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ALICIA
Idon’t know what this means. Is he accepting me? I want to believe it. Why else would he kiss me?
He isn’t just kissing me, either. To call this kissing would be like calling Mona Lisa a painting—true, sure, but it hardly scratches the surface. No, he’s caressing my mouth with his, pouring himself into me, waking me up with every stroke his tongue makes against mine. He’s kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, like I didn’t know was possible. My knees are weak, and my heart feels fluttery, and I hope he never stops.
I wind my arms around his neck and hold on tight to keep myself on my feet. His dick is already hard, and it presses against my hip and sends jolts of pleasure through me. He doesn’t need to be threatening or hurting me. It’s not only my reaction that gets him off. I’m enough.
Right now, it’s enough for him to run his hands over my back, my ass, my thighs. He slides them up again and works them under my T-shirt. Every touch makes me hungrier for more, leaving me moaning into his mouth so he’ll know how much I love this, need it, and how good it feels. He lifts the shirt, and I raise my arms so he can pull it off.
Once it’s gone, he wraps an arm around my waist to pull me closer while his other hand cups my breasts, moving back and forth. My head falls back, and he licks the length of my throat before tracing his path back down to my collarbone—then farther south, over my chest. I arch my back, offering myself to him. I need more. I need him all over me.
He sits me on the bed and strips off his jacket before lowering himself to his knees. I pull off his tie and unbutton his shirt, kissing him and pulling him in with my legs. My hands touch bare skin, and my hunger deepens while I open his shirt, sliding it over his shoulders and down his arms. He groans when my nails move over his back and across his shoulders, so I do it again, both for him and for me, since his reactions double what I’m already feeling.
And what I’m feeling is heat. Growing, burning, raging heat that’s got my pussy throbbing—but not as strong as my heart, thudding against my ribs. Not only because it feels incredible when he cups my breasts and lifts them to suck like he’s starving, and I’m the only thing keeping him alive.
Because it’s like it was before the wedding. When I started feeling something could be growing between us. Like he wanted me as more than a pawn. That feeling is back, and I didn’t know until now how much I missed it. How much I need it. How much better it makes every kiss, touch, every flick of his tongue over my nipples. He wants to give me pleasure as he takes pleasure in me, not just take what he wants and get me off at the same time. That’s everything.
And it makes me lift his head until our mouths align again. I can’t kiss him hard enough. I can’t hold him tight enough.
He lowers me onto the bed and follows me until we’re side-by-side, facing each other. He tugs down my leggings and thong—a little clumsy, in a hurry, and I help him.
But for once, I roll him onto his back and straddle him instead of lying back and letting him take the lead. His eyes widen, but his hands continue to tour my naked body. “This is different,” he whispers with a grin.
Everything’s different. I’m different. I reach down between us and undo his belt, his waistband, and his zipper. Concentrating on the task at hand is difficult once he works his fingers between my lips. My pussy clenches when two thick digits enter me, sliding in deep.
“Oh… God.” I close my eyes for an instant and let my attention dwindle to that single spot, to the thrusting of his fingers, before he focuses on my G-spot, pressing and massaging. I rock my hips, lost in him and the sensations he’s setting off. The building heat. The delicious tension.
“I could watch you like this all day.” He fondles my breasts with his other hand, rolling his thumb around my nipples before flicking and twisting them and driving me insane. His dark, knowing laughter blends with my moans. “Fucking gorgeous. So hot. Let me see you come, baby.”
I was already close, but his words push me the rest of the way over the edge all at once. Suddenly, my insides are quaking, and the most mind-blowing waves of pleasure roll through me, but he won’t stop fucking me with his fingers, rubbing my clit with his thumb, coaxing another orgasm from me. Greedy for the sight and sound of me, and I don’t know if I’m coming again or if the first one never ended, but my back arches, and a cry of sheer relief fills the room when bliss explodes again deep in my core.
I fall forward with palms on his shoulders, gasping for breath, dazed. “So wet,” he groans as he pulls himself from his shorts. “You soaked into my pants. Should’ve had you sit on my face so I wouldn’t miss any.” The thought alone makes me moan, and he chuckles against my neck.
“Are you ready to ride my cock?” He drags his head through my wetness, and I shiver as much with anticipation as from the pressure against my sensitive, quivering entrance. The promise of more, more, that’s all my body wants. It’s all I want. More of this. More of him. The magic of it. The way I feel fully alive and connected.
He plunges inside me and lifts his hips to fill me, sinking in deep. I bear down on him, grinding my hips, and we both moan when I reach his base. “That’s right.” He takes me by my hips. “Ride it. Fuck yourself on me. Let me feel you come.”
I don’t think I could do anything else if I wanted to. I’m helpless against him, helpless against this. With my palms on his chest, I raise myself, using him as leverage. “So nice,” I whimper, grinding hard, searching for release again.
“That’s right. Take me deep. Take what you need. Soak my cock.” He’s watching me, staring up at me as I work myself into a frenzy. I close my eyes—his grip on my hips tightens instantly, and forcefulness leaks into his voice. “No. Don’t hide from me.”
I can’t help but obey. I never can. I watch him watching me ride, and now I’m not embarrassed. I’m not shy. I roll my hips and laugh at the way he groans. The power shift is hot, too. Everything about this, him, us together.
And he wants this. He wants me. He could’ve shut me down and told me he didn’t want anything to do with me. He could’ve reminded me of the deal we made and how us being together was not part of that deal.
Instead, he kissed me. I’m moving with him inside me, working my way to another orgasm while he urges me on. He swells inside me, and his hips start to jerk like he can’t help himself, and I’m going to come again. I feel it; it’s happening—
“Yes!” It’s a strained whisper when what I want to do is scream. I fall forward and sink my teeth into his shoulder and sob out pleasure almost too intense to handle.
His fingers dig in tighter than ever, and he groans in my ear; an instant later, a rush of warmth signals him coming. “Alicia… my God…” His arms wind around my back, and that’s the best part, the way he holds me to him like I matter. He doesn’t want this to end any more than I do. I wish I had been honest with him sooner.
Then again, no. Maybe it had to be this way. We had to go through what we’ve faced together to make this so sweet. No, it’s not a declaration of love, but it’s a start. It’s better than living as strangers and pretending neither of us cares or wants anything better.
I’m still coming down when he gently slides out of me, then coaxes me into climbing off him. Instead of getting up and dressing, he finally gets rid of his pants and boxers, then slides between the sheets and gestures for me to join him. This is new, too. I’m almost afraid I’m going to wake up from this dream.
But by the time I’m in bed with him, his arms around me, and my head on his chest, the spell hasn’t broken. I guess this must be real.
He laughs softly with his lips against the top of my head. “I should let you do the work more often. Especially when I haven’t slept in days.”
