36. Astor
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ASTOR
O nce we get to the top of the mountain, I park my car at the edge and Alessia impatiently climbs out.
“Oh my God. This is fucking?—”
“ Alessia …”
“What? This view deserves some curse words...” I shake my head and yank her towards me.
“Remember what I told you would happen if you cursed at me again?” She leans her head back and smirks.
“But I didn’t curse at you.”
“Ehh, semantics.” I walk her backwards until the back of her knees touch the car and I push her back on the hood. “Lay back.”
“But I thought we came for the view?” she asks as she leans backwards, I lift her leg and I curse under my breath when I get a clear view of her bare pussy.
“You wanted to see the view from up here and I want to see the view down here. Now open those fucking legs.” She flinches when I slap her pussy lips and her legs fall to each side of her. “Good girl,” I praise before I run my tongue through her folds.
Her back arches as I dig my tongue further into her pussy. I take my hand and push her back flat against the hood of the car. When she moans, I feel the already hard bulge in my pants become rock solid. My dick eager to feel the inside of her. She pushes her hands through my hair and tugs, making me let out a feral groan. I need to get her there and quickly, because I can’t take not feeling her much longer. After her little show at the club, I’m stuck between wanting to punish her and wanting to fuck her so hard that she begs me to punish her instead. She knew what she was doing tonight, but I didn’t expect anything less.
“Astor, please. I need to come,” she says when I pull away from her. I chuckle and hover over her.
“Do you deserve to come?” I slap her pussy again and she throws her head back. “Answer me, little devil. Do you deserve to come?”
“Please,” she begs again. I push my finger inside of her and she lets out a gasp. Adding another finger will just send her over the edge, so I refrain from it, even though it’s what I need.
“The next time I say not to bend over, you’ll listen. The next time I say to stop cursing, you’ll stop cursing. Understand?” I whisper into her ear, lining myself up with her entrance.
“Just fuck—” I slam myself into her before she can finish her sentence.
“That fucking mouth on you,” I say as I push my way in and out of her, faster and harder. She wraps her legs around me and I feel her hands under my shirt then her nails in my back. “Taming you will never happen, huh?”
“I don’t need to be tamed,” she moans as I thrust in and out of her.
“Mmm, I beg to differ.”
“I need to be loved; exactly how I am.” I increase my speed, pulling out of her long enough to stand us up and bend her over the hood of the car.
I kick her legs open and slap her ass, yanking her back by her hair.
“Just fuck me, Astor. Please.” My dick slides in and I wrap my hands around her throat as she meets me thrust for thrust.
“What if I don’t want to fuck you, what if I want to love you?” She stills and I turn her around to face me, sitting her on the hood of the car and inserting my dick back into her. She tries to avoid my gaze, but I grasp her chin between my fingers and force her to meet my stare. “It’s inevitable, I don’t want to fight it. You shouldn’t, either.” She glances down at where my dick meets her pussy and her lip tips up a fraction.
“Fuck it,” she groans as I lift her up, fucking her into her orgasm.
Fuck it is right. She’s mine. I love her. And I need to make sure she knows that before her secret blows up in our face.
We’re back in New York before we know it. Alessia hasn’t addressed what happened last night on the mountain and neither have I. We’ve barely had time to ourselves since we landed in New York. Her parents and mine have been hovering us, her father is growing increasingly worried that she’ll remember something before the wedding.
“Sweetheart, are you feeling ok?” Eleanor asks Alessia. She smiles at her mom and nods.
“I’m fine. It was nothing.”
“You’ve fainted a few times, are you that stressed? Is it the wedding?”
“I don’t know, maybe. I guess we’ll find out in three days,” she says, smirking. I bend down and kiss her forehead. Our mothers smile at each other and start reviewing, for what feels like the twentieth time today, each detail of the wedding. I find my father and Ander in the den; they both have a drink in their hand and I’m not one bit surprised when Ander turns to me and launches his fist at my face.