A Bird in the Oven - Kata Cuic Page 0,28

and my brain is only barely functioning. “Don’t...let…me…again…”

She chuckles a little and even the slight reverberations against my chest are torture. “It’s okay. I read that even if a woman orgasms up to forty-five minutes after the man deposits his sperm, it’s still effective at boosting chances of conception.”

“No,” I pant against her neck. “Hurt…you.”

“It’s okay,” she murmurs against my ear, her lips tickling me like a thousand shards of glass. “I’m okay.” She tunnels her fingers through my hair and glides her hand along my back.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

The steadiness and predictability of the sensation focus my senses.

“Not okay. Do not let me again. Slap me out of it.”

“Do you mean snap you out of it?” she whispers.

“No. Slap. Face. You are not any woman. You are Liv.”

“What does that mean?” She kisses my cheek so tenderly, it creates my own tears. “Ollie? What does that mean?”

“Your…name.” Breathing is returning to normal. Brain activity not so much.

“I still don’t know what that means.” She rubs her lips against my cheek.

It is too much.

“Without you, I exist.” Deep breath. In. Out. Release. “With you, I live.”

11

Olivia

The sensation of lips dragging across my bare back rouses me. I smile into the pillow and repress the urge to squeal. Instead, I wriggle my legs beneath the blankets and immediately wince.

“I’m sorry, Liv,” he sighs against my skin, his hand the slightest caress around my shoulder and down my arm. His solid body warms my back. “I can do better. I will do better. I promise. I know how to be gentle.”

A low, throaty chuckle rasps through my dry lips. “Don’t apologize. Last night was amazing.”

“You are obviously in pain.” He kisses the side of my neck, surprising me with the dart of his tongue against my skin.

“You gave me fair warning,” I whisper, rolling my head back to give him all the access he desires. “I told you I could handle it. Remember?”

“I do not remember much of what was said. Only the sensations,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my skin as he speaks. “I am also sore, which is a very serious problem. There is no possibility to test stronger morning sperm counts and different positions now. I have also completely negated the need to test how many sessions a day either of us can withstand. The obvious answer is one. That will limit our chances of conception.”

I’m just happy he isn’t calling it off at the first sign of defeat. Oliver doesn’t deal well with failure. At anything.

I pull his arm around me, tugging him closer. “That’s not necessarily true. You said you know how to be gentle. We simply need to begin with gentle intercourse then gradually progress to the rougher stuff.”

He huffs out a frustrated sigh of hot breath against my neck. His hand latches onto my breast, and he squeezes firmly. Judging by the stiff rod poking into my ass, he’s not completely out of commission.

Suddenly, he pulls away and sits up on his side of the bed.

I roll over to find him scrubbing his face with his hands a little too harshly.

“I think I know what the problem is. I require you to remain clothed at all times.”

My grin threatens to split my face in two, much like he nearly did to my Southern hemisphere last night. At least—with his hands still hiding him from sight—he doesn’t have to witness my silent gloating.

“Ollie, are you saying the sight of my naked body makes you lose control?”

“Yes,” he admits with a frustrated grunt. “And I cannot afford to lose control. This is too important. So, you must remain clothed during sexual relations.”

My face is going to be as sore as my lady bits if I don’t stop smiling soon. “How will we have sex if I’m completely clothed? You won’t be able to access the necessary parts.”

He drops his hands to his lap and studies the air. “You make an excellent point. I have seen multiple listings on a number of sites termed crotchless underwear. I will have to purchase several of them for you.”

He’s obviously been on sex toy sites for him to have made the purchases he already did, so I’m not exactly surprised. “Those are a type of lingerie. Have you never seen a woman in lingerie before?”

“I have,” he confesses easily while refusing to glance my way.

I shake off the sting of hurt. “Then, wouldn’t personal experience tell you that the sight of a woman in lingerie also tends to make men