Julian's mouth then moved with the same care he had used on her neck, pressing warm kisses across the soft flesh. He shifted to the other breast and repeated the attention, mapping the full shape of her with his lips while his hands continued to hold and lift her.
Then he closed his mouth more firmly and began to leave marks.
The first hickey formed slowly on the inner slope of her left breast. Olivia's fingers dug into his shoulders. The pull of his mouth was gentle yet insistent, drawing blood to the surface until a darkening bruise began to appear on her pale skin. The sensation shot through her in a confusing wave of discomfort and heat. She bit down on her lower lip, but soft, broken sounds still escaped each time he lingered.
This is my son.
The thought arrived with stark clarity.
