Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
IMOGEN
When I try to open my eyes, it’s like they have tiny weights on them. It’s dark outside, which I guess means I’ve been asleep for a while. I stay still, assessing how I feel after the fall. My head is more fuzzy than achy, and my chin doesn’t feel too sore. No doubt as the bruise develops, though, it’ll hurt for a while.
An ache in my lower back forces me to shift my position, and as I do, my butt connects with something hard. I glance over my shoulder. Alexander’s amber eyes stare back at me, his hand tightening on my hip.
“You stayed.” Talk about stating the obvious. Maybe that bang on the head is worse than the doctor first thought.
“You asked me to stay.”
“Only until I fell asleep.”
“Are you saying you wish I wasn’t here?” His voice is sleepy, as though he’s taken a nap, too.
“No.”
“Good. How do you feel? ”
“Okay. No lasting damage.”
“Any headaches?”
“No, doctor.”
He chuckles, the vibration rippling against my back. His hand snakes from my hip to my belly, and he burrows underneath my T-shirt, cupping my breast through my cotton bra.
My stomach tilts, low-lying muscles tightening as he brushes my nipple. “Alexander?”
“Yes, wife.”
A shudder runs through me. There’s something about the possessiveness in his voice when he calls me his wife that does funny things to me. Nice things. Exciting things. But I can’t let myself fall for him. Not until he holds up his end of the bargain. It’s not in my nature to only be a wife. Plenty do it, and I’m not yukking on someone else’s yum, but I know that’s not the life I want for myself.
“Did you talk to Christian about the job?”
“I mentioned it, yes. He’s looking into it. I haven’t had the chance to speak with him yet.”
“But you will?”
He nuzzles my neck. “Yes, wife, I will.”
“Okay.” I close my eyes, my skin tingling from his attention. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Go for it.”
“Am I… I mean… Are you… Are you ever going to…?” The words crawl to the tip of my tongue, but they won’t come out. It’s so annoying. I hope to God that once we’ve done it, this stupid embarrassment disappears.
“Finish the sentence.” He presses light kisses to my shoulder. A rash of goosebumps pepper my skin. “Say it.” When I’m silent, he grinds out, “Say it, Imogen.”
The words fall out on an exhale. “Sleep with me. ”
He rolls me onto my back and looms over me, his eyes glittering. Dangerous. Irresistible.
“Is that what you want?”
I rub my lips between my teeth and nod.
“Use your words. If you want something, ask for it. Demand it. Be direct.”
My face gets hot, as though I’ve taken a vacation on the surface of the sun. In fact, my entire body is on fire. “I want you. I mean I want your…” I motion to his groin area, and he chuckles.
“Where do you want it?”
“You know where.”
“I don’t know anything. Not unless you tell me. You have three holes. Which one do you want me to fuck first?”
I’m visibly sweating now, even though the room is on the cool side. He’s so comfortable with dirty talk, but I can’t even say “dick” without my insides burning like a chili.
Unable to meet his eyes, I turn away. He presses a fingertip to my cheek and forces me to look at him once more.
“Imogen.”
Covering my face with my hands, I mutter, “I can’t.”
He straddles me and grips my wrists, pulling my hands apart. “Look at me.”
I shake my head, squeezing my eyes closed.
“ Look at me .”
The command in his voice is impossible to resist. I slowly meet his gaze.
“Tell me.”
“Why?” I wail. “Why can’t you just do it? Why are you making this so hard ? ”
He’s punishing me for some sin I’m not aware I committed; he must be.
Moving closer, he runs the tip of his nose down mine, breathing in deeply. “Because, my sweet, innocent little pawn, I don’t know your body yet. I can’t read the cues. And while many men in my position wouldn’t ask, they’d only take, I’m not one of them. I’m an immoral man in lots of ways, but not this. Not with you. Your first time should be special. Memorable. I intend to make sure it is.”
His words turn my insides to mush. He’s not punishing me, he’s empowering me.
Gathering every ounce of courage, I force myself to lock eyes with him. “I want to lose my virginity to you. I want you to fuck me there.” I point at myself.
He chuckles. “Better. We’ll work on your dirty talk.”
I’m not sure it’s something that’ll ever come naturally to me, but I’m not about to start a discussion when the ache that’s been inside me for so long might soon be gone. The heaviness between my legs is a constant pressure, a torture I can’t wait to rid myself of.
He undresses me, taking his time about it. When I attempt to help, as I did that night in the stables, he tuts and wags his finger. Seeing a lighter side to him is intoxicating, and I hope after we’ve connected in the most intimate way a couple can, he’ll show me this side of him more often.
My panties are the last to go. He drops them beside the bed on top of the rest of my clothes. Running his palm from my neck to my abdomen, he lets out a contented sigh.
“I could stare at your body for hours.” He cups both my breasts, pushing them together. “Fucking these is going on the list. ”
Another flush of heat warms my body. He’s cooking me from the inside out with his words alone.
Bending his head, he captures one nipple in his mouth and sucks. My back arches.
“God,” I breathe.
“No, sweet girl. The Devil.” He flashes me a smile loaded with wicked intent before sucking on the other nipple.
I need him. I need to have my first experience of sex done, over with, but Alexander is taking his time. He hasn’t even undressed yet. I reach down and pop the button on his jeans, but I don’t get as far as unzipping him. He stops what he’s doing and sits up.
“Hmm, are restraints needed, Little Pawn?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. Striding into the bathroom, he returns with a belt from my robe.
Breathless at the idea of him tying me up, yet frustrated at the lack of control, I shake my head. “You said you were going to… fuck me.”
“And I am.” He straddles me again, locking my legs in place. “You say the word, and I’ll remove these. Understand?”
When I nod, he wraps the belt around one wrist, then captures the other and loops it around there, too. Within seconds, my arms are over my head, fastened to the headboard.
“When?”
He smiles at my impatience. I growl in frustration, and his smile widens.
“My, my, what a demanding little pawn.” He kisses me, but it’s not enough to douse the flames. “It’s your first time, Imogen. If you’re not well prepared, it’ll hurt more than it needs to.”
“What if I want it to hurt?” I don’t. I hate pain, but I hate this interminable waiting more.
He cants his head. “Do you? Is that what you want? For me to shove my dick inside you before you’re ready?”
“I am ready.”
He scoots down the bed, pushing my legs as wide as they’ll go. If I wasn’t so desperate for him to get on with it, I’d be embarrassed, especially with the way he’s staring at my most intimate parts as though it’s a delicious meal, and he hasn’t eaten in a week.
“Let’s see.” He runs two fingers through my folds. When he withdraws, they’re glistening with my arousal. Sliding first one, then the second into his mouth, he cleans them. It’s erotic and dirty, and I want him to do it again. I’d pay him to do it again, not that he needs the money.
Focus, Imogen.
“I told you I was ready.”
The shock when he thrusts two fingers inside me pushes the air from my lungs. I cry out at both the unexpected intrusion and the sting.
“My dick is a lot bigger, Imogen. You want to reconsider your position?”
Sassy me makes a momentary comeback by replying with, “You’re an asshole.”
Alexander throws back his head and laughs, and it’s such a rare and glorious sight that I can’t stop staring.
“There’s my wife.” This time, when he eases his fingers out of me, he presses them to my lips. “Suck.”
I open for him, rolling my tongue around them, tasting the sweet, faintly musky smell of my arousal. He expels a soft breath, his eyes momentarily closing .
“That feels good.”
Removing his fingers, his large hands cup my cheeks, and his expression turns from teasing to serious. “Let me take care of you. I want to make this good for you. Don’t fight me.”
I don’t know why, but a rush of tears fill my eyes. There’s a lot about Alexander that’s detached and, yes, sometimes unfeeling or thoughtless, yet he says things like that. He takes care of me with tenderness. He puts me and my comfort first. He’s a dichotomy I haven’t yet figured out, and I’m not sure I ever will.
“Okay.”
He takes my lips, exploring me at his leisure. Every time he’s kissed me, it’s different, yet each one curls my toes and liquifies my insides. His tongue strokes mine, curling, probing, demanding both my submission and my participation. Our breaths intermingle until I’m not sure where he ends and I begin.
Warm hands caress my skin, skimming over my ribcage, cupping my breasts, and he keeps on kissing me. I lose track of time, lost in him, in the tingles all over my body, the fluttering in my stomach, the heavy ache between my legs. The desperate yearning for release. He’s treating me as though I’m a queen, a goddess, someone important in his life. It’s heady, unexpected, and addictive.
He breaks our kiss and slides down my body, and when I open my eyes and meet his, I draw in a breath. The lust and naked desire in his amber irises almost make me come with no direct stimulation.
“Let’s see, now, shall we?” He hums against my pussy, kissing me there, tonguing me there .
I raise my pelvis, greedy for more. Shivers rack my body, a soft moan falling from my lips. He plants a large hand on my abdomen, pushing me flat to the mattress.
“Still, or I’ll strap down your lower half, too.”
Splaying me open with his thumbs, he licks and nips at me, and with every swipe of his tongue, my body sings. A swell starts in my belly, but it’s not like last time he made me come. It’s different, bigger. More. He hums again, circling my clit with his tongue.
“Alexander… I… I… oh, God.” My entire body tenses, then relaxes, and something gushes out of me. Whatever it is soaks him and the bedsheets.
Oh, no… Oh, God, please no. Did I…? Did I just… pee myself?
If I thought I was embarrassed before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. I tug on my restraints.
“Let me go. Please. Untie me.”
I can’t look at him. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to face him again. My original plan is back on, except this time it’s nothing to do with feeling trapped in a marriage I didn’t ask for, and everything to do with the fact I peed on a De Vil, and not just any De Vil. Alexander. My husband.
Is what I did a hanging offense in their circles? Probably.
“—okay. Imogen? Can you hear me? It’s okay. You’re okay.”
I shake my head, pulling on my restraints again. Except my arms are free. He must have untied me. I need out of here. I need space. Privacy. Time alone to come to terms with how mortified I am. But when I try to move, I can’t. A man mountain is pinning me down.
“Let me go.” I shove at his chest, but it’s like trying to move granite. “Please.” I hiccup, and only then do I realize I have tears streaming down my face.
“Shh.”
As though I weigh nothing more than a feather, he lifts me into his lap, holding me tightly enough that I can’t escape, but not so tight that I feel trapped. He strokes my hair and rocks me like I’m a baby. Given I peed myself, I may as well be.
I bury my face in his neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what? For squirting? Don’t apologize for that. You rocked my fucking world.”
Squirting? I risk a quick peek at him. He’s smiling wide enough to split his face apart.
“What’s that?”
“It’s when a female ejaculates.”
If I thought I’d reached the pinnacle of embarrassment, Alexander proved me wrong. My face gets so hot, you could fry an egg on my cheeks.
“Hey.” He kisses my forehead. “It’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s… Jesus, Imogen. For the man, it’s a hell of a turn on.”
“It is?”
“Yes. It is.”
I tuck my chin into my chest. “I thought I’d peed on you.”
He lets out that laugh again. It’s animated and heartfelt, and I can’t get enough. “You didn’t pee on me. And even if you had, I wouldn’t care.”
“You wouldn’t care if I peed on you?”
“No.” He presses his lips to mine, and I throw my arms around him, refusing to let go, urging him to kiss me harder, deeper. A groan rumbles through his chest, and he shifts me until I’m astride him. The bulge in his jeans presses against my clit. It wouldn’t take much for me to come again.
Gripping the hem of his shirt, he pulls it over his head and tosses it behind him.
“Unzip me.”
His throaty voice does things to me I can’t explain. I’m consumed with an urge to please him, to care for him the way he’s cared for me. I pull down his zipper and reach into his boxers before pulling out his dick. The skin is softer than I thought it would be, like a steel rod encased in a satin sheath. I wrap my hand around the base, wonder causing me to stare.
He hisses through his teeth.
“Does that hurt?”
“No. It’s fucking incredible.” Somehow, he keeps me astride him and still manages to remove his jeans and boxers. “That’s better.” He clasps my hips and lifts me. “Ready?”
I nod.
“Keep holding it like that, okay? Don’t move.”
I thought he’d slowly lower me down, letting me adjust at my own pace. Instead, he thrusts up while slamming me down, impaling me in one fast move. A stabbing pain shoots through me, and I shriek.
“Easy. That’s it, sweet girl. Breath for me. Hard part’s over.”
He cradles my head and kisses me until my spine relaxes and I sink against him. He starts to move slowly, each stroke easing the sharp pain of penetration. After a few seconds of intense burning, the agony recedes, shifting into an unbelievable pleasure.
“Good girl.” Cradling my head, he kisses me, his tongue mirroring the movement of his hips. I’m a passenger as he lifts and lowers me, but soon I’m flying solo, instinct taking over. I grip onto his shoulders for balance, obeying his demand to look into his eyes.
He’s gone, a sheen of lust covering his irises, sweat dotted across his brow, and his hair damp at the ends where it brushes the base of his neck.
“God. God.”
He lifts me off him, slipping out, then lays me on my back. The tip of him nudges at me, sliding back inside easier this time, although the sting is there still, the stretching, the dull ache.
“That’s it. Good girl. Put your legs around my waist.”
I do, and he thrusts deeper, his hips moving wildly now, the base of his dick grazing my clit with every push forward.
“Come for me again, my good little girl.” He slides a hand between our bodies and homes in on my clit. “Squirt all over my dick.”
If I knew how I’d done it, I would, especially as he seems so turned on by it, but it happened to me, not by me.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Relax. Let your body guide you.” He strums my clit and kisses me again, and that same swell spreads through me. “I’m close, Imogen. Do you want my cum to fill your sweet cunt?”
He’s got the dirty talk down to a fine art. My body explodes, and that same gushing sensation charges through me. His head falls onto my shoulder as I pulse and shudder. He thrusts once, twice, a third time, then grunts, but apart from that, he’s silent. Still. His breath is hot on my neck, his tongue flicking out to taste my sweat.
“Fucking perfect,” he mutters against my ear. “You’re fucking perfect.”
“I made a mess,” I whisper .
“And what a beautiful mess it is.” He pulls out of me, and although he’s gentle, I hiss at the sting. I bring my legs together, but he pushes them apart and shimmy’s down the bed.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
With his head between my legs, he grins up at me. “Cleaning up my mess and yours.”