Chapter 19 #3
His fingers tangle in my hair, gripping the strands firmly at the nape of my neck. It’s a possessive hold, as if he’s afraid I might vanish if he dares to let go.
But there is nowhere else I would rather be than right here, captured by him, with him looking at me like I am everything he wants. Our bodies press together, skin against skin, his breath hot against mine.
A broken moan escapes my lips as I grind my hips against him, craving more. His hand slips down to guide himself. He rubs the thick head of his cock over my clit, sliding down to my entrance, then dragging it back up. A wet, torturous caress.
When he reaches my entrance again, I rise on my knees, needing him more than I can stand. He holds me firmly by the waist, and I sink down on his cock, inch by inch, shivering as he stretches me, filling me completely.
In this position, he hits a spot inside me that makes it hard to breathe.
He leans forward, his mouth hovering over my breast, teasing my nipple with his tongue until it hardens into a peak, aching and sensitive against his lips.
He shifts his attention to the other breast, and I grip his hair, tugging at the strands.
“I think I’m obsessed with your breasts, Cecilia,” he growls against my skin, the rough graze of his beard dragging over my chest.
“They’re not even big,” I manage to gasp, the words spilling out as a self-conscious moan and a laugh.
He ignores my protest, doesn’t dignify it with words. He flicks his tongue against the nipple before sealing his lips around it, sucking hard. His hands dig into my hips, holding me to him with a bruising, possessive hold.
I begin to move, grinding down against him, gasping every time he hits that sweet spot buried deep inside.
“Keep riding me, tesoro,” he commands, his voice hoarse.
As if sensing I can’t maintain the pace he needs, he slides his hands down to cup my ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He takes charge of my movements, lifting me and pulling me down. My pussy clenches around him, squeezing tight.
I might be the one on top, but he is the one in control. With a firm grip, he dictates the rhythm, thrusting upward to set a relentless pace.
I feel the tension coiling tight in my belly.
His mouth seems to be everywhere at once—hot on my throat, my breasts, my lips—distracting me, overstimulating me.
He pulls me impossibly closer, shifting the angle just enough to hit a nerve that makes my vision blur. As he picks up speed, I shatter, crying out his name, begging for more. I don’t want him to stop. I never want him to stop.
Alexander lets out a deep groan as my body spasms around him. He lunges forward, never breaking the connection, his weight pressing me back down onto the mattress.
Trembling, I lock my legs around his waist. He withdraws almost entirely before slamming back into me, the impact drawing a torn scream from my throat.
“Yes, tesoro. Don’t hold back. I want to hear you,” he growls against my mouth.
Another loud moan escapes me; I hardly recognize the wild urgency in my own voice.
He supports his weight with one arm, using the other to grip my thigh, pinning it to the mattress to open me wider. He moves with abandon now, driving deeper, harder, chasing the end.
Rough Italian whispers spill from his lips as he drives me toward another orgasm just when I thought I was already spent.
I flutter my eyes open to find him watching me, his rhythm unwavering, his gaze dark on mine.
“Dio, I could live right here,” he rasps. “Buried deep inside you.”
I pull him down into a passionate kiss, our moans intertwining, our bodies slick with sweat, sliding against each other with every movement.
My hands tangle in his hair, my nails digging into his shoulders as the wave begins to crest. I clench around him, and he groans into my mouth.
His hand grips the nape of my neck, holding me as his lips claim mine again. His thrusts don’t relent; each one is deeper than the last, as if he’s trying to mark me from the inside out. There are no pauses, no breaks.
“Alexander... I—I...” I moan, my head thrown back.
Alexander’s grip tightens on the nape of my neck. Without slowing the punishing rhythm, he whispers directly into my ear, his breath scorching my skin. “You drive me mad, tesoro. The way you give in to me... it’s perfection.”
The words are the final push. Shivers rack my spine, and I convulse, the orgasm crashing over me with the force of a tidal wave.
Alexander keeps thrusting hard before he finally breaks. A guttural groan escapes him as he seeks my lips, falling apart with me. He kisses me savagely, refusing to let me go even as the aftershocks roll through us.
We remain entwined, kissing and caressing, his body pressing flush and hot over mine. He stays buried deep inside me, as if he physically can’t bear to pull away.
When he finally breaks the kiss, his gaze locks onto mine. He cradles my face in his palms, his voice hoarse as he whispers, “Sei il mio sole, la mia luna, e ogni stella del mio cielo.”
I don’t ask for a translation.
Maybe I’m afraid of the truth I see burning in his gaze. Or maybe I simply don’t need one. His eyes tell me everything I need to know.
So, I kiss him again, tenderly, letting my body answer for me, revealing everything I’m not yet brave enough to say.
Except for this. I won’t run from this anymore. I won’t run from us.