6. Heat Unfurled
Chapter six
Heat Unfurled
X ander
Ellie feels fucking perfect in my arms, soft and full everywhere. Her thick thighs are pressed against mine as she shifts in my lap, those little breathy moans driving me wild. I’m so fucking hard, and every time she whispers my name, I feel like I’m about to lose it.
“Alexander,” she gasps, her voice so soft, as my hands push her breasts together through the fabric of her dress. I groan, leaning forward to nip at her neck, feeling the way her body arches into me. She’s curvy and full, and the way she feels against me— Christ . I’ve wanted her for so long, and now she’s here, in my lap, and I’m losing every bit of control I thought I had.
I shift her, flipping her onto her back on the seat, kneeling between her legs. She watches me through her lashes, her lips swollen from our kisses, her lipstick smudged, looking a perfect mess. My hands skim up her thighs, pushing her dress higher and higher until it’s bunched around her hips.
And that’s when I see it—her drenched black thong. Fuck . I forget to breathe for a second. She’s so wet, so ready, and it’s all for me. I push her thighs apart and lean down, inhaling the scent of her arousal. The heat coming off her makes my cock ache, and all I can think about is tasting her.
“Wait,” she whispers, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me groan.
I look up, meeting her gaze, and I love the way she looks right now—her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed. Messy . Her lipstick is smeared, her hair slightly out of place, and she’s staring at me with that dazed look that makes me want to devour her.
“We don’t have to do this,” she murmurs, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.
I shake my head, the need in me too strong. “I’m dying for a taste,” I growl, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh. “Just one taste, please.”
She hesitates, then nods, her breath catching.
I grip her thighs, pushing them wider, and lean in, pressing my tongue against the fabric of her thong. She whimpers, her hips lifting slightly, and the sound goes straight to my cock. I grind my face against her, tasting her through the thin material, my hands squeezing her thighs as I press deeper.
She’s fucking soaking.
I slide her panties to the side, revealing her—wet, glistening, and pink—and I forget how to breathe again. She’s perfect. Fucking perfect. I know, in this moment, that this image of her, spread out in front of me, will be burned into my mind for the rest of my life. I can’t wait another second—I dive in, licking her slowly, tasting her properly.
She tastes like honey and vanilla, sweet and addictive. I groan as the flavor bursts on my tongue, gripping her thighs harder as I suck her clit into my mouth. She moans, her hands tugging harder at my hair, her hips grinding against my face.
I can feel myself leaking in my boxers, already so fucking turned on just from the taste of her. I suck her harder, licking and grinding my face against her until her thighs tremble around my head. I lose myself in the rhythm, the way she’s whimpering, the way she’s losing control under me.
Just when I think I’m about to push her over the edge, the driver’s voice comes over the intercom. “Mr. Blackwood, we’re at Miss. Sander’s building.”
Fuck . No. Not yet.
I press the button, my voice rough as I say, “Circle the block.”
Ellie cries out my name, her fingers tightening in my hair, and I look up, my lips brushing against her inner thigh. “I need you to come on my tongue, Ellie,” I growl, my voice desperate. “Please.”
She moans, her body arching, and I bury my face back between her thighs, licking her, sucking her clit until I feel the tremor run through her legs. She’s trembling, her knees pressing in, locking me in place as I lick her faster, harder.
And then she breaks, a long moan spilling from her lips as she comes, her thighs trembling around my head, her fingers pulling at my hair. I hold her there, my mouth still working her as pleasure washes over her, her body shuddering, her moans filling the small space of the car.
It’s the single most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
When she finally lets me come up for air, I lean back, breathing hard, watching her as she tries to catch her breath. She looks wrecked, her body limp, her lips parted, her eyes half-lidded.
I lean over her, kissing her gently, letting her taste herself on my lips. She’s soft, pliable, melting into the kiss like she’s completely given in to whatever this is between us.
“That was…” she starts, her voice trailing off, like she’s trying to find the right words.
I smile, pressing my lips to hers again. “Perfect,” I say softly. “You’re perfect.”
She looks outside the window, realizing we’re back in front of her building. Her cheeks flush, and she glances at me, then down at my very obvious bulge. “If you need help with that…” she starts, her voice teasing, a small smile playing on her lips.
I shake my head, pulling back slightly. “I can take care of it,” I murmur, my hand brushing against her cheek. “It’s been a long night. You need to rest.”
She nods, moving slowly as she slips her heels back on, straightening her dress, though I can tell she’s still a little dazed from what just happened. I can’t stop watching her, my chest tight, my cock still painfully hard, but I don’t care. Right now, I’m more focused on the fact that she’s here, with me, and I’m not ready to let her go.
She opens the car door, pausing to look back at me. “Goodnight, Alexander.”
I reach out, brushing my thumb over her swollen lips, still slick from our kiss. “Goodnight, Ellie.”
I watch her walk to her gate, her hips swaying slightly, and before I can stop myself, I’m out of the car, jogging after her.
She turns, surprised, just as I catch up to her. I don’t say a word—I just press her against the wall again, kissing her hard, grinding my hips into hers so she can feel exactly what she does to me.
She gasps into my mouth, her hands gripping my jacket as I press closer, my cock straining against her. I kiss her like I’m starving, like I need her more than air, and she responds just as desperately, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
“Don’t be late for work tomorrow,” I murmur against her lips, my voice low and rough.
She smiles, her lips brushing against mine as she whispers, “Okay.”
I kiss her once more, hard, then pull back, my body still buzzing with need. I force myself to step away, to let her go, even though every part of me wants to drag her back to my car and finish what we started.
I watch her walk inside, then run back to the car, hard and happy.
Ellie Sanders is burrowing herself under my skin, and I am not sure I would have it any other way.
The drive home feels like I’m floating, not fully grounded. Everything’s a blur. My mind keeps drifting back to the taste of Ellie on my tongue, the way her body responded to me, the soft, breathy sounds she made. I can still feel the heat of her against me, still smell her vanilla scent clinging to my skin.
Fuck .
I’m dazed, half-drunk on her, my thoughts a tangled mess of lust, adrenaline, and something else—something I’m not ready to unpack yet.
When I get home, the penthouse feels too quiet, too empty, compared to the chaos swirling in my head. I walk straight to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, downing half of it in one long gulp. Hydrate, calm down. But it’s not helping. My heart’s still racing, my skin too hot.
As I lean back against the counter, my phone buzzes. I glance at it, and I’m almost embarrassed by how fast I reach for it, hoping it’s Ellie. But when I turn it over, it’s not her.
It’s Vanessa .
Shit .
I freeze for a second, unsure whether to ignore it or deal with it. I’ve been screening her calls for days, made it clear I wasn’t interested in whatever she’s trying to rekindle. But my thumb swipes across the screen before I can stop myself, and suddenly, her face fills the display.
Fuck, fuck, fuck .
“Hey, baby,” she purrs, her platinum blonde hair perfectly styled, her sharp green eyes assessing me like she always does, like she’s trying to read me, trying to figure out what I want. She’s wearing lingerie—black lace, barely covering anything—and I know she’s wearing it for me. She’s biting her lip, and they look… fuller. She’s definitely had something done recently. Probably filler.
“Hey, Vanessa,” I say, keeping my voice flat, uninterested.
She doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn’t care. “I’ve been trying to reach you,” she says, pouting a little, like it’s supposed to make me feel something. “Where’ve you been?”
“Busy,” I reply, setting the water bottle down. “What’s up?”
“I’m good as you can see. You can see me clearly, can’t you?”
“I can see you clearly,” I say swallowing the lump forming in my throat. Why do I feel so guilty talking to her less than an hour after kissing Ellie.
“I miss you,” she says, dragging the word out as she shifts, making sure I get a full view of her breasts spilling out of the lingerie. “And you didn’t answer my question.” She gives me a sly smile. “Do you like what I’m wearing?”
I sigh, already regretting picking up the call. “Why are you calling me half-naked, Vanessa?”
She pouts, glancing down at her chest like she’s surprised by her own state of undress. “Oh, I didn’t even realize,” she giggles, and the sound grates on my nerves. “I was in Milan, trying on some new lingerie. Thought you might appreciate a sneak peek.”
Yeah, it looks good. It always does on her. She’s tall, 5’9”, with a model’s figure, long legs, perfectly toned, the kind of body that stops traffic. The black set clings to her, highlighting everything she’s clearly spent hours in the gym sculpting. She looks stunning—she always does—but my mind is elsewhere.
Specifically, on Ellie.
I can’t help but wonder how she’d look in that set. Her curves filling it out in all the right places, her soft body in my hands. I shake the thought away, trying to focus.
“I’m exhausted,” I say, my voice flat. “I’m heading to bed.”
Vanessa’s face falls slightly, her lips twisting into something between a pout and frustration. “Oh... okay,” she says, trying to sound breezy, but I can hear the disappointment. “Well, I’ll be back in New York soon. How about we get dinner? Catch up?”
I stare at her through the screen, debating whether I should just cut her off right now. End this before it gets more complicated. But for some reason, I can’t muster the energy for a fight.
“Maybe,” I say instead, knowing damn well I’m not going to make time for her.
She perks up a little at that. “Great! I’ll text you when I’m back.”
“I really need to go,” I say, not waiting for her response before I hang up.
A few seconds later, my phone buzzes again. It’s a text from Vanessa—a selfie of her in that same lingerie, pouting at the camera. The caption reads, I’ll wear this for you when I’m back.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, tossing my phone onto the counter. Not tonight .
I rub a hand over my face, trying to shake off the irritation. Everything about that call felt wrong, like a bad reminder of the past I’ve been trying to leave behind. Vanessa’s world, her perfectly curated life—it’s empty. Shallow. I don’t want any part of it anymore.
I need to burn off this energy, get my head straight before I head to bed. So I head to the indoor pool. The water’s always been my place to think, to reset. I strip down, diving in, the cold shock of the water cutting through the haze in my mind. Stroke after stroke, I let my body move, pushing the thoughts out, focusing on the burn in my muscles, the rhythm of my breathing.
But no matter how many laps I swim, I can’t get rid of the lingering thoughts of Ellie. The taste of her. The way her body trembled beneath me. The way she cried out my name when she came, her fingers gripping my hair, pulling me deeper.
I groan, pushing off the wall harder, trying to swim the tension out of me. But it’s useless. She’s under my skin now. The feel of her, the way she looks at me, like she’s trying to figure me out— fuck .
I finish another lap, pulling myself out of the water, droplets cascading down my body as I grab a towel. My muscles are still tense, the burn in my chest hasn’t gone away. I can feel the energy thrumming under my skin, and I know sleep isn’t going to come easy tonight.
But then I think about work tomorrow. About her coming into the office. About seeing her again, maybe stealing another kiss, feeling her melt against me the way she did tonight.
I catch myself smiling, shaking my head as I walk back to the bedroom. The night almost went to shit when Logan showed up, that smug bastard. He almost ruined everything. But thank fuck I ended it the way I did—with the taste of Ellie on my tongue, her moans still echoing in my head.
I towel off, pulling on a pair of boxers before collapsing onto the bed. The sheets are cool, but my body is still too hot, my thoughts racing. I grab my phone again, checking for any new messages, half-hoping, half-expecting to see something from her.
Nothing.
That’s fine. I’ll see her in the morning.
I set the phone down on the nightstand, flipping onto my back and staring up at the ceiling, my mind spinning with a thousand different thoughts, most of them centering on Ellie and the way she looked at me tonight. The way she tasted. The way her body felt in my hands.
I close my eyes, letting the exhaustion from the day finally pull me under, more excited for tomorrow than I’ve been in a long fucking time.
*
She knocks on my office door, and the second I hear it, my whole body tightens in anticipation.
“You called?” Ellie’s voice slips through the crack in the door, soft but strong, and fuck, just hearing her is enough to make my cock twitch.
I look up, and there she is, standing in the doorway, dressed in a white blouse that clings to her curves in all the right places, and a tight black pencil skirt that shows off her full hips. The fabric stretches over her thighs, and all I can think about is how fucking good it would feel to slide that skirt up, just enough to get my hands on her.
“Close the door,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended.
Her eyes flicker with something—hesitation, maybe—but she listens. The door clicks shut behind her, and my office feels smaller. More intimate. The tension between us hums in the air, thick and charged, and I know, without a doubt, I’m about to lose control.
“Come here,” I murmur, my gaze locked on her as she takes slow, deliberate steps toward me. My desk is between us, but the distance feels like nothing as she moves closer.
The second she’s within reach, I grab her by the waist, lifting her onto my desk. Her breath hitches as she settles onto the polished wood, her legs dangling over the edge, her skirt riding up just enough for me to see the lace at the top of her stockings.
Fuck. I’m already losing it.
I lean in, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s hard, desperate, my hands gripping her hips as she writhes against me. She moans into my mouth, her hands sliding up my chest, fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt as if she’s holding on for dear life.
“This is so wrong,” she giggles between kisses, her lips swollen from the heat between us.
I pull back just enough to cup her cheeks, forcing her to look at me. “What are you doing this weekend?”
She blinks, a little breathless. “What?”
“This weekend,” I repeat, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she says, a little confused, still trying to catch up to where my mind is headed.
“Good,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss her again, harder this time. “Camilla invited me to the grand opening of her newest hotel.” My lips trail down to her neck, sucking gently at the sensitive spot just below her ear, making her moan softly. “And I want you to come with me.”
Her breath catches again, but this time, it’s not just from the kiss. She pulls back slightly, her eyes wide. “You want me to go with you? To a hotel?”
“Say yes,” I whisper, my mouth tracing the line of her jaw. “Come with me.”
She hesitates, her hands clutching my shoulders. “Alexander… this is—”
I stop her with a kiss, cutting off whatever excuse she’s about to make. My hands are on her waist, sliding down to her hips, gripping her tightly as I pull her closer to the edge of the desk. I want her so fucking bad, and the thought of spending a weekend with her, away from everything, just the two of us? It’s driving me wild.
“Say yes, Ellie,” I growl against her lips, my hands sliding lower, inching her skirt up just enough to feel the heat of her skin beneath my palms.
She bites her lip, a flush creeping up her neck. “Okay.”
I smile, pressing my forehead against hers, my fingers teasing the edge of her stockings. “Good. Pack a bikini.”
Her brows shoot up. “I thought this was for work?”
“It is,” I say, smirking. “But it’ll be fun. I promise.”
She hesitates again, and for a second, I think she might change her mind. But then she tugs her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes darting to my mouth, and all I can think about is how much I want to go down on her right fucking now.
Control yourself .
“If you don’t want to…” I start, but she cuts me off with a look—one that tells me she’s all in, despite whatever doubts might be swirling in her head.
“No,” she says, shaking her head slightly. “I’ll go.”
I lean in, kissing her again, deeper this time, my tongue sliding into her mouth as she moans softly. She tastes like heaven. I can’t get enough.
But I have to stop. We’re in my office, for fuck’s sake, and as much as I want to strip her right here, I know I can’t lose control completely. Not yet.
I pull back, just enough to look at her. She’s flushed, her lips swollen, her breathing uneven, and all I can think is how beautiful she looks right now. I cup her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek.
“Good,” I say softly. “We’ll leave Friday.”
She nods, still catching her breath, her hands gripping the edge of the desk like she needs it to keep herself grounded.
I lean in, pressing one last kiss to her lips before pulling away completely, straightening my tie as I step back. “Get ready, Ellie. It’s going to be a hell of a weekend.”
She watches me for a moment, her eyes lingering on my mouth before she slips off the desk, smoothing down her skirt.
“I guess I’ll see you later then,” she says, her voice still a little shaky.
“Count on it,” I reply, my voice low as I watch her walk toward the door. Just before she leaves, she glances back at me, her eyes still clouded with that same desire that’s been buzzing between us all day.
The second the door closes behind her, I let out a breath, leaning back against my desk. My cock is straining against my pants, hard as fucking steel, and all I can think about is how close I was to completely losing it.
I can’t wait for this weekend.