Chapter 8 #2
There’s something so incredibly sexy about the way he’s looking at me. Like sucking my dick is the only way to bring him back to some form of reality he’s happy with.
I can’t resist.
All I can do is tilt my head back when he takes the head of my cock into his mouth.
I try to be quiet. Knowing that Rosalie is in the other room, just a thin wall and door separating us.
Another part of me doesn’t give a damn.
I’ve never felt so aroused in my life.
“Ahh, shit,” I mumble out, groaning softly as Alessio works my hard length with his mouth, up and down. His tongue swirls around the tip each time he comes up.
I start to rock my hips up against his mouth, and he moans in response, sending a tingle of pleasure down my cock into my balls and up into my stomach.
It’s been…way too long, maybe forever, since I felt something so fucking magical.
I need to watch him.
I force myself to look down at him as he blows me. His hair is bouncing around his head, and he’s looking up at me with wet beautiful eyes. Those eyes grow darker as he gets more into the task at hand.
The man uses his other hand to gently squeeze my balls and I about lose it right here and now.
The pressure is building so much quicker than I’m used to. The need and the orgasm all mixing together into one electric hot feeling of pleasure.
“F-Fuck…Alessio,” I hiss under my breath as my thighs tense and my hips buck up into his mouth, once, then twice…and a third time.
I come into his mouth and down his throat, and he takes it like I’ve never seen before. He swallows around my dick and I shiver hard.
Alessio swallows every drop, and when he’s done, he licks up and down my length like he’s searching for more.
My head is so dizzy I can hardly lift my head to look up at him as he stands.
I try.
I try, and what I see is a man standing before me with his own pajama bottoms tenting and a wet spot forming at the tip of his length in the fabric.
“Let me help you,” I growl out, low and quiet.
Alessio climbs into my lap and smashes his mouth against mine.
“Take me, however you want me,” he insists.
If he hadn’t just sucked the life out of me, I might have turned him over and done exactly what I wanted to do, but there are limited options now.
Not to mention, we need to be quiet. Quick.
So, I turn Alessio around on my lap until his back is pressed against my chest. One hand slides up his shirt and I gently pluck at one of his nipples. He moans softly and turns his head against my own. Trying to hide his reaction in my hair. Though my hair gives much less to hide in than his.
My other hand slides into his bottoms and I immediately brush my thumb against the tip of his cock, feeling the precum there and I use it to my advantage. I smear it along the length of his hard-on and then start to stroke him slow but rough.
“A-Ah…yes,” Alessio hums under his breath. His hips begin to grind against my hand and I keep up with the movement. Wanting to do what makes him feel good. What he wants me to do. Nothing more, nothing less.
The room is already so warm, and the air is moist around us. It smells like sex. That is undeniable.
It’s simply irresistible.
“That’s it…” I whisper into Alessio’s ear. “Let it go…”
Alessio whimpers, and it’s a sound that makes my own length twitch alive once more. I grunt softly and squeeze his length just a bit tighter. I feel him pulsing in my hand. Throbbing. Aching.
His breath hitches and I know he’s close.
I go just a little bit faster, not changing the pace too much, just enough to urge him over the edge.
“Please…don’t stop, ohh,” Alessio gasps, just a little too loud.
The sound makes me growl down into his shoulder and I pinch his nipple harder.
Alessio’s body goes rigid against my own, and he comes in several quick bursts of wet stickiness against the inside of his sweatpants and my fingers.
We’re both panting for breath when he’s done.
We sit here like this—him in my lap, catching his breath, and my fingers gently circling his pecs—for a while. I’m not sure how long. Which is unusual for me. I’m usually so focused on the clock. When I finally glance over at it, it’s blurry and I can’t quite tell what time it is.
For the first time in a long time, I decide… it doesn’t matter.
My head is fuzzy and my body feels…good. So good. Like I could fall asleep right here and now.
It only takes a few more minutes, though, for clarity to break though, and I realize that we are in a very precarious position.
“Feel better?” I whisper to Alessio.
He turns his head to look into my eyes, and I swear…my heart leaps into my throat.
“Much better,” he whispers back to me.
His eyelashes brush my cheek before he finally slides out of my lap.
“I call shower first,” he says casually.
The way he walks, though, his knees are obviously a bit weak, and I can’t help but smirk.
I lean back further on the couch and rake my fingers through my hair as I watch him head into the bathroom and hear the shower turn on.
I can’t believe I just did that.
I can’t believe I did that.
After Alessio showered and disappeared back into the bedroom, all I’ve been able to do is sit awake and wonder what this means now. It can’t mean anything, obviously. The man is married to Rosalie and they’re about to have their very public ceremony in just under twelve hours.
Still, I find myself wondering… What the hell just happened?
Alessio crying. Alessio freaking out over his father and then…
He gets me off and I get him off. That should be normal to me, after all it’s not the first time I’ve had sex with someone because they needed a distraction from their shitty life.
For some odd reason, I can’t get this specific time out of my head.
Guilt.
I realize as the sun begins to pop up over the horizon that what I’m feeling is guilt. I’m supposed to be working for these people, not fucking them.
More importantly, I’m supposed to be protecting Rosalie, and finding out information about Alessio, not watching him suck my dick on his knees and…
I swallow hard. It’s difficult not to fall right back into arousal when I imagine what happened just hours ago.
Before Alessio and Rosalie get out of bed, before we have to leave for the cathedral, I hop in the shower myself.
The hot water running down my muscular body helps ease some of the tenson I’m feeling, but it also reminds me of how warm Alessio’s body was. How hard and throbbing his length had been in my hand.
I rinse the shampoo out of my hair, and as I do so, I realize that Alessio and I will smell the same today. Same soap, same shampoo…same scent.
I quickly finish my shower and get dressed in my all-black suit, ready to take on the day. Ready to forget about what happened.
Though, the guilt still tumbles around in my stomach like a hard rock.
I glance at the clock.
Seven-forty-two.
Rosalie gets up first. She heads to the shower, but she’s carrying a small bag of toiletries that were brought over for her.
I debate briefly if she might know about what happened between me and her husband. If she would even really care.
That’s bullshit.
I’m only trying to tell myself she wouldn’t care so that I can avoid the guilt.
I close my eyes, trying to will myself to some other place. Some imaginary place where the sky is blue, the air is hot, and the breeze smells salty and sweet.
However, I hear the floor creak and my eyes open to see Alessio standing there in a pair of snuggly fitting jeans and V-neck t-shirt, his hair pulled up loosely behind his head.
He glances at me before hauling his bag of clothing onto the counter and putting his coat on.
“Rosalie’s in the shower,” I remind him. Who knows how long that will take.
“I’m aware,” Alessio mumbles. His words snippy.
Perhaps he’s feeling the same guilt that I am. If anything, he should feel more guilt than me. I’m just working for the family; he belongs to it.
“Very well.” I sit on the couch, waiting for Rosalie to be done in the shower. Not putting my coat on until I hear the water turn off.
She steps out wrapped in a towel, dripping all over the floor holding her bag of toiletries and glares at us.
“Just give me a minute,” she says, clearly sensing that Alessio wants to get going.
Rosalie disappears into the bedroom, and when she steps back out, she’s wearing an outfit very similar to Alessio’s, but her shirt is long-sleeved, and her hair is still damp and hanging around her head.
“Have we gotten any news on who shot at us?” Rosalie asks curiously.
I shake my head. “I haven’t heard anything. We should hear something as soon as we get to the cathedral.”
She sighs. “Great. So, who knows if today will be another shoot out.”
Alessio rolls his eyes. “Maybe we should just cancel, reschedule? Or would Eivor rather risk it?”
I watch Rosalie grit her teeth. “My uncle is doing his best.”
Alessio looks like he’s biting his tongue. “Let’s just go.”
Rosalie puts on her coat and they both grab their bags of clean and dirty clothing that were brought over a couple days before.
“Me first,” I insist, stepping toward the door. I need to check the perimeter.
I glance down the hallway, and see all of the doors closed, and no one else in the hallway. I take the stairs first, and once outside, I make a circle around the building before I wave the two of them out to my car.
Rosalie sits in the front, Alessio in the back.
As we drive toward the cathedral, I look into the rearview mirror and lock eyes with Alessio for a moment. His eyes are dark and unforgiving. A look I haven’t seen from him before, but is it me he doesn’t forgive, or himself?