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Alex sighs and closes his eyes, his head leaning back onto the rest and his hand reaching for Beth’s. She takes it gingerly, thank god, and then turns her face to look out the other window. Good girl. Perfect actually. She needs some more of that fire to come back, needs to use it to full effect and stop all this moping around. That’s what he needs.
That and destroying his father.
Chapter 16
Alexander
If he could read her mind, he would. He couldn’t, but she was touching him again. Albeit, at arms length. He looked across at her on the bed, wanting nothing more than to have her draped over him again and all of this anger and bitterness behind them. It wasn’t, and wouldn’t be until he apologised and explained about children. It wasn’t that he didn’t want them,not entirely, it was that he was scared. Scared of hurting it. Scared of not loving it. Scared of being the arsehole he was without remorse or care to the people around him.
Scared of being like his own father.
Lilah knew. She could sense it in him. It’s why she’d asked that question so directly. He hated her for that. Her ability to say it straight without any fear was disconcerting. And his inability to not circumvent her was confusing. He could with these other two. He could cajole and avoid. Show his sharp side and have them bow down, but not with her.
“I love you,” he whispered, wishing Elizabeth was awake to hear it. She wasn’t, and her hair fanned out around her face while she slept only increased his need to wake her, break her. All the tension inside, all the fury and confusion, was still there – waiting for use.
Why did she want children? Why would she need to break this mould they were all in, changing its reasoning? They were all comfortable like this, proved by the fact that Pascal only had to show true concern about something and they all rallied together again. Himself included.
He looked at the door with a sigh, listening to Pascal and Lilah talk. They were so in tune. So wrapped up in each other. She gave him something Alex never could – true love. A love that wasn’t moved by discipline or sadism. It wasn’t born out of pain or anger. It was there through mutual respect and admiration, both of them settled in that feeling and comfortable with who they were. If only he were the same, because Elizabeth was. She was exactly who she was. Beautiful. Loving. Caring. And she knew him inside out. Knew the moods, the outbursts, the pain. She felt it along with him, and that’s why he’d shut her down, to keep her safe from all this in his head. He was the only one missing peace. Fought against it even. And yet, even with these three, he couldn’t find the safety he should have by now.
Pascal.
He smiled and listened to the words lifting the cabin’s usual drone. Smooth, precise. The occasional spat of laughter that made him smile broader and wish they were all in here together. Why couldn’t he give that to them all? Naked skin. Naked thoughts. All of them stripped of everything they had until there was nothing but skin between them. He was simply a cunt, as Lilah would say. A difficult and undisciplined cunt. But that’s the way he had always been, right from the start with Pascal, and that’s the way they worked best. It’s the way Alexander White kept on top of dominance, making Pascal question himself rather than be the arrogant fool he always was.
“I love you, too,” he said again.
Pascal couldn’t hear him, but it didn’t matter. The man knew how he felt, even if he didn't show it in the same way as he did with Elizabeth. It didn’t matter that he’d drugged him, or that he'd been fucked by him. His brow rose, unsure what had actually happened. He wasn't as sore as he would have imagined. Whatever the fuck had happened, the act would be disciplined at some point soon, harshly.
He chuckled to himself and pulled Elizabeth closer to him, not caring if she protested. They would lie here together until they landed, pretend the last few months hadn’t happened. If he could get inside her it would help. Fuck himself back into her good books maybe. And he needed that. He did. He needed to feel her love all over him so that he could send the visions of small cupboards and a father’s amused scowl away again.
He put his arm over her and dragged her closer, lips hovering on the back of her neck.
“You don’t know how to love,” she mumbled, her body tensing a little. It was probably true in respect of their version of the same feeling.
“Remind me,” he whispered, as he increased his hold and pressed himself into her. “Show me.” She huffed and tried to pull away, red hair slicking across the sheets.
“You don’t deserve it.”
He smiled into the back of her, hand halting her hipbone from creating any distance between them. He’d done enough of that lately on his own, and she didn’t want it any more than him. She never did. She needed this. Close and loved, held. Why he’d been such an arse he didn’t understand or care to think about any more. They were together, closer than they’d been in months, and she smelt like all those mornings of hope he’d dreamed of.
“Let me inside again,” he said, pushing her onto her stomach. She groaned as his weight landed, groaned and moved herself to take the smothering she knew so well. “No pain. Just you and me.” Her body tensed, but her hand came back to his head, fingers running through his hair.
“Say it again,” she muttered. His lips curved upwards, both of them dragging up her neck and pushing the hair out of the way.
“I love you.” He did, more than anyone else in the world. All of her. Smile, laughter, the way she moved. “Remind me of us.” She rolled beneath him, eyes latching onto his the moment she could. They were full of unshed tears, the slightest show of anger still laced in them.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. But you can show me that as well.”
Their lips met, soft at first, tentative. It was like it was at the beginning of them all those years ago. Unsure and cautious. But she knew him too well for it to last any longer than seconds. She breathed as his hand bit in tighter than it should. She breathed the pain away and deepened the kiss so she could find her centre and let him guide them. She was right, he didn’t deserve this from her, but he’d take it. He’d take it and fuck the distance between them away until it was clear of doubt again.
Hands and limbs merged, his own holding hers down beneath him where she was safe and protected. That’s all he wanted. And the fact that his cock wasn’t even bothered about damaging her was a show of how much he needed her, needed inside her.
His knee widened her legs, inching them apart slowly to keep this as loving as she wanted it to be. He’d roll here for hours with her if that was the way back in. Take his time and give her everything she needed. Soft caresses. Lightened touches. Anything for that smile back on her face again, the one he’d taken from her. He didn’t even care about coming. He’d come or not, but the sound of her coming was something he couldn’t live without any longer. It breathed something into him, gave him a purpose. Whether it was through pain or pleasure he didn’t care. He just wanted her moans, her approval.
“Slowly,” she said through their lips. Her fingers trailed along his arms, reminding him of the coy glances at first, and the way she seemed so unsure of herself back then. Not anymore. He was hers, and she knew it. She could command anything she wanted with the right buttons pressed, the right words spoken. “Fuck me slowly, Alex.” Her mouth deepened the kiss again, hands moving to his backside to move him in closer. “Show me.”
His cock nudged at her, a frown crossing his brow at the same moment. She’d just lost a baby,theirbaby. He sighed out at the thought, sighed straight into her mouth and hoped she felt the sentiment somehow because he couldn’t express it any other way than this. Didn’t know how to. This was all he had to give her. This and his strength anyway. “Now, Alex. It’s okay.”
