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“And so fuckin’ tight,” he growls.
Slowly, languidly, he begins pumping his fingers in and out of me. I inhale at every thrust. I’m so wet that I’m dripping down his hand.
“You’ve never done this before, have you, angel?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Never.”
“Good. I want all of this to be mine, and mine alone.”
The implication that he’s going to do more to me than this makes me whimper with need. I rock my hips against his hand, and he grunts into my ear, his cock prodding hard against my back.
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whimper.
Alden hums low in his chest, then sucks a hard kiss onto my neck, pushing his fingers deep inside me. I can barely conjure words with my mind so blurry with pleasure. I have nothing else to compare it to, yet somehow I understand that this is what pure passion feels like. Somehow I know that he’s kissing me and touching me the same way that he paints. He’s so deep in it. So intense with it. He’s creating this pleasure within me, in total control.
I manage a gasp as Alden pulls his fingers out of me, spins me around, and pins me up against the wall. He pushes up the hem of my skirt, bunching the fabric up over my hips, then yanks down my panties with such force that I hear some of the threads rip.
“Need to taste you,” he murmurs, and before I can say a word, he’s down on his knees in front of me. I swallow, self-consciousness suddenly punching through my haze. Reflexively, I suck my stomach in and press my thighs together, even though I know it barely makes a difference. There’s no hiding the fact that I weigh much more than I should.
“Relax, angel.”
I try, but it’s no use. “Alden, I—”
“You’re perfect, honey.” He smooths his hands up my big thighs, caressing and warming my skin. “You’re so fucking sexy, I can barely stand it.”
His words ease a little of the worry inside of me. I stop sucking in my stomach, even though I hate the way it sticks out, and I stop clenching my thighs so tightly together, relaxing into Alden’s hands.
“Good girl,” he says, stroking the side of my thighs. “Now show me that gorgeous cunt.”
I relax further, letting my thighs unstick, my heart racing as I show him what he wants. Alden groans, muttering something I can’t make out, and then jerks my hips forward, bringing my pussy to his mouth. I cry out as his tongue flattens against my clit, the long, hungry lick he gives me making me tremble against him. He moans as he licks me again, making a sound like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted in his life.
“Oh god,” I squeak out, dropping my head back against the wall.
Alden wraps his lips around my clit and sucks, one hand holding me in place while his other hand moves between my legs. Then his big fingers are inside me again, relentlessly pumping in and out.
The slick sound is obscene. I can barely think, barely breathe, barely exist. How pleasure like this is even possible, I don’t know. The sensation is electric, running from the top of my head all the way down to my toes.
“Alden,” I sob, shaking in his grasp. He tightens his grip on me, holding me in place as he sucks my clit harder and fucks me faster with his fingers, the sloppy sound growing louder in my ears. I don’t want this to ever end but I also can’t take it any longer. Crying out, I buck against him, my pussy contracting around his fingers as I come. I’m still coming as I gasp for air, my clit pulsing between his lips, the last of my strength giving way. Alden’s name spills from me as I fall, and he catches me, capturing me in the safety of his arms.
I’m loopy and exhausted from the sheer strength of my orgasm, barely aware of my surroundings as Alden carries me downstairs to his bed.
4
ALDEN
In my arms, Sasha is even more beautiful than I thought possible, the glow on her full cheeks making me wonder if she’ll glow like this all the time when she’s pregnant with our child.
I know, I know. Fuck. I shouldn’t be thinking like that so soon. I shouldn’t even fantasize about it.
But there’s no avoiding it now.
Sasha stirs in my arms, struggling to fight off the exhaustion I’ve caused her. Pressing a hand to my chest, she strokes my heated skin and murmurs, “Don’t let me fall asleep.”
“You need rest,” I mutter, lowering her into the middle of my king-sized bed. I take her cardigan off, then tug a sheet over her and smooth away the stray strands sticking to her forehead.
“Don’t go,” she whispers, her eyelids drooping again.
