Chapter 40
Liv
“This doesn't mean I forgave you,” I say, trying to sound like I'm still in charge even though I'm in the midst of falling apart so deliciously. My voice trembles slightly, betraying the lie. I'm naked from the waist down, my shirt rucked up under my breasts, and Alex's head is between my thighs.
“Mm-hmm,” he murmurs into my folds, the vibration sending a jolt straight through me. His response is noncommittal, a sound of pure satisfaction that tells me he knows exactly how much power he holds right now, regardless of my empty threats.
His tongue flicks against my clit, and I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair.
I try to hold on, to maintain some semblance of control, but it's useless.
He knows every sensitive spot, every secret place that makes me tremble.
He's been studying me, learning my body, and now he's using that knowledge against me in the most delicious way possible.
“Alex,” I breathe, my hips arching off the bed. “God, don't stop.”
He chuckles against my skin, a low, masculine sound of triumph. “Wasn't planning on it.”
His hands grip my thighs, holding me open to his assault. His tongue explores me thoroughly, circling my clit before dipping lower to tease my entrance. I'm already so wet, so ready for him, but he takes his time, drawing out the pleasure until I'm writhing beneath him, desperate for more.
“Please,” I beg, my voice hoarse. “Please, Alex.”
He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire, his face glistening with my arousal. “Please what, Liv?”
“Make me come,” I demand, trying to inject authority into my voice, but it comes out as a desperate plea.
He grins, a slow, predatory smile that makes my stomach clench. “As you wish.”
He lowers his head again, his mouth closing over my clit. This time, there's no teasing, no gentle exploration. He sucks hard, his tongue flicking rapidly against the sensitive nub. At the same time, he slides two fingers inside me, curling them to hit that perfect spot deep within.
The dual sensation is overwhelming. I spiral into an orgasm with a cry that's half his name and half a sob.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, leaving me breathless and trembling.
He doesn't stop immediately, drawing out it until I'm pushing at his head, oversensitive and desperate for a reprieve.
Finally, he lifts his head, looking smug and utterly gorgeous. “Still mad at me?” he asks, his voice rough with satisfaction.
I'm too boneless to form a coherent response, but the anger is still there, simmering beneath the surface of my satisfaction. He violated my trust, ran my DNA without my consent, and no amount of incredible oral sex can erase that completely.
But it can certainly make me forget it for a little while.
“Get on the bed,” I command, pushing myself up. My legs are shaky, but I manage to stand, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it aside. Now I'm completely naked, and I can feel his eyes on me, appreciating what he sees.
He raises an eyebrow but complies, stretching out on his back, his hands behind his head. The position is casual and confident, but I can see the desire in his eyes, the way his gaze roams over my body.
I straddle him, my knees on either side of his hips. His cock is hard against my thigh, a testament to his arousal. I rock against him, teasing us both, enjoying the way his breath hitches.
“Liv,” he warns, his voice low. “Don't tease.”
“Who's in charge here?” I retort, though we both know the answer.
I reach between us, wrapping my hand around his length. He's thick and heavy in my palm, the skin velvety over steel. I stroke him slowly, watching his face, enjoying the way his eyes darken, the way his jaw clenches with restraint.
“Condom,” he manages, his voice strained.
I lean over him, my breasts brushing against his chest as I reach for the nightstand.
His hands come up to cup my ass, squeezing as I fumble with the drawer.
Finally, I find what I'm looking for, tearing open the packet then rolling it, my hands steady despite the tremor in my heart.
This is it. This is where I take back control.
I position him at my entrance, pausing for a moment to look down at him. His eyes are locked on mine, a mixture of desire and something deeper, something that looks suspiciously like something more. The thought is both terrifying and exhilarating.
I sink down slowly, taking him inch by inch. The stretch is exquisite, a perfect, full pressure that makes me gasp. I pause when he's fully inside me, giving us both a moment to adjust, to feel every inch of him.
“Move,” he demands, his hands gripping my hips.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I'll move when I'm ready.”
I wait just long enough that even I can’t stand it anymore then start to rock, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that's all about my pleasure. I set the pace, the depth, and the angle. I'm in control here, not him. I'm the one calling the shots, and the knowledge is intoxicating.
I lean forward, bracing my hands on his chest as I increase my pace. His eyes are closed now, his head thrown back, and his throat working as he swallows hard. He's falling apart, and I'm the one making it happen. I'm the one in control.
“Open your eyes,” I command. “Look at me.”
He does, and the raw need I see there takes my breath away. “Liv,” he breathes, his voice ragged. “God, Liv.”
I ride him harder, faster, chasing my own pleasure even as I watch his. His hands are everywhere, on my breasts, my hips, then my ass, gripping me, guiding me, and urging me on. The friction builds, a delicious tension that coils deep within me.
“I'm close,” I pant, my rhythm becoming erratic.
“Me too,” he grunts, his hips bucking up to meet my thrusts.
The combination is too much. I spiral into another orgasm with a cry that's even less intelligible than the last one. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, leaving me breathless and trembling. He follows me over the edge with a guttural groan, his hips jerking as he finds his own release.
We collapse together, a tangle of limbs, sweat, and satisfaction. I'm boneless and sated, but the anger is still there, simmering beneath the surface of my contentment.
I roll off him, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling. The post-orgasm bliss is already fading, replaced by the reality of our situation.
“You ran my DNA, Alex,” I condemn, my voice flat. “You violated my trust.”
He turns onto his side, propping his head on his hand to look at me. “I know,” he says, his voice quiet. “And I'm sorry. I was worried about you, Liv. I needed to know if you were in more danger than we realized.”
“That's not your decision to make,” I say, turning to face him. “My life, my past, and my choices. They're mine, not yours.”
“I know,” he repeats, his expression serious. “And it won't happen again. I swear.”
I want to believe him. I do believe him. But the hurt is still there, raw and fresh. “I need time,” I say finally. “I need... space.”
He nods, his expression understanding. “Whatever you need, Liv. Just... don't shut me out. Please.”
I don't promise anything. I can't. But as I lie there in the aftermath, I know that walking away from him is the last thing I want to do. He's under my skin, in my blood, and I'm not sure I'll ever be free of him.
The question is, do I even want to be?