Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
It triggered the opposite reaction.
His eyes lit with a twisted delight. He kissed me roughly and then pulled back with an animalistic growl. “You are perfection.”
I could feel the pressure mounting inside me, along with shame and a sick thrill that slithered into my brain at the sound I pulled from him.
This was normal—my body was reacting naturally. It had nothing to do with me. I’d keep telling myself this until I wholeheartedly believed it.
“What are you thinking about while my dick is inside you, deliciae?”
“Home,” I managed to spit at him, knowing it was the wrong thing to say.
He started to laugh, and to my surprise lifted me up. “You and I are going to have so much fun together.” He turned us completely, our new position placing him behind me and my body over the stone ledge of the bathtub.
No longer fully submerged, the chilled air had gooseflesh traveling over my skin. He spread my legs with a knee and gripped one of my slippery hips, plunging back inside me before I could fully comprehend what was happening.
It stole my breath away.
This new position and without the water made every sensation more severe. He was so big I spread my legs wider in an attempt to lessen how full I felt, crying out in pain as he grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head back, forcing me to arch and look up at him as he rode my body.
“When I’m fucking you—you’re fucking me—the only time you should be able to speak is when you’re begging for more or screaming my name.”
“Please,” I rasped, tears burning in my eyes as his cock pounded into me.
“Yes. Fuck, Lo. Just like that,” he praised, hitting an angle that had the pressure in my core building at a terrifying intensity.
Small waves of pleasure began rolling through me, my pussy tightening around him. His wet skin slapped against mine, creating a rhythmic sound that was nearly drowned out by moans he was eliciting.
When the final wave of pleasure rolled through my body, a cacophony of screams escaped me as I came.
He continued thrusting, his tempo never waning as I became immersed in heated bliss. His hand still in my hair, he slowly began wrapping it around his fist.
“Now,” he commanded darkly, his voice low as he drove into me. “Say my name.”
I tried to give him what he wanted but couldn’t reply, too overwhelmed, warring with my body and mind. His other hand slid from my hip to between my legs, his fingers gently stroking my clit. I whimpered as a smaller wave of pleasure washed over me, another building right behind it.
“Alex,” finally spilled from my lips as I was forced to endure another orgasm.
“Good girl,” he soughed, allowing himself to come with measured thrusts and a guttural groan now that he had what he wanted.
I trembled beneath him, my breaths ragged and choppy. Instead of pulling out right away, he wrapped both arms around my body and pulled me away from the ledge of the tub, holding my back to his chest as he kissed my shoulder and then my neck.
When he finally withdrew and carried me to the shower and began to rinse me with the same tenderness he’d used after wiping the tears from my cheeks, I made the mistake of looking in his eyes.
In them I saw a glimmer of something darker than I could have fathomed—a twisted kind of fondness that made my heart race for reasons I couldn't fully comprehend.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
He guided me towards the closet that I had caught a glimpse of while submerged in the bath. His grip on me was a paradox, soft yet somehow claiming ownership. I silently questioned whether he noticed the subtle quivers racing through me, the way my body yearned to recoil from his touch.
Yet, I remained still, instinctively understanding that any show of resistance would only deepen my predicament. With a conscious effort, I steadied my breathing. I didn’t want him to know how badly he affected me.
We entered a space that looked like it was ripped right out of an interior designer’s dream. It was the biggest closet I had ever seen, a perfect pairing of gothic grandeur and modern luxury. The two stories were connected by a winding iron staircase that granted access to an upper level. My eyes were immediately drawn to the skylight that adorned the ceiling and cast a golden glow over the clothing.
Alexander's clothes took up the entire right side. Suits, button-down shirts, and a few casual options were neatly arranged by color and purpose, an ode to his meticulous nature.
“All of this is yours,” he explained with a roundabout gesture to the other half.
I took in the clothing with a sinking feeling. Every garment felt like a reflection a different version of me would happily wear, a mix of modernity and a nod to the past.