Chapter 24 – Alana
Chapter
Twenty-Four
ALANA
Having my friend here with me is the absolute best distraction. We end up lying in bed eating from a big bowl of peanut M&Ms, the TV flickering in the background even though the sound is muted and we’re not watching it. We’ve been too busy catching up.
We share stories about our lives and our work, and we inevitably end up reminiscing, as old friend always do.
We’re still giggling about a time she abandoned a date in the middle of Central Park Zoo when we hear the knock on the door.
We freeze, looking at each other with our eyes wide and our mouths hanging comically open.
“Alana,” he says in his low, growling voice as he knocks again.
My heart hammers in my chest. The two of us remain silent, staring at each other. She raises her eyebrows in a question and whispers to me. “What do you want to do?”
I have no idea. Part of me wants to go to him, but part of me wants to stay here with Kelsey, where the world feels simple and safe.
“Don’t make me come in there,” Alejandro rumbles, the edge to his voice clearly audible even through the closed door.
I sigh and sit up. Time to face the music.
“You don’t have to go out there,” Kelsey murmurs, taking my hand in hers. “I will totally kick his ass if you want me to.”
I kiss her cheek and stand up. “And I totally believe you could. But I’d better go.” I hate things being wrong between Alejandro and me, and I know he’s suffering, worried about his dad. I need to try and make things right.
“Okay, but remember, I’m only down the hall. Scream twice if you want me to come rescue you.”
“Twice?”
“Well, if you only scream once, it’s probably because you’re hate-fucking, or make-up fucking,” she says with a grin.
I pick up the pillow and hit her over the head with it, making her squeal.
I walk to the door, pausing before I open it.
I can practically feel his annoyance from here.
I pull it open, and there he is. Six feet of solid muscle, with more than the usual amount of anger and fire thrown into the mix.
He narrows his eyes at me, and I already know what he’s thinking.
I’m his wife and I sleep in his bed. Period. Even if he acted like a complete jerk.
“Night, Kels,” I say softly.
“Night sweets. Night Alejandro,” she says, standing up and grinning at him. “Sleep well.” Her cheekiness dissolves some of the tension, and he manages a polite “goodnight Kelsey” as I leave the room.
He gestures for me to walk ahead. With each footstep I take towards our own room, my sense of dread builds. What is happening here? Will I be getting the silent treatment, or does he have something else in mind? Will he punish me?
No, I remind myself, his bed is not for punishment. Except…he’s in a really bad mood, and he seems to blame me for everything that is wrong in the entire world right now. If he stubbed his toe on the doorjamb, that would probably be my fault too.
By the time we’re inside the room my pulse is racing, and my stomach is a churning pit of nerves
Alejandro closes the door firmly behind us and walks to the bed. He slips his black sweatpants off and tosses them onto the floor, standing naked and still magnificent, his semi-hard cock hanging heavy between his thighs. I try not to look, but my eyes don’t get the memo.
I stay still, unsure of what he wants from me. Unsure of anything at all.
“Are you planning on coming to bed fully clothed?” he eventually snaps.
“No,” I whisper. I remove my jeans and tank top but stop at my underwear. His eyes roam over my body, his cock hardening further. He’s still mad, but I guess his eyes didn’t get the memo either.
I unclip my bra and let it fall to the floor.
My nipples are hard, and it’s not just because of the cool air.
It’s because of him. This glorious, gorgeous, completely unreasonable man standing before me.
I take a step closer, his masculine scent hitting me.
He still can’t take his eyes off me, but I can still feel his annoyance.
Whether it’s with himself for still wanting me, or me for existing, I just don’t know.
His stare is ferocious, his tongue running over his lower lip as his eyes devour me.
He looks furious, and I wonder again if he wants to punish me.
In the right time and place, his punishments leave me a hot, trembling mess.
I enjoy them so much that I have been known to deliberately provoke him into a spanking.
But tonight? Tonight is not the right time.
I’m still reeling from the news I got from the doctors.
I still feel guilty about upsetting Lucia and making her feel abandoned all over again.
I’m worried about Mateo. Most of all, I’m still upset about the distance between Alejandro and me.
Distance I know I helped put there, but he’s the one maintaining.
I don’t think I can handle any more hurt right now, even if it is only the physical kind.
Previous times he’s punished me, it’s been followed with such care, such tenderness. With a gentle love that made me feel cherished, even as the skin of my ass was still bright red and stinging. It all balances out.
Right now, though, I’m not sure he’s capable of offering me that. I gulp at the thought of him spanking me or hitting me with his belt and then turning away, leaving me sore and lonely in the aftermath.
I realize after a few seconds, though, that he isn’t going to punish me.
In fact, it seems like he’s not going to touch me at all.
Instead, he turns away and climbs into bed, lying still with his hands behind his head.
I slip in beside him and put my hand on his chest, reaching out in a gesture of peace.
He immediately stiffens, tense with even that small contact.
It hurts, feeling him recoil from me, and gets even worse when he removes my hand from his body.
It’s like our time together on the plane never happened.
“Alex, why did you ask me to come back here if you’re just going to ignore me?” I ask. “I can spend the night with Kelsey or in one of the other guest rooms if being around me upsets you so much.”
“I can’t sleep when you’re not here,” he growls. “And I really need to fucking sleep.”
He sounds exhausted, fraught, and miserable.
I take a deep breath and remind myself of everything he’s been through in the last couple of days.
Finding out we couldn’t have kids was a blow to him, too.
And then I did my magical disappearing act.
How much it hurt me just now, when he didn’t want me to touch him—what I did to him was even worse.
Then to top it all, his dad almost died and is still a long way from being out of the woods.
He has so many responsibilities, and I need to try and set aside my own anxieties and help him.
As he said to me in New York, marriages should be strong in the tough times as much as in the easy times.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“What for?”
“For running away.”
He doesn’t reply. Stares at the ceiling.
“I know you don’t believe me, but I truly am.”
“I do believe you,” he says quietly, taking me by surprise. “I know you wouldn’t do it again.”
“Then why won’t you touch me?” I ask, trying to control the emotion that’s surging through me.
We’ve faced many challenges in our relationship, but a lack of physical desire has never been one of them.
What if something’s switched off inside him now?
I blink back tears, remembering what he said about me crying earlier. “Don’t you want me anymore?”
He turns, his face twisted into a deep scowl. “You think I don’t want you? My cock is weeping for you. God help me, I always want you.”
Thank god.
“I want you too Alex. So, what are you waiting for? I’m right here. I’m yours.”
“Alana, I can’t right now. I’m so fucking angry, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“That’s never stopped you before,” I remind him. “We’ve had sex when you’ve been mad.”
“No, we haven’t. You think you’ve seen me angry? Sometimes I think you’ve never seen the real me. The me I keep inside. He’s a devil and he will fucking devour you.”
Oh lord. A rush of heat floods through my whole body, and my pussy walls throb. I want that. To be devoured by this devil. This man who I love and want more than anything. I run my hand down his chest, and a low growl vibrates through him “Then show me, Alex. Show me the real you.”
He moves before I even finish my sentence, flipping me onto my back and pinning me to the mattress with the weight of his body. “Don’t tempt me, Alana,” he snarls. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I do. And I trust you. You could never hurt me,” I say as I stare into his eyes. “Not like that.”
He seems to have one more moment of doubt, but then he’s overwhelmed by this heat between us, an inferno that never seems to cool.
He seals his mouth over mine, kissing me so fiercely that I struggle for breath.
He pushes his tongue deep inside, claiming me.
I respond with just as much greed. Just as much need.
We’re both hurt, both angry. We need this release.
He might be a devil, but I for sure am no angel.
He grabs hold of my wrists and pins them above my head with one of his giant hands, while the other runs down my body, tugging at my panties until they are halfway down my legs.
He shifts between my thighs, nestling between them as much as he can, given that my ability to spread them wide is restricted by my underwear.
He reaches for his cock, gripping it firmly as he guides the tip inside me.
I gasp into his mouth. He responds by pushing himself as deep as he can go.
I’m not quite ready, and I wince as he stretches me wide open.
I try to wrench my mouth away, but he won’t let me, holding me firm and biting at my lips as he pounds into me.
After a few thrusts, he throws his head back and lets out a loud growl of frustration.