try to pull him closer, greedy for the heat of him pressed against me.
I want the weight of his body pinning me to the counter.
I want to feel him sink into me until I forget my name and remember only his.
But he catches my wrist before I can drag him closer.
My breath hitches, my body flaring with fresh need. The desperation hits me fast and sharp, curling up my spine, spilling into my throat. I let out a noise that’s half whimper, half plea.
“Nate… Please.” It sounds needy, but I make no attempt to hide it. I want him to know how desperate I am for him.
But he doesn’t relent.
He leans in, forehead brushing mine.
“Use the right words,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing lazy circles against the inside of my wrist. “You want me? Say it, Olivia.”
My lips part, but no sound comes. The words are there—shaking loose in my chest, scraping against my throat—only to fall away before I can give voice to them.
All I can register is him holding me in place when every nerve in me screams to close the distance, to climb into his heat and lose myself there.
His restraint wraps around me like a second skin—unbearable and intoxicating all at once. It heightens the ache I’m trying to subdue, turning it into something more potent than mere desire… Something perilously close to need.
I want his skin against mine, the press of his weight, his breath tangling with my own. I want to be filled, stretched, consumed—bound to him in a way that leaves no part of me untouched.
But Nathaniel doesn’t give in. He waits—patient, implacable—his stillness a force as commanding as his touch. It leaves me straining toward him, undone by the space he insists on keeping.
Then, his voice cuts through the rush in my ears.
“Beg for it.”
The words land like a hand to my sternum—unyielding, inescapable—igniting every raw corner of me. He isn’t denying me. No, he’s drawing my closer, stripping away the pretense. He wants me to lay it bare, to offer not just my body, but my surrender in the confession of how wholly I burn for him.
How can I refuse?
“Please,” I whisper, tugging against his hold. “I just… I need you.”
Nathaniel’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening as though the effort of restraint costs him. His cock strains against the fabric of his sweats, so close I could reach for it if he’d only let me. But his hands are cuffs around my wrists, keeping me suspended in this place where he controls everything.
“Come now, baby…” He tilts his head, his expression is placating. “You know that’s not good enough.”
Heat floods my cheeks. I swallow hard, trying again. “Nate, please, I can’t stand this. I want you so badly—”
“You think I don’t know that? I can see it.”
My thighs press together involuntarily at his words, desperate for friction, but it only makes the ache worse. His mouth curves into something that isn’t quite a smile.
“Look at you… You’re practically shaking.” he drawls, sounding almost sympathetic. “But it’s not right to take without asking, you know better than that… So why don’t you be good for me, Olivia. Tell me exactly what you need.”
I can see it in him too, how badly he wants to give in, from the rigidness of his posture and the unmistakable outline of his erection.
The sight of it makes the throbbing between my legs pulse sharper, and I’m almost dizzy with how badly I want him.
Yet, he holds back, waiting for me to strip myself bare in words as much as in body.
“I want you inside me,” I plead, every syllable frayed with shame and need. “I need to feel you, Nathaniel.” My gaze drops helplessly to the sharp V of muscle disappearing beneath the waistband he won’t yet let me touch.
“Better,” he murmurs, releasing my wrist only to cup my jaw, forcing me to meet his gaze. His thumb strokes slowly, coaxing. “But I need more. Tell me why.”
“I want you inside me,” I try again, breathing heavily. “I love the feel of you, Nathaniel. The way it always burns at first because my body has to yield to you. I want that reminder that I can take all of you, that I can hold you.”
Nathaniel’s calm visage finally splinters. His chest heaves once, shallow, as if viscerally affected by my words. It emboldens me.
“When you’re buried inside me, I don’t feel lacking,” I continue, the words tumbling out, ragged and hungry. “I feel complete. Entirely yours. Chosen. Wanted. Enough. Like I can satisfy you completely, just as I am.”
I imagine him thrusting deep, filling me to the hilt, and the mere thought causes a moan to slip involuntarily from my lips.
“And when you come… I want it inside me.” The words catch, a flush spreading hot across my chest. “Claim me that way. I want to carry it after, proof that I’m yours.”
His pupils are blown wide, and the feral tension in his body tells me he’s seconds from breaking. It only makes me want him more.
“Fuck me, Nate. I want you to fuck me until I can’t breathe.”
His control shatters. His hand fists in my hair, dragging my mouth to his in a bruising kiss, approval and possession in every bite of it. His voice is a growl against my lips: “There’s my perfect girl.”
His praise washes through me, dissolving every other thought, leaving nothing but him. In this moment, I don’t want, I don’t need, I don’t exist outside of being his. It’s…liberating.
Suddenly, the fact that his clothes are still on feels like the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.
“Take this off.” I huff against his mouth as my fingers clutch at his shirt, tugging at the hem until my knuckles graze the hard plane of his stomach. “I want to feel all of you.”
A growl rumbles from his chest, and he obeys—peeling his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. The sight makes my mouth dry.
“You like what you see?” he asks, and there’s a taunting edge in his smile.
I nod, past the point of acting coy. “You’re breathtaking.”
His hands catch mine, guiding them over his chest, down the ridges of his abdomen, until I’m giddy with the need to explore him. He watches me the whole time, hungry and approving, as if every touch I give him is another confession.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs. “Touch me. Take what you want. You’ve earned it.”
And I do. I revel in the solidity of him, the heat radiating off his skin, the way his body is so responsive to me. Desire knots low in my belly, a mix of awe and hunger. He is mine to touch, mine to please, mine to claim as much as he claims me.
My hands slip to the waistband of his sweats, tugging with shameless intent. He catches my eye, mouth curving in that infuriating smirk that says he knows exactly how long he’s made me wait.
This time, he doesn’t stop me. Instead, he hooks his thumbs beneath the fabric and pushes it down himself, letting it fall away in one smooth motion. His cock springs free, thick and eager, with moisture already beading at the tip.
“Put me inside you, baby,” he rasps. “I’ve denied us both for long enough.” His hand grips my thigh as he pulls me closer, lining us up on the edge of the countertop.
I lick my lips and reach down to palm his steely length.
Rock hard, silky smooth, and warm in my hand as I guide him to my slick entrance.
I’m so drenched that he glides inside effortlessly, but the stretch still steals my breath.
My eyes fall shut as he fills me, the sensation burning in the most irresistible way.
“Keep your eyes open, baby,” he rumbles as he squeezes my chin and tips it down. “Stay with me. Watch how perfect we are when we come together.”
I follow his gaze, mesmerized by the sight of him pushing into me, inch by inch. He lets out a long exhale once he bottoms out, almost as if it’s the first time.
He thrusts slowly at first, dragging himself out before sliding back in a few times, lost to the look and feel of our coupling. Then, his lips find mine in a reverent kiss, while his fingers trail across my hip bones as we slowly move against each other.
It’s so, so good—but it’s not enough.
“Stop holding back, Nate,” I beg into his skin, urging him on. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
His eyes are blue flames as his gaze snaps to mine, and that perfectly curated facade finally falls away.
He unleashes on me, his grip brutal on my ass, pulling me to the very edge of the counter as he pounds into me. I wrap my legs around his waist, clinging to his shoulders as he increases the intensity of his thrusts, his thighs slapping lewdly against the backs of mine.
His presses his mouth to my ear. “You satisfy me completely, Olivia.”
The words sear through me, a direct response to what I told him earlier. Nothing I give him ever slips from his grasp.
His lips drag over my jaw, his breath harsh. “You have never been lacking. You complete me, just as I complete you.”
Emotion claws up my throat. The raw conviction in his voice splits me wide open.
“You are mine,” he grits out, his rhythm sharper, harder. “I will always choose you. I will always want you. You are more than enough.”
Tears sting my eyes. He’s giving me back every insecurity, reshaping it into belonging—into being his.
“I’ll take all of you, Olivia. I can hold you.” He presses his forehead to mine as he drives deeper. “Now, I want you to take all of me.”
He starts fucking me with a rhythm that borders on punishing, as if every stroke is a vow he’s forcing into the marrow of my bones. My body shakes with each brutal surge of his hips, the heavy thrum in my pelvis building with each delicious stroke.
One of his hands slides down between us, his deft thumb rubbing my aching clit, bringing me closer and closure to rapture.
“Come for me, baby. Let go.” The words fall from his lips like a direct order to my body. Immediately, heat starts to build in my core.
“Fuck, Nate, I’m going to—”
My orgasm tears through me, a current I can’t contain.
My body shudders as I break apart in his arms. I know he’s watching me with rapt attention—cataloging every gasp, every shiver—focused wholly on my pleasure.
But I have no capacity for self-consciousness.
I’m too lost in the moment, too lost in him, for anything else to matter.
Satisfaction flares in his ocean eyes as he picks up the pace, chasing his own release. I sink my fingers into his hair and tug, earning a groan from him. Then, I run my teeth along his jawline, rasping in his ear, “Give it to me, Nate.”
“Fuck, Olivia—” He snarls and bites down hard on my shoulder, his hands squeezing my hips in time with the pulsing of his orgasm as I feel him jerk and spill inside me.
After a moment, Nathaniel’s weight settles over me, his breath still ragged but slowing.
I feel the thrum of his heartbeat against my chest, steadying as though he’s finally found rest. His hands trace lazy circles at my waist, the kind of absent touch that tells me he isn’t reaching anymore—he has me, and that’s enough.
He’s looking at me like every hunger in him has been satisfied. His gaze is heavy-lidded, soft in a way that makes my chest constrict. When he kisses me, it’s unhurried, like he’s certain I’m not going anywhere.
And for a moment, I let myself believe that’s true.
Because the truth is, with him, it’s easy to forget every reason I doubt myself. When his body is pressed to mine, when he holds me like I’m something irreplaceable, I stop doubting. I stop debating with myself about whether I’m enough. In his arms, I simply am.
But even as I cling to that comfort, anxiety curls at the edges of it. There’s still the rest of my life outside these walls, all the choices I can’t escape. What happens when I can’t choose him? When my world pulls me away, or his feels impossible to reach?
I tighten my arms around him, pressing my cheek into his shoulder as if I can fuse us into one body and keep the questions at bay.
He exhales, content, like he’s finally at peace. And I close my eyes, wondering how long I can keep pretending that I am too.