Chapter 25 #2
Alexander doesn’t enter me at once. He wraps a firm hand around himself, guiding the thick head, slick with pre-cum, along my entrance.
He thumps the tip on my clit, once, twice, before dragging it over the swollen nerve, pressing exactly where it aches until my back arches with a broken whimper, begging for more.
“Patience, Cecilia,” he teases, though his own voice betrays his desperation.
He repeats the torture for what feels like an eternity until, finally, he lines himself up and slides in inch by inch. Stretching me to the brink of pain, filling me completely.
His gaze is locked on the place where our bodies join. I touch his arm and he looks up; we feel every inch of that push mirrored in our locked eyes, his face tight with pleasure.
But the moment he feels my body clamp down around him, he thrusts hard, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. It rips a loud groan from both of us. Our bodies lock together with the slap of skin, hips colliding in pure relief.
We stay like that, moaning together. He fills me, and he heals me.
Alexander buries his face in my neck, his hot breath washing over my skin. He begins to move with a relentless, driving rhythm, pulling back almost completely before sinking deep again.
“I was wrong...” he grunts. “Being inside you is the best feeling of my life. But feeling you like this... skin on skin... so hot, so soft... Dio, you were made to be mine... we fit perfectly.”
Emotion floods my chest, so strong that I can no longer hold it back. The words have been stuck in my throat for days, clawing to get out.
“Ti amo, Alexander,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
He freezes. His body tenses over mine, and he lifts his head to stare at me. His gaze is intense.
“Ti amo, amore. I love you,” he says, his voice fierce.
He lowers his head, kissing my chest, my shoulders, tasting every inch of skin his mouth can reach.
I feel tears prick my eyes at the emotions in his face.
His large hands leave my waist, trailing up the length of my arms until they reach my wrists.
He closes around them and pins my arms above my head, lacing our fingers together.
His eyes hold mine as he looms over me.
“Say it again,” he demands, his voice rough as he begins to move inside me once more.
“Ti amo,” I gasp, the pleasure bleeding into the confession.
“Again,” he urges, driving deep. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Ti amo! Ti amo, Alexander!”
“I love you too, Cecilia,” he growls back, his voice hoarse. “More than words can ever say.”
He pulls almost all the way out, then snaps his hips forward, driving back in with everything he has.
Alexander finds the perfect rhythm. He holds my wrists in just one hand and with the other, he hikes my thigh higher, opening me completely to him, taking me at a pace that gets harder and faster.
The slap of our bodies colliding, skin on skin, fills the room. Alexander whispers my name against my skin. I moan, whimper, even laugh in sheer disbelief at how good it feels. He alternates between kissing and biting my neck.
My body answers him as it only ever does with Alexander. My back arches, my hips rising to meet every stroke, every nerve on fire. The pressure in my lower belly coils tight, spreading heat. It’s a sensation so intense it borders on pain.
Alexander tightens his grip on my wrists. “Like this, Cecilia. Just feel me. Feel what you do to me. What I make you feel,” he commands.
His words sink into me, and he picks up the pace, every thrust deeper, until my vision begins to blur.
“Come for me, Cecilia. Come for me, amore,” he orders.
And I fall. A second climax bursts through me. My scream, this time, is hoarse and helpless. He covers my mouth with his own. The orgasm makes me lose all sense of my own body, but Alexander doesn’t let me go; his gaze holds me in place.
He hammers into me with a frenzied, final series of deep, brutal thrusts that shatter his last hold on control.
Alexander shudders violently above me as he pours himself into me. I feel the hot spurts of his release flooding inside me, pulsing in perfect rhythm with my own contractions. He fills me completely, marking me from the inside out, warm and full and overwhelmingly his.
For a long moment, all we can do is breathe, our bodies tangled together, our racing hearts beating wildly against one another.
Alexander lifts his head, and when he sees me, his features soften with concern. He kisses away each tear, as if tasting something precious. “Are they happy tears?” he asks, his voice soft.
I laugh, running my hand over his sweat-slicked shoulders.
“Happiness... and the aftermath of a mind-blowing orgasm.”
He releases my wrists, kissing every inch of them, and flashes that crooked, cocky smile that melts my chest.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
I shake my head. “I feel wonderful. Like I never have before.”
His grin widens, adorable and just the right amount of arrogant.
“Good. Because I intend to take my time making up for every second I was away. And rest assured, I’m not finished with you for the night.”
I arch a brow, teasing him. “No ‘four rounds with five-minute breaks’?”
He frowns, feigning offense, then laughs and shakes his head. He rolls to the side, pulling me to rest my head on his chest, his fingers idly playing with my hair.
“I’m not a boy anymore, Cecilia, trying to prove my virility with a scorecard.
I learned a long time ago that numbers are meaningless without intent.
I’m not interested in setting records; I’m interested in you.
In making sure that every time I touch you, you feel it in your soul. I prefer depth over speed.”
He brushes his lips against my forehead and adds, his voice thick with emotion: “You undo me, tesoro. Completely. And when I have you like this, I refuse to rush. I want to memorize every shiver, every sigh, until I know you better than you know yourself. I love you.”
“Ti amo,” I reply, snuggling deeper into him.
We linger there for a while, in a comfortable silence, existing in a bubble that belongs only to us. Then, he gives my thigh a firm squeeze and stands, sweeping me up into his arms.
“Where are we going?” I tease, laughing as my arms loop around his neck.
“I’m going to introduce you to the shower in my room,” he says, carrying me down the hall. “And finally indulge a fantasy that has been tormenting me since the first time I watched the water sliding down your body.”
“Oh really? And what would that be?”
A predatory smile curls his lips.
“Fucking you pinned to the marble wall... watching my cum run down your legs... and then cleaning every inch of you myself.”
I shiver, the anticipation already raising goosebumps on my skin and making my body ache all over again.
Alexander
“I missed your cooking,” Cecilia says, as she swipes a finger across the edge of the plate and brings it to her mouth… an innocent gesture that sends a jolt straight to my groin.
After finally making that shower fantasy a reality, I made us some carbonara while Cecilia checked in with Alicia, who’s at a sleepover at Felicity’s tonight.
Now we’re finishing dinner at the kitchen island. She’s wearing nothing but one of my shirts, and the fabric slips off her bare shoulder every time she moves.
She laughs and shakes her head. “Actually, I missed every little detail of you, Alexander. It borders on ridiculous.”
I set my fork down and hold her gaze.
“Ridiculous?” I repeat, arching a brow. “Ridiculous like barely listening during multi-million dollar meetings, watching the seconds tick by on the clock just to hear your voice for a few minutes? Just to see your face, even if it was through a screen?”
Cecilia stares at me, processing my confession.
I lean in, my voice dropping. “Or ridiculous like spending all these days making plans for us that I’m not even sure I should say out loud yet, for fear you’ll run for the hills?”
She slides off the stool. The hem of the shirt rides up dangerously high on her thighs, teasing me with every step as she circles the island to get to me. I push my chair back and she claims her spot on my lap, her bare legs wrapping around my waist, her arms looping around my neck.
“Alexander...” she whispers, before pressing her lips to mine.
The kiss deepens, and I’m ready to take her to my room, but she places her hands on my shoulders and pulls back, her breathing uneven.
“We need to have that conversation,” she says. Her voice is firm, but her pupils are blown wide, betraying the desire she’s trying to suppress.
I take a breath and kiss her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally, I press a light, quick kiss to her lips.
“You’re right. I’ll clear the table, and then we’ll talk.”
Cecilia moves to stand. “I can hel—”
“No,” I interrupt gently. I take her wine glass, top it off, and place it back in her hand. “Go to the couch. Wait for me there. I’ll take care of this.”
She smiles, steals one last quick kiss, and does as I ask, walking toward the living room with the hem of my shirt swaying around her bare legs. That view alone is enough motivation to make me load the dishwasher in record time.
Minutes later, I find her curled into the corner of the couch, one leg tucked beneath her, the wine glass resting on her knee.
I sit beside her, angling my body to face her fully. I take her free hand, lacing our fingers together.
“Before we start this conversation, tesoro, let’s make one thing clear,” I say, my tone leaving no room for doubt.
She nods, her eyes staying on mine.
“I’ll do whatever it takes for you. To be with you. I don’t care about the distance or what stands in our way—I’ll handle it. I’m not letting anything keep us apart.”
Cecilia squeezes my hand. “And I want you, Alexander. In any way I can have you.”
“Good,” I say, feeling a knot loosen from my shoulders. “Then, can I start preparing my move to New York?”
When she opens them again, I see the concern pushing through her relief.
“Alexander... your family...”