His mouth is on mine once more. His kiss is hard and desperate, like he’s trying to taste my soul. Our tongues dance and duel while our lips claim unapologetically. His breathing is rapid and labored as he pulls back. “Take off your pants. Do it now.”
I obey and pull my pants off, kicking them to the side. He takes the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head as he forces me to move backward. I gasp when I feel the cold wall against my back, and Alexius drops to his knees in front of me, his hand guiding my leg over his shoulder, his lips tracing up my inner thigh.
I’m all sensation, and my instinct is to close my eyes and lean my head back, but instead, I thread my fingers through his soft hair, slanting my head so I can look at him and relish the sight of such a powerful man on his knees for me.
I brace myself by gripping his hair tighter, his lips brushing against my smooth sex. My legs start to shake, my core tight and slick, and I moan out loud when he snakes his tongue into my pussy, licking a long, leisurely stroke through my slit, then flattening his tongue deep in my cleft.
“Alexius,” I whimper.
“Shh.” The vibrations of his lips ripple to my core. “Keep quiet.”
I suck my bottom lip, watching him roll his tongue as he eats me out. He clamps his lips around my clit and sucks hard, causing me to swallow a moan. It’s intense, almost too much, and I have to lean my head against the wall, closing my eyes as I arch my back. I push his head closer, burying his face deeper into my cunt. There’s a low growl that reverberates from his throat, causes my core to quiver, and I’m so close—so fucking close, and I feel it starting in my toes, my muscles tense and tight, desperate for release.
I buck my hips against his face, and he slips a finger inside me. “Oh, my God,” I whisper breathlessly, rocking myself into his mouth.
“That’s right.” He dips his tongue where his finger enters me and drags up before flicking it against my clit. “Fuck my face, stray.”
“Jesus.” I look down at him and try to spread my legs wider, thrusting my hips downward and rocking my wet pussy onto his face. He moans against my sensitive flesh, his finger pumping faster as I grind into him, my clit throbbing.
“Alexius, I need your cock.”
“I want you to come on my tongue.”
“And I need you to fuck me.”
Abruptly, he grips my thighs with his fingers biting into my flesh, pulling me down harder onto his face. He sucks my clit hard, and I can’t stop it. I cry out, my body convulsing with pleasure, and I claw at his hair, pulling and pushing, fucking his face and riding out the orgasm that leaves my body and mind in fragments of ecstasy.
His tongue doesn’t stop, his finger pumping my pussy, milking every last drop of my orgasm. Finally, my muscles relax, and if it weren’t for his arms wrapping around my waist, I’d collapse because I have no strength left in me.
Alexius stands, his lips glistening with my cum. “Please fuck me,” I whisper, even though I can barely stand. “I need to feel you inside me again.”
He places both hands on the sides of my neck, easing down my naked shoulders, leaning his forehead against mine. “Not today, stray. Not today.”
Before I can say anything, he pushes away and walks straight out the door without looking back.
ChapterFourteen
ALEXIUS
It’s good to be home. Hotels are the worst. I could have stayed at Myth’s penthouse suite, but after what happened with Leandra and Isaia, a sex club was the last place I wanted to be. Being away from her, unable to touch her, kiss her, slide my cock inside her welcoming cunt is torture enough without being surrounded by kinky fuckery. But I suppose for a glass-is-half-full kind of person it worked out well, since me not being here kept Rome from frequenting the estate, which meant it kept Leandra out of his sights. He knows the best way to fuck with me is through her, even if it’s just for shits and giggles.
God. I’ve become so fucking transparent since falling for my wife—and in my line of business, that’s not a good thing.
I’ve never been so much in my own head before, having my emotions control me. Damn Isaia. Little shit. I’m probably going to hell for not feeling remorse about kicking his ass. And God knows, I don’t regret fucking my wife in front of him, either. I wanted him to see it, how Leandra’s body bends to my will and only mine. How I slam into her pussy, my cock the only dick she’s ever had inside her, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.
This stupid fucking game between us started the night she watched Isaia fuck—the night I found her in the bathtub playing with her pussy, soapsuds clinging to her wet skin, her hard nipples teasing into view as the water rippled around her. I was instantly hard when I saw her, my balls tight and blood rushing to my dick. I couldn’t stop myself from toying with her that night, watching her carry herself to orgasm, then squirting jizz on her cheek. That was the night everything started, and my obsession with her ever since has grown into something that now consumes me.
I’ve seen the way he looks at her. I’ve seen the desire in his eyes. The lust. My brothers and I loved to share, and it fucked with his head when I didn’t want to share her.
Once was enough, and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I did it for her—to help her defeat her demons and realize that her desires aren’t the same as the perversions of her parents. I saw something in her that night in the tub. I saw a temptress waiting to be unleashed—a siren who needed to be set free so she could wreak havoc around her. Around me. And by God, I fucking love her chaos just like she loves my madness. It’s that same madness that detonated when I walked into that room to find my brother next to my wife, holding her in his arms, and she looked so peaceful, so at ease…and it turned my vision red. I saw blood and carnage, and I wanted to slam my fist through my brother’s chest and tear his heart out. The jealousy was a bitter, vile taste on my tongue that day. It wreaked havoc in me and tore away at my humanity until there was nothing left but a monster who craved blood.
I wanted to kill him. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone as much as I did my own brother. Like I needed another reason to go to hell.
The leather of my chair creaks as I lean back, staring at the blank wall of my office, trying to sort through my thoughts like thousands of unpacked boxes.
I left because I wanted to give her space, and I needed some reprieve from the fucking guilt that was only pissing me off. I’m a Del Rossa. We don’t feel guilt. We don’t feel remorse. We rule, we dominate, we take. We don’t fucking mope around like lost boys…which is exactly what I did in that goddamn hotel room—getting drunk and acting like a brooding teenager.
I wasn’t planning on coming back today—probably not anytime soon, either—but when the doctor called confirming the appointment, I knew I had to be here. I missed the first ultrasound because my wife was too scared to tell me. There was no chance in hell I’d miss this one too, so I came. And when she walked into that room, and I laid eyes on her, I swear to God my heart fucking stopped. She’s more beautiful than the image of her that remained in my head the entire time I was gone. Her belly has grown, her breasts round and fuller, her body shaping and adapting as my babies grow inside her. It’s the most amazing thing—and apparently, my dick loves it too, because her pregnant body had my cock aching like a motherfucker. It still does, and my balls hate me, too.