10. Alexandria
CHAPTER TEN
alexandria
My back meets the mattress, and I slide up until I’m lying in the middle as Dante stands at the food of the bed.
His dark eyes are locked on mine as his hands move with a deliberate, agonizing slowness.
Slowly, deliberately, he unbuttons his dress shirt, one button after the other, as his fingers work methodically, until it hangs open, showing his solid muscular chest. My fingers desperately want to trace every hard, cut line of his body.
I sit up, grasp the hem of my tank top, and pull it over my head. We undress ourselves piece by piece until he’s standing in nothing but a pair of tight-fitting boxers and I’m in my lace G-string panties. My thumbs hook into the top, just about to strip out of them, when I think better of it.
“I want to be on top this time.” I get up on my knees, moving closer until my hands land on his shoulders. He grips my hips. “I want to taste you.”
“Whatever you want. I’m all yours, wife.
” He enunciates wife much like he always does, and I watch as Dante’s eyes flash with a flare of heat, a mischievous smirk pulling at his lips.
We switch places. His back is to the headboard, his body stretched out, and he props his left leg up with his knee bent, one arm casually draped over his knee while the other wraps around his long, thick length, slowly tugging at it with up-and-down motions.
I don’t climb straight into his lap. I sink to my hands and knees at the bottom of the bed, my dark hair tumbling over my shoulders, then crawl up between his legs, my hands sliding along the warm skin of his calves, up his thick thighs, feeling him flex his muscles as he lets out a light hiss of air.
I look from where he’s working his length to where my nails are sinking into his skin, more than likely marking him again.
And instead of being appalled, I’m infatuated with the idea that he’s wearing something of me on him.
“Alexandria,” he rasps, saying my name in that slow, seductive drawl.
My core clenches, greedy to feel him, all of him.
It’s not until I’m seated in the middle of his spread legs that I move my hands.
I trace the mushroom-shaped head with the tip of my finger, rounding it in a circle.
Precum gathers, and I draw it from his cock to my mouth, sucking the digit between my lips with a moan.
“Fuck,” he groans, eyes going hooded and tongue slipping out to lick his full lush lips.
He let’s go of his length, and I wrap one hand around his thick shaft, feeling the searing heat radiating off his skin.
I lean down, bringing my lips where my finger only traced moments ago.
I flick my tongue over the bead of moisture, tasting him directly from the source.
A sudden hazy flash of a memory hits me—bright, blinding chapel lights in Vegas, the neon glow of the strip filtering through the open curtains, the taste of champagne on my tongue, and my mouth wrapped around him while he growls into the semi-dark room.
It’s fuzzy, blurred around the edges by alcohol and inhibitions, but the taste…
the taste is identical, and I definitely remember wanting this even then.
“You remember, don’t you?” Dante rumbles. His hand reaches out to gather my wild hair, holding the curls away from my face so they won’t get in the way of him watching me work his cock. “You remember taking my cock in your mouth, don’t you, wife?”
“Shut up.” I pull back, blowing air along his shaft before opening my mouth wide and sliding my lips over his head, swallowing him inch by inch. His hand tightens in my hair, not pulling but guiding as his thumb strokes the base of my neck.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he praises me in a dirty, raspy whisper.
His eyes watch me with a ravenous, intense focus as I take him to the back of my throat.
“Look at you, taking every fucking inch of me. Suck me, Alexandria, take all of your husband.” Dante’s voice comes out with a deep vibration that I swear I can feel in every inch of my body.
I swirl my tongue around his head, working my mouth up and down his shaft, while my hand works the base in sync with my lips. Every time I take him to the back of my throat, he lets out a rough, ragged sigh, his hips lift of the bed, and his hand in the sheets is gripping the fabric taut.
My body shifts, my bare breasts dragging against the cool, soft bed. The friction sends a sharp wave of heat straight to my pussy. My thighs clench, my inner walls pulsing with a deep throb. I’m dripping wet, aching, and so ridiculously needy for him, but I refuse to speed this up.
I want to drown in him.
“That’s it, wife, just like that.” His guidance, his praise, him touching every place on my body he can reach nearly has me crying out around his cock. “Work me with your mouth. You have no fucking idea what you do to me when you look up at me like that.”
I keep my eyes locked on his, sucking harder, swallowing him deep. I don’t stop even as his breathing turns uneven and shallow gasps leave his chest. His leg is no longer propped up, and his muscles struggle hard as he fights for control.
“Alexandria— Fuck, stop,” Dante snaps. His hips lift off the bed as his hands suddenly shoot out, grabbing my shoulder. “I’m going to blow my load down your throat if you keep doing that.”
“Dante!” I gasp. Before I can swallow his dick one last time, Dante pulls me off his length. My mouth is suddenly empty as he hauls me up his body, dragging my wet, aching center right along his thick shaft.
“Not yet, wife.” His amber eyes burn with an unholy, possessive fire as he grips my hips, positioning my soaked pussy right over the head of his cock. “You said you want to be on top. Ride me.”