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 canseeit.”
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 withoutasking, you know better than that… So why don’t you be good for me, Olivia. Tell meexactlywhat 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. “Ineedto 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 needmore. 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 buthim. 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.
