18. Delilah
CHAPTER 18
Delilah
T hat night I couldn’t find a comfortable position to sleep in, tossing and turning. It was a hot night, but that wasn’t the reason. I was boiling up, my skin feeling heated and prickly, and no matter which position I tried I could not get comfortable.
Finally, I flopped on my back, staring at my ceiling with the diamond chandelier, and I had to face the truth.
I missed Alexander.
Gritting my teeth, I stared at the cold hard dirty truth. Even though I was not going to stay in Norjava, I missed him.
Are you happy? I asked my subconscious irritably. I admitted it.
Before I learned that he was a disgusting cheater, I had loved sleeping next to him, the delicious way he smelled, the way he would pull me tightly against his chest, his lips falling to my neck, kissing and tickling me until I squealed with joy, usually getting hard again even if we’d just had sex, rolling me on top of his belly and kissing me while he thrust inside me with long, smooth strokes.
His kisses were incredible, making my body liquid, making my arms shake with the firm pressure, the feel of his tongue teasing my lips, tangling with my own.
But then like a jackass I was always left with a throbbing pussy! I reminded myself fiercely. He was a good kisser but a selfish lover and that was that.
And my core was heated now, almost painfully throbbing with pressure.
I slipped my hands down my panties, feeling how wet I was there, eagerly circling my clit with hasty fingers.
Maybe if I came I could finally go to sleep.
Of course, it had nothing to do with anything that had happened, or Alexander at all.
Definitely nothing to do with how he had looked tonight, the white shirt sticking to his chest, how broad his shoulders were when he bent over the lawnmower. Or how the callouses on his fingertips had brushed by my bare knees.
Feeling almost jittery, I moaned as my fingers zeroed in on my clit, my breath getting heavier as I added pressure, plunging two fingers inside my pussy, my hips thrusting in the air as I rode my fingers, needing something more, but desperate to come.
Then I heard a knock on the window, and I sat up with a jerk to see the man who was unfortunately still my husband standing on my balcony rapping at the door.
My moron self hadn’t even locked it, but Alexander didn’t push his way in, only opened it a crack.
It looked like he was breathing heavily, and he licked his lips.
“Can I come in, please?” he asked.
“What are you doing ?” I shrieked, pulling down the big baggy shirt I was wearing and trying to hide under the covers.
“I didn’t want you to think I was a creeper,” he said. “I had to let you know I was there.”
“How are you not a creeper, creeper?” I retorted. “What were you doing on my balcony?”
“Just putting your present there,” he said, waving his hand to where I saw a couple of keys hanging artistically from my window.
“I thought you might like a new car and a new yacht,” Alexander continued nervously. “We can sail anywhere you like, sweetheart. Norway, Hawaii, Botswana. You name it and we’ll go tomorrow.”
He was wearing a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants and his dick was standing out, hard and thick, against the fabric. He had obviously seen what I was doing.
“I don’t need a new car and I don’t want a yacht,” I said.
If I thought that would discourage him, I was dead wrong.
“Let me take care of you,” my husband replied, running his tongue over his lips, in a motion so unconscious I wasn’t even sure if he knew he had done it.
“I’m not having sex with you,” I said, squeezing my thighs together.
“That’s—that’s fine,” he said. “I just want to make you feel good.”
Stupid ovulation.
The craving in my pussy was painful now, a throbbing, beating ache, and if Alexander was going to be climbing all over the palace walls giving me unnecessary presents that infuriated me, he might as well make himself useful.
“All right,” I said. “But some rules,” I added, as his eyes immediately brightened at my words. “It’s not personal. I’m just using you for what you can give me. Like a sex toy. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Alexander came inside quickly, shutting the door to the balcony behind him.
“Can I kiss you?”
“No!” I said firmly. “No kissing, no touching me anywhere else. You are here to act like a vibrator, nothing more.”
“OK,” he said. “But I just want you to know that I want to kiss you so badly, Delilah. You don’t understand.”
“I understand that I don’t want you kissing me with your cheating lips,” I retorted.
Alexander tightened his mouth but nodded his head.
“I deserved that. But I do want you to know. Delilah, I’m a fucking disrespectful bastard but I barely even talked to those other women. I never even kissed them. You’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted to have anything but meaningless casual sex with.”
“It’s gross that you think that’s something to be proud of,” I shot at him, but inside I felt in turmoil.
Could he be telling the truth?
Could a man who had cheated on his wife so many times ever change?
“I’m not proud,” he said in a low tone. “The only thing I’m proud of is knowing you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just want to prove to you that I will never take you for granted ever again.”
He started to walk toward me, but I put a hand out to stop him.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “Crawl to me.”
I couldn’t look away as I watched that asshole immediately drop down to his hands and knees, heading toward me with his eyes locked on mine.
My breath caught in my chest as I watched him crawl toward me, the muscles moving in his broad shoulders and down his strong arms. My nipples began to peak, hardening against the thin fabric of my soft shirt.
When he reached the bed, I saw him take a deep breath and then stroke my legs with one careful finger.
“Such perfect satiny skin,” he groaned.
His touch sent shivers down my spine.
I swallowed, forcing my hands to still on the sheets.
“You have one job to do,” I said sternly.
“Yes, my Queen,” Alexander replied eagerly, and for a moment there was a teasing tone in his voice that reminded me of the Before Times so much that there was an ache in my chest.
Then he drew my panties down my legs, the tips of his fingers a tiny scrape down my heated skin.
“Ohhh,” he moaned. “You’re so beautiful, Delilah. Please let me put my mouth on you everywhere. I want to worship you.”
“No!” I said sharply. “You have one job.”
He made a low painful noise, but tightened his hands on my thighs, gently spreading them wide.
It felt depraved and wanton just to have my thighs so wide, my pussy spread in front of him. And he looked at me like he wanted to gobble me up.
But for a second the King hesitated.
“How do you like it?”
“This isn’t a how-to lesson,” I said sharply. “You have ten seconds to make me feel good or you can get out.”
“OK, OK,” he said, a sharp edge of panic in his voice, and he gnawed on his lip for a second.
I thought for sure, judging by his previous performances, that he was going to go jackhammering at me with his fingers, but he took a deep breath, that little line visible between his brows again.
“I read an article online that said starting out slow is better,” he said. “So I’m going to try that and you tell me if you want me to go slower or faster.”
Then he ran his big fingers through my pussy lips and started to circle my clit slowly, his fingers wet and slippery, my core begging for him now.
Well, fuck, I didn’t know what had gotten into him if he was reading articles about how to pleasure me, but I was dripping wet and it felt incredible.
I tightened my lips together because I didn’t want to let him see how it affected me, but it was impossible to maintain my detachment.
I hadn’t thought he could be so patient, slowly circling my clit, sending little sparks of pleasure fizzling all along my skin and down my spine.
I felt my core tighten, the liquid warmth dripping down past his hands to pool on my thighs.
He bent so close that I felt his breath like a whisper on my thighs, and his tongue flicked out, dragging slowly across my pussy lips, making my hips buck from the bed.
“Does that feel good?” Alexander asked, and I had to take a gulping breath before I could answer, my chest heaving up and down.
I had planned to close my eyes and not look at him, but now I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the sight of him between my legs, my thighs spread before him, the golden blonde of his hair in sharp contrast to my tanned skin.
“It’s acceptable,” I said, willing my voice to remain cool and aloof.
“Good,” he said, raising his eyes up to me and I felt transfixed by them.
For a moment he paused, lifting his head so I could see his mouth glistening with my wetness. His tongue flicked out to lick it eagerly up, making my core twist and clench.
“If you give me another chance, I will put your pleasure first. I don’t even have to come. I just want you to.”
“Nonsense,” I said stoutly, but that was the only word I could trust myself to say as he lowered his head and swirled his tongue around my clit, alternating firm pressure with gentle, teasing licks.
Need and hunger began to tighten urgently in my core, pooling deep in my belly, and I moaned aloud, clutching the bedsheets now. Dimly I was aware that this was only going to encourage him, but I couldn’t stop myself from the intoxicating pleasure of seeing him focused only on pleasing me.
“Can I put two fingers inside you?” he asked, his voice rough, jagged.
“Yes,” I almost whimpered. “Yes, you can.”
He slowly pressed two fingers inside me, curling them until they made the heat rush to my cheeks.
“Oh, you feel incredible,” he panted as my orgasm pressed at me, my pussy feeling hot and heavy with deep primal need. My back arched off the bed, desperate for more.
He drew my clit into his mouth and I exploded, moaning and crying out as the pleasure filled me, coming all over Alexander’s face and riding his hand with jerky little motions of my hips until I was sated and weak.
Gasping, I finally opened my eyes, focusing slowly on the ceiling.
Well, holy shit . That had been the best orgasm of my life. And from my infuriating jackass husband, no less.
As my eyes focused, I brought them down to him and saw Alexander was clutching the side of the bed and looking down at his sweats, where there was a big wet spot right above his dick.
Oh my god . He had come in his pants.
“I didn’t say you could come,” I said, my heart pounding in my chest.
“That has never happened to me before,” he said, clenching and unclenching his fists on the side of the bed. “I need to go change.”
“Vibrators don’t get to come,” I said sternly, but inwardly I was very surprised.
“I’m sorry, Delilah,” he said in a low tone. “You were—you were just so hot. And when you came like that, your body tightening around my fingers, I couldn’t stop. I’ll go change and be right back.”
As soon as he had disappeared over the balcony, I got up, my legs almost buckling under me, and locked the door. Then I collapsed back into bed.
It was barely three minutes later when he swung his long legs over the side of my balcony again.
Was he climbing the fucking wall to get to me?
“Please let me in,” he begged. “I just want to be close to you. I can barely sleep without you, Delilah!”
“Go sleep with Julia,” I said. “Or Jewel. Or any of the other women you’ve been fucking since we got married!”
“I don’t want to sleep with them!” he cried. “I want to sleep with you.”
“Well, you should have thought of that before sticking your dick in them,” I said, turning my back on him and flicking the curtains shut.
“Please!”
“Go to bed!” I yelled, heading into the bathroom to brush my teeth.
But when I finished and went back to check on him, cautiously pulling the curtains aside, Alexander was still there, slumping against the door. He’d gone to get a sweatshirt but otherwise he was settling in like he planned to stay all night.
I rapped on the glass. “What are you doing?”
“I just want to be close to you,” he begged. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I can barely take a breath without you, Delilah.”
I sighed, rapidly going through my options.
Leave him out there so he could knock on the door all night.
Or let him inside.
There was only a week and a half until I left for good.
“Ok, but only on the floor.”
“Anything, Delilah!” he said eagerly as I opened the door. “I just want to prove to you that I want you only and that if you give me a chance I’ll never ever cheat on you again.”
“Once a cheater, always a cheater,” I said dismissively, heading back to my enormous soft bed.
Was Alexander really going to sleep on the floor, just because I said so? He wouldn’t try to get in the bed or go back to his own expensive luxury one?
“No, God, no,” he said, grabbing my arm. “Please. It’s just the way I thought things were. I was a complete dumbass. My mother never said anything, never seemed to mind. But I never want to do it again because the idea disgusts me now. And because it hurt you and that kills me. And I hate you being mad at me. I hate being away from you. It’s unendurable.”
“Maybe all this fine print would’ve been nice to know before the wedding,” I said angrily, yanking away from him. “Like ‘oh, by the way, it’s expected that I just cheat on you.’ But you didn’t say that, did you? So you knew it was wrong.”
His eyes were shadowed with pain, but he still held my angry gaze. “I knew it was wrong,” he agreed. “I didn’t know what would happen. I didn’t know how it would feel to have the wife you’re in love with say she doesn’t want to be married anymore, all because of my own actions. And I never want to do anything that makes you say that ever again.”
“Well, get on the floor, then,” I said grumpily, flouncing into my own bed. “All this is too little, too late.”
“The floor is fine,” Alexander said, stretching his long body out beside me. “I want to take every opportunity to be close to you.”
My mind was in a whirl.
Was he just doing the same thing he had done when I met him? Charming me when I should have known better?
Was there any possible way he was telling the truth?
On one hand, he had been peeling potatoes and scrubbing the kitchen floors for weeks because I told him he was a selfish person who didn’t think about anyone else.
On the other hand, he was tall, golden, charming, sexy as hell, and literally the KING of a wealthy country. How could I trust a thing he said? How could I know he meant what he said?
I tuned to look at Alexander. He was already asleep, curled up on the floor in his sweatpants and sweatshirt, no pillow or blanket, just using his arm as a pillow.
I took a close, slow look at him for the first time since I had told him it was over.
The circles under his eyes were shadowy, dark, deep smudges, and there were lines I hadn’t seen before, creased across his forehead and between his eyes.
He was gorgeous, but, also, he looked awful. Like he had barely been sleeping.
I hesitated, then grabbed one of my blankets and threw it over him.