“Come for me, little bird.” He growls. “I want to feel you come all over my cock.”
He pushes in so hard I feel my bones rattle and then I’m coming. No I’m flying. My whole body pulls tight and then… it releases.
My scream bounces back at me, my heart feels as if it’s pounding straight through the wall of my chest, battering against my ribcage almost painfully but the climax continues to cause chaos through my body. My muscles spasm, my walls clench and my toes curls.
Lex grunts and roars behind me, his thrusts becoming spontaneous but no less hard as he releases inside me. I feel him fill me up, my walls drawing every last drop from him.
His hand gently releases my hair and I drop my head forward, stretching out the taut muscles in the back of my neck. He’s still holding my hips, his cock still buried deep inside me as he leans over me and presses the most tender of kisses to my spine, a complete contrast to the ruin he just caused.
Softly, he bands an arm around my waist and raises me to a standing position, his shaft slipping from my body as he presses my back to his chest. He reaches down and lifts a sponge and some soap, pouring the creamy liquid onto the surface and then sliding it over my pale skin. The soap is cold against my heated flesh but it feels so good. Goosebumps chase of my skin as he lathers it over my body, over the mounds of my breasts, across the tight line of my stomach. He moves my hair out of the way to get to my collar bones and throat, working the sponge over my sensitive flesh.
I don’t stop him when he spins me and drops to a crouch, running the sponge over my thighs and then dips it between my legs. I jump when he presses the softness to my centre, washing away the evidence of him on my skin.
He tends to me like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him. Like I am a rare gem and should he take his eye off me for just a moment, I’ll disappear.
The same hands that have killed, tortured, maimed are the ones working through my hair. He tips my head beneath the spray, wetting it further. He then squirts shampoo into the tresses.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Loving you,” he answers easily, his fingers working through the strands to bring it to a lather.
My eyes roll to the back of my head with each press of his fingers to my scalp.
I let himloveme.
I let the nightmare that is Alexander Silver care for me.