Fated To Not Just One, But Three Chapter 339: Your Desire

Olivia’s POV

The word struck harder than I thought it would, and for a mont, I froze. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t playing. His denial was firm and final.

"You’re not in a good mood, Olivia," he continued, his eyes holding mine with a quiet authority that sent a shiver through . "You’re angry. You’re unsettled. And I will not touch you like this, not when your emotions are this raw."

My throat tightened, my body trembling, but not from rejection. His refusal wasn’t a dismissal—it was control. Restraint. And sohow, that only made ache more.

"That’s exactly why I need this," I pushed back, my voice breaking on the edge of desperation. I stepped closer, my fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt, clinging as though I could anchor myself to him. "Louis... I need you to take this from . The jealousy. The fire. I can’t breathe with it sitting inside ."

His nostrils flared, his composure faltering for a second, just a crack that revealed the storm behind his eyes. His hand ca up, cupping my jaw with careful strength, forcing to et him head-on.

"You don’t know what you’re asking," he murmured, but his voice had roughened, heavy with restraint, with desire barely leashed.

"I do," I whispered back, my body pressing closer, my nipples brushing against the firmness of his chest, sending another pulse of heat between my thighs. "I know exactly what I’m asking. And I trust you to give it to ."

"You’re not a sub, Olivia," he said firmly, his voice low but edged with certainty. His thumb brushed over my jaw, holding steady as though daring to argue. "And I will never force you into sothing that you are not into. You’re my mate—that is more than enough."

His words should have cald , but they only made my chest tighten more. My voice ca out rough, almost pleading. "Maybe I’m not a sub... but I can learn. Teach , Louis. If this is what you like, if this is what you crave, then I want to know it. I want to be the one who satisfies your needs."

For a mont, sothing flickered in his eyes—surprise, conflict, desire. His grip on my face softened as though my words had cut through the walls he’d built around himself.

"My needs don’t co first, Olivia," he said, his voice softer now, but laced with an intensity that made my stomach flutter. "Yours do. Always. I’ll never let anything—anything—co before that."

I shook my head, my hands sliding up his chest, clutching tightly at his shirt as I pressed closer, feeling his hardness straining against . "But satisfying you is my need," I whispered fiercely, my lips trembling with the truth of it. "If this is part of you, Louis, then it’s part of us. And I want all of you."

The air thickened, the weight of my words pressing down on us. His jaw clenched, his eyes searching mine, and for a long heartbeat, he said nothing. Then he exhaled, a rough, low sound that made my pulse race.

"Fine," he said at last, his voice gravelly but calm, commanding. His hand slid from my jaw to the back of my neck, holding firmly but gently. "If we do this, we do it my way. You’ll give your trust completely, and in return, I’ll protect you through it. Always."

His thumb stroked once along my throat, careful but purposeful, before his gaze deepened, demanding. "But first, Olivia... you’ll tell your safe word."

I swallowed hard. Of course I knew what a safe word is. "Red," I whispered.

Louis gave a single nod and stepped back. His eyes darkened, and my knees nearly buckled beneath . "Undress."

My body reacted before my mind could catch up, my pulse skittering wildly, my knees trembling as though they no longer belonged to . His voice had changed; it wasn’t soft anymore, wasn’t coaxing. It was deep, commanding, threaded with authority that wrapped itself around and made my wolf shiver with recognition.

My breath caught. For a mont, I just stared at him, frozen. The way his darkened eyes followed every flicker of hesitation, the way he stood so still yet felt like he was filling the entire room—it was overwhelming.

I swallowed hard, my fingers moving almost of their own accord to the hem of my blouse. Slowly, deliberately, I tugged it upward, the fabric sliding over my skin. My breath trembled as cool air hit the bare flesh beneath, and Louis’s gaze didn’t waver away from , not once.

By the ti the blouse fell to the floor, my chest was rising and falling too fast, my hardened nipples straining against the lace of my bra. I felt exposed, turned on, but the way he looked at made burn hotter, wetter, until I almost squird under his stare.

"Keep going," he said, his voice low, steady, as though he had all the ti in the world.

I fumbled with the button of my jeans, my fingers clumsy from the rush of nerves and arousal tangling inside . When the zipper slid down, the faint rasp of it filled the silence between us, and I pushed the denim down my legs. My panties clung to my dampness, and sha mixed with heat as I kicked the jeans aside.

Now, standing there in nothing but lace and trembling breath, I felt stripped in more ways than one.

Louis’s gaze dragged over , unhurried, deliberate, as though morizing every curve, every flush of my skin. His jaw flexed, but he didn’t move closer. Instead, he let the silence stretch until it coiled around , until my nerves were humming like a live wire.

"Good," he said finally, the word low, almost a growl. His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing with that calm dominance that made ache. "It’s your first. So we will take things slow."

My throat bobbed as I swallowed, my voice a shaky whisper. "Okay."

"Say it properly," he demanded softly, though his tone carried weight enough to make my body tighten.

"Okay, Master," I breathed, my lips trembling, heat flooding through .

Louis’s eyes burned into mine, and for a fleeting second, I glimpsed the storm he had chained inside him—wild, consuming, but restrained for . His hand lifted, brushing his knuckles tenderly along my cheek as I pulled in a shaky breath.

"Good girl," he murmured, and the words seared through like fire, leaving my legs weak and my body desperate for more.