Chapter 14 #2
“No, no! It’s not that, it’s-holy shit, Alex.” I reach for him to come to me, and he does. Stooping down to hover over my naked body, I slide my arms around his neck. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” Good lord, I want him so bad. The affection I have towards him surges.
He kisses me, then demands again, “Get dressed.” I make a fake pouting face, and he leaves me to use the bathroom.
I slowly roll off the bed, my limbs languid and lazy.
“Where are we going?” I call out to him. It’s not exactly late, but it is nine o’clock already.
His head pokes out around the door while he washes his hands.
“Home.” Oh.
Throwing on a sports bra, a pair of leggings, and a long-sleeve thermal, I ask, “Do I need to bring anything?” When he walks back into my bedroom, he’s fully dressed and ready to go.
“I’d say bring everything.” We’re really just going to skip dating and everything in between and go back to being married people who live together?
“Hold on,” I grab his arm to stop him from going to my closet.
“Maybe we should start slow. Maybe we should have that date that never happened…” I trail off, remembering the searing pain when he said what he’d done that night.
He went to the ridge with no plans to come back.
I hated every second, every word. He came home, though, and I told him I hated him. I hate myself for that.
“Em,” He inhales deeply, holding my chin in his hand. “I don’t know how to be normal and just date. But I do know that being with you is easier than breathing.” His exhale is shaky.
“I don’t fall in love with anyone, Em, but I did with you. I think about all the things that had to happen that night for me to find you.” He places a soft kiss on my lips. “It wasn’t an accident.”
“It wasn’t,” I whisper back because I’ve thought about it a hundred times. For whatever reason, I was supposed to meet Alexander Palomino that morning. I don’t know if it was fate, or destiny, but it wasn’t an accident. I know that.
“I was somewhere I didn’t want to be, and something told me to get up and leave. And it told me to keep going and not stop until there was you. And you were perfect. In every way. You are perfect, Emma.” The air leaves my lungs with a gasp.
“I love you, Alex,” I say it for the first time, officially, and there’s tears in his eyes.
“But I’m scared.” I’m nervous that this is temporary, which might be okay.
Except that my temporary is months or years, Alex’s is an hour.
Could I accept that, knowing how fleeting this probably is? Do I even have a choice?
I could say no, but all he would have to do is touch me, and I would be back to yes.
“I might hurt you, but you could hurt me too, so I guess we have to decide to take that chance together?” He’s not perfect, but neither am I.
“Promise me, if you ever stop wanting this, you’ll just tell me?” I ask him, fear lacing each word.
“I promise,” he says back with conviction. And I believe him. At this moment, I wholeheartedly believe that he believes that, too.
I wake up with a hand furled around my curly hair, a leg draped over my hip, and the deepest burn between my thighs. And we’re in his room. Not mine.
The fist seems to tighten, and the leg grips me tighter, sending his thick length deeper into my backside. Oh god, it hadn’t been a dream.
My greedy body angles my hips higher, and a hand comes down to my abdomen, holding me in place.
More. I want to moan; I want to arch my back, driving his length deeper.
“Emma,” his voice is hoarse and strained.
“Alexander,” I say back, my tone mirroring his.
“Can you tell me what my little wife wants?” Little wife. The hand on my abdomen grips and tightens before releasing me.
This time, I’m not noble enough to stop. I want to feel the weight of him on top of me; I want him feasting on me, claiming me, and I want it now.
I pull his hand down, easing it between my legs, and he exhales slowly, the hot air skirting over the side of my face.
“God, you’re beautiful, Em,” he says as his hand dips lower, gliding against my bare skin.
My nipples pull taught as I look down to watch his large hand dip between my thighs, forcing them open.
He lifts his leg off mine and hitches it higher so he can reach me, sending his dick sliding between my legs in turn. But he doesn’t try to enter me. Instead, he slides a thick finger between my lips, finding me hot and wet for him. Am I really going to let him fuck me?
“Alex…” I say softly, and he moves the finger down, swirling around my entrance before coming to rest the finger over my clit. God, I want to buck against that finger. I want to praise it for existing, then ride it into tomorrow.
“Yeah?” he asks, his face pressing into the curls at the back of my head.
“I’ve never…been with anyone…before.” The hand between my thighs disappears, and I freeze with embarrassment, rolling my eyes up to keep from looking stupidly at the absence.
“How do you mean?” He asks while holding his hand away from my body.
“I mean, technically, I’m a virgin.” I hate that word and what it implies. Hate that I’m a 26-year-old virgin because I’ve been waiting for the right person, and they haven’t come. They don’t want me. They aren’t dreaming about me like I am about them.
When he doesn’t say anything, I start to scoot away from him. Giving him an exit, but his hand is back on my hip, holding me close to him.
“You’ve never…” Oh god, he’s going to make me spell it out.
“I’ve never had sex with anyone. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Jesus, Emma. I-I don’t know.” I sigh because here it comes. Well, maybe we shouldn’t do anything then. Like I’m fucking diseased or a toss away. “Just tell me what you’re comfortable with, then.” This time, I freeze.
“You’re not…weirded out by that?” I ask, hopeful.
“Are you kidding?” His dick pulses, twitching between my thighs. “I fucking love that it’s gonna be me. Only me.” My chest burns at the possessiveness in his voice.
He scoots back, rolling me onto my back so he can look at me. But I don’t want to.
The tears are coming in, my cheeks hot with embarrassment.
“Do you want to have sex right now, Emma?” I nod because I did. I do. But suddenly, I’m scared to death I’ll look stupid and won’t know what I’m doing. I was never even brave enough to use anything besides my fingers on myself.
“You’re fucking perfect, Emma,” Alex says as he pulls me into his side, then moves over the top of me, peppering kisses across my body, starting with my chest.
Then they’re on my abdomen and then my clit. “Relax, baby.” I hadn’t realized how rigid I was, knowing what’s coming.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to…” I tell him as he prepares to go down on me. Again.
“Shut up, Em. This isn’t a fucking chore,” he looks at me, “it’s a privilege.” He spreads open my lips and sucks, sending my hips off the bed. He puts a palm on my stomach to hold me down, and with his other hand, he starts to slide a finger in. Yes, fucking, please.
The longing for the feeling of fullness there is overwhelming. I want his fingers slamming against me. I want his cock thrusting in me. I want to be fucked like I’ve watched others be for years.
Alex is gentle at first, but then he adds another finger, and they curl, rubbing against my inner wall as his tongue laves at my clit on the outside.
“Fuck, Alex!” I cry as he quickly brings me right to the edge of orgasm, then retreats, leaving me gasping and wanting more.
He opens his nightstand and pulls out a condom. “Put it on me,” he instructs. Sitting up and leaning forward, I take the foil packet in my shaking hand. He kneels on the mattress before me, then guides my hand in his, steadying me. Stroking me.
When I put the condom at his tip and start to run it down his length, he leans forward and whispers. “Fucking perfect, Emma. Everything about you.”
My confidence surges, and I arch up to kiss him.
He gently pushes me to lie back, and then he’s spreading my legs, moving between me, and positioning himself.
“Tell me you want it,” Alex says, looking me in the eyes.
“I’ve never wanted anything more.” It’s true.
“It’ll hurt.” I don’t care. “But you’re mine, Emma.” Of course, he knows exactly what to say, as if I’m not already burning up inside.
I nod, reaching around to pull his mouth down to mine. I want his cock driving into me at the same time his tongue fucks my mouth.
I can feel him at my entrance, and I brace for the discomfort. At first, there’s pressure, then a piercing feeling for two seconds, and I bite his lip in reaction, but then it just stings.
“So good for me, baby,” he soothes, pushing in further until he’s fully seated in me. Finally full.
“God, Alex.” I gasp at the feeling. The feeling of him and me… Us. The thought alone brings me to the edge.
“Are you okay if I move?” I nod my head vigorously. All I want is for him to ride me hard. I want the pain. I want to feel alive. And I do for the first time in a long time.
“I want my husband to fuck me. Hard. Please?” I ask, finally giving him what he wants.
“I love you,” he says before pulling out to slam back in. The stinging is back but not as sharp. Then he’s pulling out to come back in again. He’s gripping my neck, and I hold a hand around his arm while my fingernails mark his back.
It’s more instinctual than I thought it would be. When he comes forward, I lift my hips, and when he grinds against my clit, my thighs tense. “Yes,” I beg, writhing, arching my back underneath him, anything that will bring him to that spot again.
“Harder,” I beg.
“Who’s fucking you, Emma?” He asks, moving over me as aggressively as I asked him to.
“Alex.” He shakes his head.
“Who am I to you now?”
“My husband.” He nods.
“Is your husband fucking you well, Em?” I nod, too. “Come apart for me, wife.” I actually picture myself falling. I fall deep. In love with this feeling of belonging. I’m someone to somebody. We belong now. Actually.
“Alex, please!” I shout. He slams into me, grinding down, and my thighs tighten, and my abdomen tenses, and then I’m spasming around his thick length. A full-body orgasm rocks me. Heat spreading to each limb, my release coating his cock.
I throw my head back and moan as he fucks me through it.
“Look at me, baby,” he pleads for my attention, then proceeds to lose it, thrusting hard against me as his dick releases.
I can feel the convulsions, and I wish there wasn’t a barrier between us. I crave his cum deep inside me. The thought that follows is sickeningly embarrassing: ours.
As both our breathing calms, he rests his forehead against mine. We stay like that until our heart rates return to normal, the connection feeling profound in the moment.
“I love you,” he says gently.
I lean up for a quick kiss and say, “I guess we’re really married now,” with a smirk, my attempt at holding my cards a little more closely.
“I guess so,” he says back, a genuine smile painted on his beautiful face.