Page 56 of The Mister

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And he was shocked that she thought he might beat her. Her hand goes automatically and instinctively to her cheek; her father is less of a talker, more of a man of action….

She runs her fingers over Maxim’s shoulder and traces the outline of his tattoo. She wants to know him better. Perhaps she should ask him more questions. He is evasive about his job. Maybe he has many? She shakes her head. It is not her place to question him. What would her mother say if she did? For now she will enjoy the little bubble that they share together in Cornwall.

Maxim nuzzles her belly and kisses it, distracting Alessia from her unsettling thoughts of home. He looks up at her, his eyes a vibrant emerald in the soft glow from the little dragon. “Stay with me,” he says.

She smooths his hair off his forehead and frowns. “I am staying with you.”

“Good,” he says, and he kisses her belly again, but his time his mouth moves lower…and lower.

* * *

I open my eyes as early-morning light seeps through the gaps in the blinds. I’m wrapped around Alessia. My head on her chest, my arm around her waist. The warmth and sweet smell of her skin invades my senses, and my body rises to greet her. Gently I nuzzle her neck, leaving drowsy kisses at her throat.

She rouses, her eyelids fluttering open.

“Good morning, princess,” I whisper.

She smiles, a sleepy, sated look on her face. “Good morning…Maxim.” Her tone is tender, and I think I hear her love in the way she says my name. Or maybe I’m imagining it because I want to hear it.

There. I want her love.

All of it.

I’m prepared to admit it to myself.

But can I admit it to her?

The whole day extends before us, open and free—and I’m with her. “Let’s spend the day in bed.” My voice is husky with sleep.

Her fingers skim my chin. “Are you tired?”

I grin. “No…”

“Oh,” she says, and her smile mirrors mine.

* * *

His tongue. His mouth. What he does to her. Alessia is lost in a storm of sensation. Her hands tighten on his wrists as she hangs on a precipice. She’s close. So close. He teases her again and again with his able tongue and gradually eases a finger inside her, and she falls, her orgasm ripping through her as she cries out.

Maxim kisses her belly, her breasts, as he inches up her body and stills above her.

“That is a fantastic sound,” he whispers, and he rolls on a condom and oh, so slowly sinks into her.

* * *

When I return from the bathroom, her side of the bed is empty.

Oh.

The disappointment is real. I’m ready for more. I don’t ever think I’ll have enough of Alessia.

Judging by the gray light seeping into the room, it must be midmorning. And it’s raining. I raise the blinds, and then I hear her, so I scramble back into bed. Crockery rattling, she enters the bedroom. She’s wearing my pajama top and carrying breakfast on a tray. “Good morning again,” she says with a radiant smile, her hair flowing down over her shoulders.

“Well, hello, coffee!” The aroma is mouthwatering. I love proper coffee. I sit up, and she places the tray on my lap. Eggs. Coffee. Toast. “This is a treat.”

“You said you wanted to stay in bed.” She climbs in beside me and steals a piece of buttered toast.

“Here.” I scoop up some scrambled eggs on a fork and offer it to her. She opens her mouth, and I feed her.

“Mmm…” she says, and closes her eyes in appreciation.

My dick rouses at the sight.

Steady. Let’s eat first.

The eggs are amazing. She’s added feta cheese, I think.

“This is heaven on a plate, Alessia!”

Her cheeks pink, and she takes a sip of coffee.

“I wanted to play some music.”

“On the piano?”

“No—I mean, to listen.”

“Oh. You need a phone. Here.” I reach over and grab my iPhone.

I really must get her a phone.

“This is the code.” I punch in my security code to unlock it. “And I use this app. Sonos. You can have music anywhere in the house.” I hand it to her.

She starts flicking through the app. “You have so much music.”

“I like music.”

She shoots me a quick smile. “Me, too.”

I take a sip of coffee.

Ugh!

“How much sugar did you put in this?” I splutter.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forget you don’t have the sugar.” And she screws up her face, and I think it’s because she cannot contemplate coffee without sugar.

“Is this how you drink it?”

“In Albania? Yes.”

“I’m amazed you have any teeth left.”

She grins, showing me she has perfect teeth. “I have never tried coffee without sugar. I will make you some more.” She hops out of bed, all long naked legs and flowing raven hair.

“It’s okay. Don’t go.”

“I want to.” And she disappears once more, taking my phone with her. A few moments later, I hear Dua Lipa singing “One Kiss” over the sound system downstairs. Alessia doesn’t just like classical music. I smile….I think the artist is Albanian, too.

* * *

Alessia dances around the kitchen, preparing another coffee for Maxim. She cannot remember a time when she felt this content. She came close at times when she was dancing and singing with her mother in the kitchen in Kukës. But here there is more room to dance, and with the lights on she can see her image reflected in the glass wall that leads to the balcony. She grins; she looks so happy. It’s such a contrast to when she arrived in Cornwall.

Outside, it’s a cold and wet morning. She shimmies over to the window and stares out at the scene. The sky and sea are a dismal gray, and the wind is battering and sculpting the silvery trees that line the path to the beach, but it’s still a sight she finds magical. The surf is crashing on the shore, white-whipped and foamy, yet she can only hear the faint roar of the waves and cannot feel a draft through the glass doors. She’s impressed. The house is well built, and she’s grateful that she’s here, warm and cozy with Maxim.

&n

bsp; The espresso machine burbles, and she sashays back across the room to make his coffee.

* * *

Maxim is still in bed, but he’s finished his breakfast and placed the tray on the floor. “There you are. I missed you,” he says when Alessia returns with fresh, unsweetened coffee. She hands him the cup, and he drains the entire contents as she gets back into bed.

“That’s better,” he says.

“You like it?”

“Very much.” He puts the coffee cup aside. “But I like you more.” He hooks his index finger over the first button of the oversize pj top that she’s wearing and tugs. The button opens, revealing the soft swell of her breast, and with his eyes burning into hers he runs his finger gently over her skin and across her nipple. Her breath catches as her nipple peaks and hardens beneath his touch.

* * *

Her lips part in a silent gasp, and her gaze is intense and inviting. My dick stirs.

“Again?” I whisper.

Will I ever have my fill of this woman?

Alessia’s coy smile is encouragement enough. Leaning forward, I press my lips against hers and undo the rest of her buttons, and slip the pajama shirt off her shoulders. “You’re so beautiful.” My words are an invocation.

Her eyes on mine, she raises her hand hesitantly, and her finger traces the line of my jaw, brushing my stubble. Through her parted lips, I watch as she runs her tongue across the underside of her top teeth. “Hmm…” Her voice rumbles in her throat.

“You like it, or do you want me to shave?” I whisper.

She shakes her head. “I like this.” Her fingertips stroke my chin.

“You do?”

She nods and, leaning in, plants a soft kiss at the corner of my mouth and runs her tongue over my stubble, following the line her finger took earlier. I feel it in my groin.

“Oh, Alessia.” I grasp her face and lower us both onto the bed, kissing her as we recline. My lips are on hers, my tongue is on hers, and she’s as greedy as ever, taking all I have to give. My hand travels down her body, over her breast, her waist, and her hip, and I cup her backside and squeeze. My lips follow, worshipping her breasts in turn until she’s squirming beneath me. And when I gaze at her to catch my breath, she’s panting.


Tags: E.L. James Romance