My Burning Desire by RK

Chapter 8

Oliver's POV

I drive into her one last, deep time, my grip tightening on her hips as the final wave breaks over us. I let go completely, spilling myself inside of her—raw, unprotected, and for the very first time, without a condom.

The heavy silence of the bedroom rushes back in, broken only by our ragged breathing.

A second later, I feel the shift beneath me. Her head snaps up, her eyes wide with sudden, sharp realization as she stares up at me in the dim light.

"You didn't use a condom," she breathes out, the words laced with a mix of shock, disbelief, and a flicker of underlying panic.

I freeze, hovering above her, my own heart hammering a heavy, erratic rhythm against my ribs. It wasn't a slip-up, and it wasn't an accident. Deep down, beneath the primal heat of the night, it was a deliberate choice—a line crossed because every possessive instinct in my body demanded it. But seeing the sudden wariness ripple across her face brings the gravity of what I've just done crashing down.

"I know," I say, my voice a low, gravelly rasp as I try to hold her wide-eyed gaze, refusing to look away from the storm brewing right back inside her.

I stare at her hard, refusing to back off and not allowing her an inch to retreat. We need to settle this right now, tonight, before the distance between us can stretch into anything permanent. Tonight was a revelation for me in ways I never expected. Having Janelle as a permanent fixture in my life leaves no room for negotiation or half-measures.

If a baby is born out of this—out of the raw, unfiltered need to completely intertwine our lives—and it secures her to my side forever, I'm all in. Besides, it's past time I got married and started a family, and there is no one else on this earth who is going to bear my name or share my life.

She pulls the sheet tighter around herself, her chest heaving as she stares at me like I've completely lost my mind.

"You can't just decide something like this for the both of us, Oliver," she breathes out, her voice shaking with a mix of fury and disbelief. "A family? A child? You didn't even ask me!"

"I don't need to ask when the answer is already written," I reply, my voice dropping into a low, uncompromising register as I lean closer, trapping her against the pillows. "Tonight changed everything, Janelle. I'm done keeping us a secret, and I'm done pretending we're just temporary. You're mine. And whatever comes next, we face it together."

"A marriage you never asked me about, and now a baby," she breathes out, her voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and hurt. "Where am I in all of this?"

"This is all about you," I say, my hand moving to tenderly stroke her hair, gentling my touch even as my resolve remains absolute. "You are it for me, baby."

"I want to start my life and a family with you."

"Why?" she asks, her eyes searching mine for any hint of doubt. "Why me?"

"We have been together for a year now, and I am ready to move to the next chapter of our lives," I tell her, the truth of it grounding every word. "I want to see our babies growing in your tummy," I growl softly, leaning down to press a possessive kiss to her forehead.

Janelle’s pov

I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady, heavy thud of his heartbeat beneath my ear. My stomach is a tangled mess of knots, twisting with the sheer enormity of everything that has just happened tonight.

First, the public shockwave of him announcing our engagement to the entire company, tearing down the walls of our careful secrecy in a single stroke. And now, taking it all up an entirely different notch by deliberately, irreversibly sealing our fates with the risk of a child.

This frantic, unhinged, impulsive man holding me so tightly in the dark doesn't seem to be the same cold, meticulously calculated Mr. Oliver Reed I’ve spent the last year working for. The man who planned every single meeting down to the minute has completely thrown away his own rulebook—and he did it for me.

A hot, electric thrill races straight through me at his words, settling heavy and undeniable low in my belly. He wants our babies. He wants a real, permanent family with me. The sheer weight of that desire—raw, possessive, and terrifyingly absolute—makes my chest ache.

But as I lie there listening to the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat, a cold shadow creeps into the warmth.

There has been no talk of love.

He wants to lock me down, claim me, brand me with his name and his children, but he hasn't said those three words. Is this just about possession? Is it about control, a corporate acquisition of my body and my future to suit his sudden domestic checklist? Or does he feel something so massive he doesn't even know how to name it yet?

"I know without a doubt," I think, closing my eyes as the bittersweet truth washes over me.

I fell for him way before our secret affair ever began—long before the late nights in the office, the stolen touches, and the quiet whispers in the dark. That was why giving in to him had been so effortless, why resisting him had never really been an option at all. My heart had already been lost to the cold, commanding billionaire CEO long before he ever decided to claim me.

He lifts my chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look up and meet his unyielding gaze in the dim light.

"I'm not letting you go, Janelle," he says, his voice a low, absolute decree that leaves no room for argument. "Come Monday morning, I'm obtaining a special license, and I want us to be married before New Years."

He pauses, letting the staggering weight of his timeline sink in before adding with characteristic practicality, "If you want a big wedding, I suggest you hire a wedding coordinator and let them sort everything out. My parents and a couple of my friends will do."

I shake my head slowly against him, murmuring a soft "no."

Instantly, Oliver stiffens beneath me, the muscles in his chest locking up like solid steel as his jaw tightens.

I quickly press my palm flat against his chest, rubbing a soothing circle over his heart. "I don't want a big wedding," I say, and I feel the sharp, defensive tension instantly drain out of his body, his frame relaxing back against the mattress with a heavy, audible exhale. He thought I was saying no to marrying him at all.

"Just my brother and his family, and Tania," I tell him softly. "I don't have a lot of close friends."

He pulls me tighter, burying his face in my hair, his arms banding around me with a fierce, possessive security.

"We're all that we need, honey," he says against my skin, his voice dropping into a rough, tender hum that finally chases away the last of the storm.

I look up at the clock mounted on the wall. It’s past midnight.

I reach up, cupping his face in my hands, and guide him down to my lips. "Merry Christmas," I whisper against his mouth before kissing him passionately.

Our kiss quickly shifts, morphing into something deeper and heavier. Oliver has always made me feel completely free to experiment with him behind closed doors, always encouraging me to explore new things and take the lead in our lovemaking.

As I pull my mouth away from his, I trail slow, deliberate kisses down his throat. My mind flashes back to the restroom earlier tonight, remembering the sharp, bruising heat of his teeth against my skin. Even now, the dark mark is faintly visible on the flesh of my breast.

A secret part of me has always wanted to mark him back. Admitting it to myself, I realize it's a quiet, driving fetish I've kept hidden.

I dart my tongue out, tasting the salt of his skin as I lick a slow path up his neck. I feel the sudden, sharp hitch in his breath and hear him gasp. Beneath my palm, his heartbeat begins to race wildly.

God, I am so turned on.

Without hesitating, I bite down gently right where I just licked, sinking my teeth into his flesh. Oliver lets out a low, rough growl, his hands gripping me tighter as he crushes me closer against his body, surrendering entirely to the shift in control.

I climb over him, settling astride his hips, and begin exploring every inch of his body. I can feel him instantly hardening beneath me, thick and eager. He always loved having me on top, watching me ride him, letting go of his control just enough to let me take charge.

I catch sight of the red bite mark I left against the column of his throat and grin with a wicked sense of accomplishment, finally understanding the rush he felt when he marked me earlier—that fierce, primal stroke of territorial claim.

Shifting my weight, I sit up slightly and rub my bare p***y against him, a low moan slipping past my lips as I feel him thickening and twitching in response. I want his mouth on me, crave the heat of him. I lean forward, pressing my breasts right in front of his face.

"Take me," I whisper, breathless.

That’s all the invitation he needs. His hands lock onto my hips, anchoring me in place as he pulls me down to his mouth, his tongue sweeping hot and wet over my sensitive skin before he bites down just hard enough to send a blinding jolt of pleasure straight through my core.

I’m still grinding my hips against him, sliding my slick heat over his length while he suckles fiercely at my n****e, alternating back and forth between each one until I’m shivering with need.

"Put me inside you," he commands, his voice rough and ragged against my skin. "I want to be inside you, Janelle."

A perverse, wicked little thrill sparks through me. I want to hold back. I want to give him a taste of his own medicine, making him squirm and beg the way he always leaves me begging. So I don't do what he says. Instead, I push my chest further into his face, offering myself up while keeping my hips locked in a slow, agonizingly rhythmic grind against him.

My legs tangle with his, our skin slick with sweat. I can feel my own juices soaking us both, my body aching with a heavy, driving need for him, but I hold back just to see how much control he actually has left.

I lift one knee up, brushing it heavily against his thick length as I slide past. I hear him hiss sharply.

"Wildcat," he groans, a dark warning vibrating in his chest. "Put me inside you. NOW."

His hands bite into my hips, his fingers digging in with bruising force. Ignoring his command, I drag my knee against him again. I can feel how hard and straining he is beneath me, the friction of our bodies making him even thicker, driving him to the absolute edge of his patience.

"You're playing with fire, Janelle," he warns against my chest, his teeth suddenly clamping down hard over my sensitive n****e.

I scream out, the sharp, blinding intensity slamming into me so hard and fast that my vision blurs. My back arches instinctively, and a trembling, breathless wave ripples through me—I think I might have even had a small, minor climax right there from the shock of it.

"You want me to put you inside of me?" I gasp out, my voice thick with a heady, reckless power. I reach down, taking his heavy, throbbing length in my hand and pressing the tip right against my entrance, teasing us both by rubbing him slick against my core.

He stops his administrations on my breast instantly. The fire blazing in his dark eyes is almost feral.

"Now," he growls, the command vibrating right against my skin.

"I never told you to stop suckling me," I murmur, letting go of his shaft.

He lets out a low, dangerous sound of approval, his mouth immediately latching back onto me. At the same time, I wrap my hand around him again, sliding him back and forth against my slick core. We are both past the point of losing control.

Done playing games, I guide him to my entrance and slide straight down onto him, letting out a long, deeply satisfied moan as he fills me completely. I lift my upper body, arching my back and sinking down until I take every single inch of him deep inside.

I hear him groan a deep, shuddering note of pure satisfaction. His hand locks hard onto my hip, anchoring me to his body—and I start to move.

He watches me with an unwavering, burning intensity that makes my blood run hot and fast through my veins, emboldening me further. I slide my hand up to my own breast, my fingers pinching and pulling at my sensitive flesh. The sight of it pushes him right to the edge; I can feel the raw, possessive hunger vibrating through him.

Oliver loves giving me pleasure, and he always wants to be in absolute control, but when I’m straddling him like this, taking charge, he willingly hands over the reins. I feel his grip tighten on my waist, his fingers digging in as he anchors me.

"I need you," I moan, the words tearing past my lips.

Instead of lying back, he suddenly sits up, surging upward to meet me and sinking even deeper inside my aching core. At the same time, he buries his face against my chest, covering my hand with his and pressing my fingers harder against my n*****s, exponentially intensifying the electric friction.

I start to move faster on top of him, desperately trying to take every single inch of him deeper. He is so impossibly large, stretching me wide—and somehow, he feels like he’s swelling and getting even bigger inside me.

"Ride me harder, baby," he growls against my skin, his voice rough and thick with raw need.

My thighs clamp tight around his hips as I feel him surge upward, matching my rhythm, desperate to drive himself even deeper inside me.

Reaching down, I slide my hand between us toward his sack, wanting to tease him right to the edge and make him lose control first. But the second my fingers brush against him, his hand shifts, his thumb pressing expertly and firmly against my c**t.

The friction is too much, shattering what little restraint we have left.

We both come with a raw, shattered roar, crashing over the edge together. I squeeze around him, trembling violently as I feel him pulsing and emptying himself deep inside me, claiming me completely.

I collapse forward against his chest, catching my breath with a slow, deeply satisfied grin spreading across my face. This time, there is no fear or hesitation left in me—only the quiet, unshakeable certainty that I know what I want, and I want the family he promised.