Chapter 51 #4
So I smile around his cock. Then I sink again, letting him hit deeper into the tight clutch of my throat.
This time, he groans. The sound wrecks me, hungry and desperate, his hand tightening but not forcing. He just holds on, anchoring himself.
Then I start to move—slurping, sucking, licking along every ridge, finding what makes him twitch, what makes his thighs tense, what makes his chest heave.
Letting myself explore everything I’ve been holding back for years.
Each grunt, each sharp inhale from him sends a jolt of pride through me, my ego swelling with every curse that slips past his lips.
I gag and push further, reckless with the need to give him every part of me I’ve held back for so long.
“You’re… fucking killing me,” he growls, voice rough and wrecked.
The sound vibrates through me, and I moan around him. The vibration makes him shudder, his grip tightening in my hair as if he’s seconds from losing the last of his control.
And hell, I want him to lose it. I want to be the one to break him.
My own cock aches, weeping, desperate, and ignored. But it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is Alex—his voice breaking, his body trembling, his cock filling my mouth like it was always meant to be here.
“Yes, princess… just like that,” he grits out, his fist tightening in my hair as I swirl my tongue over his swollen head. I pump him with both hands, messy, needy, while I drag my mouth up and down his shaft. His voice sharpens, almost breaking. “Fuck—you’re gonna make me cum.”
And then it happens. He thrusts, a sharp buck of his hips like instinct taking over, forcing himself deeper into my throat. I choke, gag loudly, eyes flying to his. He freezes immediately, apology written all over his face.
But I don’t stop him. I tap his thigh, giving him a look that says Don’t you dare hold back from me and also begging him silently to keep going.
“You want me to thrust?” His voice is ruined, eyes hazed with lust and war.
I answer with a moan and a rough bob of my head down his length.
That’s all it takes. His control snaps. His thighs spread wider, his grip on my hair turns iron, and he fucks into my mouth—slow at first, then harder, deeper.
His cock drives down my throat, tears streaking my eyes, the feeling magical.
I don’t stop him, I can’t. His hips roll with controlled but hungry thrusts.
He doesn’t look away. His eyes stay locked on mine, watching the way I take him, watching me fall apart on his cock.
“Fuck, baby…” His voice is raw, laced with ecstasy. “You look so beautiful like this. Your mouth feels so good—so warm—so fucking mine.”
Every word goes straight to my cock, to the pressure building low in my belly.
I can’t stand it. My hand flies down, shoving into my shorts, gripping myself hard.
I’m leaking, throbbing, close to the edge just from his words, from the way he uses my mouth.
Every thrust to my throat makes my whole body quake with need.
“Do you want my cum?” His voice is raw, broken, every word dripping with need.
His cock pulses against my tongue, his thrusts sharper, rougher.
Tears blur my vision, my throat raw, but it only makes me hungrier.
Fuck. I could come just from this, just from him using my mouth like this, just from the way he’s unraveling me.
I hum around him, taking him deeper, refusing to let go.
“Baby…” His tone shifts—pleading now, desperate, his hands twitch in my hair like he’s trying to tug me off. Instead, I hollow my cheeks, sucking harder, tighter, like I can fuse him to me.
“Fuuuck—” he groans, guttural, undone. And then he breaks.
Hot, thick release spills down my throat in heavy pulses, filling me, branding me.
I moan against him, swallowing greedily, sucking him through every wave, slurping every drop, shuddering with the sheer intensity of having him, tasting him, claiming him like this.
I don’t let a single drop go to waste.
When he finally pulls out, slow and shaky, my mouth feels empty, ruined, aching for more. His thumb brushes across my swollen lips, slow, reverent, as though he can’t believe I just gave him this. His eyes are molten, undone.
And then he’s pulling me into his arms, kissing me deep and unguarded. His tongue pushes into my mouth, tasting himself on me, his dominance laced with something softer, something that makes my chest ache as much as my throat. It’s filthy, intoxicating, and so goddamn hot I could cry.
“Are you alright?” he murmurs against my lips, searching my face like he’s afraid he’s broken me.
I nod quickly, breathless, my lips curling into a shy, shaky smile.
“Did… did you like it?”
The look he gives me burns me alive.
“You know I did,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of my nose, a shocking contrast to the hunger in him. “You were fucking incredible, Lucas. Amazing.”
His hand slides lower, cupping me through my shorts, making me gasp. His voice drops, thick with promise.
“And now, baby… It’s my turn. Let me make you cum.”
One dizzying ride on his cock and a shower that feels more like a slow undoing than actual cleaning later, my body is trembling, on the edge of collapse.
Every nerve is raw, every muscle heavy, but the only place I want to be is right here—tangled up with Alex in bed, our skin still warm, our breaths still syncing back into something steady.
His hand moves lazily through my hair, fingertips dragging in soothing, absent strokes that make my chest ache with how soft he is with me.
“Where do you want to go for the summer holiday?” he asks, voice low and almost casual, though I know him—he’s already planning. Always planning.
I shrug against his chest and tilt my face up to him.
“I don’t know. As long as I get to spend the summer break with you, I’m good.”
His lips curl, amused. “Getting cheeky these days, I see.”
I roll my eyes, but a grin pushes through. “Fine. Greece. Or the French Riviera.”
After everything that went down with the camera, heartbreak, and finally saying my mind to Nate, Alex had taken me to Bora Bora like he’d promised, like he needed to prove to me the world could still hold beauty.
Then, Lapland two weeks later for Christmas, where I’d seen the northern lights on my twenty-first birthday.
On New Year’s Eve, no less. It was so magical.
“We can do both,” he murmurs now, pressing a kiss into my hair. “But didn’t you once say you’d like to go back to Thailand?”
“Oh… right.” My voice softens, thoughtful.
Spring break comes back to me: Bangkok, where his mother’s family had treated me like I was already theirs, like royalty, with so much warmth I hadn’t known what to do with it.
Then, Chiang Mai, where I’d fallen in love with everything and never wanted to leave.
But spring break was only a week. School dragged me back too soon.
Maybe this time, three months would be enough.
Instead of saying any of that, I just whisper, “Thank you.”
His hand stills, then lifts my chin gently so I’m forced to meet his gaze.
“For what?” He asks
I swallow, the words thick.
“Everything,” I murmur. “And more importantly, for loving me and changing my life.”
He cups my face, his thumb brushing along my cheek with unbearable tenderness. And that fuck look, like I am the only thing he sees. Open, unwavering, endless. His love doesn’t dim; it burns brighter, steadier, like he falls for me again every single day. Just like I do with him.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says softly, voice so deep it vibrates through me.
“I keep telling you this, Lucas. I’m the lucky one.
Having you here, letting me in, trusting me with your heart…
it means more than anything. You give me peace.
No amount of power or money will ever be worth what you give me. ”
The lump in my throat makes it impossible to argue, even though I want to. He’ll never bend. Instead, I kiss him, trying to tell him everything that my words always fall short on. Every ounce of happiness, every shard of love that overwhelms so much that most times, I don’t know what to do with it.
He shifts, about to roll me beneath him, and I know that look—he’s ready to take me again, and I know my body, even though it’s drained, it can’t resist him. But then my phone shatters the tension, ringing across the nightstand.
He groans softly against my mouth, reluctantly breaking the kiss. He leans over to check the screen, then glances back at me.
“It’s Tyler,” he says.
I’m up in an instant, nearly shoving him back into the pillows. He chuckles, stretching out with that lazy satisfaction of a man who knows I’ll always come back to him.
When Tyler calls, I never miss it. He drops the wildest tea about his job, things that make my jaw drop every time.
I grab my phone and settle onto Alex’s lap, straddling him as I swipe to answer.
His big hands immediately slide to my hips, tracing idle circles like he refuses to stop touching me, like he can’t get his hands off me.
“God, Lucas—he kissed me!” Tyler blurts the second I pick up. “That bastard kissed me, and I slapped him.”
My eyes fly wide, not because he got kissed. I’d seen that coming since day one. The way they had looked at each other, I knew Tyler wouldn’t be able to escape him. No, what shocks me is the slap.
“You slapped your boss?!” I demand, incredulous. Alex catches my gaze, one brow arched, before letting out a quiet, amused laugh. It’s funny because he knows what’s going on with those two.
“I had to,” Tyler seethes, but his breathless edge betrays him. “Oh, Lucas, he drives me insane. Remember when you said he looks like the human version of Alex? He might look like it, but trust me, he’s the devil. One of these days, I swear I’ll take his gun and put a bullet through his skull.”
I bite back my laugh, pressing my lips together. I want to tell him that his boss might actually be into that, but I stop myself before he curses me out.
Poor Tyler. My best friend, who unknowingly stepped into the storm that is the Petrov family.