Chapter 551

“Nathan, it’s late. Go to bed,” Elvis said.

“I know, Dad. Good night, Miss Fairy,” little Nathan replied, closing his eyes and quickly falling asleep. Olive glanced at his sleeping face. A deep voice rumbled above her, “Is Nathan asleep?”

Elvis, still in his work clothes from the sofa, entered the room. Her eyelids fluttered. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Let Nathan sleep inside,” he murmured. Olive's heart skipped a beat. His intentions were clear; he wanted to sleep with her.

“No,” she refused.

The side of the bed lowered. He turned, using his large hand to support her, pulling her under his body. He leaned down, kissing her soft hair before whispering into her earlobe, “You want to mess up again, don’t you?”

Olive pressed against his chest, trying to push him away. “My son’s here, don’t mess around,” she whispered. The silk fabric of her nightgown still held the scent of her recent bath; droplets of water clung to her rosy neck and delicate face. Elvis’s eyes darkened. He kissed her lips. “If you are obedient, my son won’t wake up.”

Olive’s fingers tightened on his nightgown, passively enduring his kiss. The room was silent, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension. She tilted her head, burying her face in the pillow.

Elvis frowned slightly. She looked exquisitely beautiful, almost seductively so. “Shall we go to the bathroom?” he asked hoarsely. It wasn't a question, however. Before she could answer, he lifted her.

In the bathroom, he seated her on the sink. Olive produced a small white pill.

“What is this?” Elvis asked, frowning.

Olive looked up. “Birth control pill.”

Elvis’s thin lips pursed in displeasure. “Elvis, this birth control pill is good for both of us. Do you want me to give you… a baby?” she asked.

“Of course not. Being able to recognize your identity is the best,” he replied.

Olive swallowed the pill without hesitation. Elvis saw her resolve; she didn't want more children, certainly not with him.

He pursed his lips. “Nathan really wants a sister, and having another daughter is also in my plans,” he said softly.

Olive was stunned. This was the first time he’d expressed a desire for a daughter. He already had a daughter, Ivy, a petite beauty much like her, with a gentle, endearing personality.

It was said a daughter was her father's little lover in a past life, and Ivy had adored her father since childhood. Olive wondered if Elvis, a man of strong, cold temperament, would become a slave to his daughter’s charm.

Lost in thought, Elvis squeezed her face. “Of course you don’t deserve to give birth to a daughter for me. Later, I will let other women give birth to my daughters, and Nathan will also call other women ‘Mom’,” he said.

Pain stabbed at Olive. She considered the implications; remarriage, a new mother for Nathan. “Elvis, Nathan is my son. Can you… give him to me?” she asked boldly.

“What did you say?”

“I said, give Nathan back to me. Anyway, you will remarry later. You are only 32 years old; you can have as many women as you want to have children for you. They will give you a football team—Ah!”

Before she finished, Elvis bit her lip, drawing blood. His hoarse, menacing voice rasped, “Olive, do you really want to piss me off?”

Olive didn’t know what she’d done wrong, but she sensed his simmering anger. She decided to change tactics. She raised her hands to his neck, initiating a kiss.

Elvis, initially furious, had only intended to provoke her jealousy by mentioning other women. He didn’t want other women to bear his children. He could have had countless children in the past three years if he’d wanted. He wanted her to give him a daughter, a daughter who looked exactly like her. But she was not only jealous, but also possessive of Nathan, determined to push him away. Hostility simmered in his chest, but her unexpected kiss softened him. Her kiss was inexperienced, soft as feathers, brushing against his cold heart. He was a beast on the verge of attack, and she was stroking his fur.

After a while, she realized he wasn’t responding. It was a one-sided performance. She opened her eyes to see him watching her condescendingly. Embarrassed, she pulled away. “It’s fine not to kiss,” she mumbled.

His hand tightened around her waist. “Olive, three years no see, have you grown to this extent?”

“Elvis, if you talk like that again, I’ll bite you,” she retorted, biting his chest.

His throat bobbed. He pushed her against the wall, leaning down to kiss her. His eyes remained open, watching as her cheeks flushed, her eyelids fluttered, her clear eyes filled with bewilderment, her body softening under his touch. Usually stiff as a rock, she was now pliable. He closed his eyes, possessing her forcefully.