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"I love you," he whispers before spearing his tongue into my mouth. It's a hot, searing kiss. One of his hands roams my bosom and the other squeezes my ass.
"I love you too." I'm breathless from kissing.
His chest rumbles against mine and he leans in to join our lips once again. I'm curled up in his lap, and it only takes a minute before his cock is hard and pressing into my ass again. I writhe against it, suddenly thankful I decided to wear a dress this morning.
"I want you," I mutter against his lips. "Right now."
I feel him smile against me.
"You dirty little slut," he whispers back. "You just sucked every drop of cum out of me, and now you want me to fuck you in the back of the Rolls?"
"It's naughty I know, since we had sex in the bathroom earlier, but I really—"
He silences me with a kiss. "Don't apologize, sweetheart. I love it." He cradles the back of my head. "You're tempting me to keep you pregnant all the time."
"You wouldn't!"
Alexander chuckles. "You underestimate how selfish I can be when it comes to you." He looks out the window for a second. "We're half an hour away from the estate. Do you think that's enough time?"
He's already hiking up my dress around my thighs.
"Barely," I say wistfully as he slides my panties to the side.
"Then we'd better not waste another minute."
That's all the warning I get before he pumps his cock into me. I'm already dripping wet and relish the satisfaction of my body stretching to accommodate him. Alexander groans and the sound sends a shiver along my spine.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders, wishing this moment would never end.
TWENTY-FIVE
ALEXANDER
I'm notsure how long the Rolls has been parked in the underground garage, but when Alize and I finally realise we've made it home, Wesley and Stuart have disappeared.
I help her fix her dress while she redoes the buttons of my shirt. I find her thong tucked between the seats and I stow it in the pocket of my trousers. We both look a ruffled mess, I'm sure—Alize's hair is free from the hair tie she wore to the appointment—but to me, she looks more beautiful than ever.
Flushed cheeks, bruises littering her neck and all.
I have to force myself to look away from her, glancing at the Patek Phillipe on my wrist. Our trip to the city took us longer than I anticipated. It's almost six. Dinner should be served within the hour.
"Are you hungry?" I ask Alize when we're out of the car. I wrap my arm around her waist protectively.
The shift in the air is palpable. This feeling always comes over me whenever I get back to the estate after being away for a few hours. My senses are raised, and I'm on edge about everything. It's even worse now because I have so much more to protect.
For Alize and the baby's sake, I've been doing my best to keep everything as calm as possible. It's crazy how your perspective can change in the blink of an eye. All that matters to me now is protecting our family.
And getting revenge, of course.
I just need to stall out this situation with my father for the rest of our vacation. In fact, I'm not even aboveactinglike I'm acquiescing to his whims if it means I get to put distance between him and Alize.
But the moment we enter the house, I realise that's easier said than done.
It's supposed to be a quiet weekday, but the house is bustling with activity. Alize and I entered through the kitchen—I was hopeful about getting her a bite to eat before the official meal was served—but instead of a handful of chefs preparing a small dinner, there are dozens of people in the kitchen, busy at work.
Ingrid is in the middle of the fray, a washcloth slapped over her shoulder, shouting orders at the staff. It's like we've walked into a war zone. Alize looks up at me with a question in her eyes, but I don't even have the answers.
I weave us through the people running around the kitchen like ants, catching Ingrid’s attention. When her gaze settles on us, she looks miffed, as if I shouldn't be standing in this part of my own home.
