Chapter 39
1963words
Was he obviously pissed? Yes.
Did I care? No.
One thing I had to be thankful for was the fact that Alex was big and strong. He caught me easily even though he hadn’t been prepared for it, his hand tightening almost bruisingly on my hips even as he pulled me closer. He opened his mouth to say something and I had a strong feeling that this something wasn’t going to be anything I wanted to hear right now so I dove into action, pressing my mouth against his and effectively stealing his words.
God, I’d missed this.
Him.
I’d missed kissing him.
How odd.
He groaned into my mouth, deepening the kiss. His tongue slipped out, pushing against my lips, seeking entrance. I opened up for him immediately, my hand climbing up to his hair and my fingers sifting through the strands as I immersed myself in the kiss.
The fullness of it. The rightness.
The promise of what was to come.
It wasn’t like the usual kisses we shared when one of us fought for dominance over the other. No, this one was different. Our tongues met and danced, telling each other the words that our lips couldn’t form yet.
When one hand left my hip and cupped my face, lifting my head and angling it so that he could kiss me the way he wanted, his tongue plugging deep, I knew that he was just as lost in the kiss as I was. When he let out a cross between a moan and a groan, I knew that he had missed kissing me just as much as I’d missed kissing him.
My legs weakened when he started nibbling on the side of my mouth. A rush of desire slammed into me so fast, so hard, I sagged against him, wrecked with desire.
“What the hell are you wearing?” He breathed, peppering kisses all over my face. “I can feel your nipples through your shirt.”
“For you,” I muttered, eyes closed and head thrown back as he unleashed hell on my neck with his lips.
“Huh?”
“I wore them for you,” I clarified, my words breathless and slurred. I might as well be drunk. “I wanted you to see.”
Alex’s big body shook with my admission, and he dropped his face into my neck, inhaling deeply. “Laura… I am going to fuck you so hard, you’ll feel me for the next few days.”
That had me squeezing my legs tightly together, my hands tugging urgently on his hair. “Do it." I begged. "Please.”
I began to panic when he started pulling away from me, but when I saw the look on his face—the way his face muscles had drawn tight with lust and how blown his eyes were—I knew that he was definitely game. At least until he opened his mouth. “We can’t.” His voice was hoarse, pain and regret starting to creep into his eyes. “Not here, in a restroom.”
What?
That cleared a bit of the fog of lust I was in.
“Have you never had sex in a restroom?”
His green eyes darkened dangerously and he straightened to his full height. “No. Have you?”
Huh.
Evading the question, I let a seductive smile take over my face. “There’s a first time for everything.”
When he just kept standing there staring at me stonily, I took hold of one of his hand and placed it on my breast, sliding my own hand up to his shoulder and smiling victoriously when his hand—the one I'd placed on my breast—didn't fall back to his side.
His eyes dropped to my chest. More precisely, to my nipples straining against the material of my top and lust flared in those green depths anew. He couldn't resist giving my breasts a light squeeze.
His eyes dropped even father down to my hips, heels, then back up to my face. My hair, my eyes, my lips. His own lips parted as he inhaled sharply.
When he’d told me to not wear anything too fancy, I’d gone through my closet, fished out a white halter top, plain blue jeans that left nothing to the imagination and six-inch heels. I'd used a bit of eye-liner and red lipstick that I knew would drive him nuts. It was the type that didn’t come off easily, and was the reason why his lips weren’t as red as mine right now.
After his very long perusal of me, his eyes dropped to half-mast and he muttered, “Fuck.”
He swivelled me around so fast, I only realised he’d done it when I was facing the mirror. He made quick work of my jeans, yanking them to my knees, only stopping to bite my ass cheek softly. I expected him to take my panties off, but he simply dragged them to the side, instead going to work on his zipper and it was so fucking hot, moisture ran down the insides of my thighs.
I could only brace my hand on the sink and watch him through the mirror, my eyes so hooded, they were almost closed. I couldn’t see what he was doing because he was behind me, but with the lines of concentration that appeared between his brows, I knew that he was taking himself out.
Soon, I felt a rush of cool air hit me, then I felt him at my entrance. Hot. Hard. Heavy. Like steel.
He paused, meeting my eyes in the mirror and I almost fucking screamed. “I don’t have a condom.”
“I’m on the pill,” I said impatiently, without thinking.
A lack of condom wasn't going to stop us now. I needed him inside me.
Then he slammed into me and I lost the ability to speak at all.
Huge.
He was huge and it had been a minute and I—fuck.
My body must have forgotten what it was like to have him inside it because my walls clamped down on him like a vise, his length inside me, deep and pulsing. The fit was so tight, I could feel his heartbeat like it was my own.
He was so big, it was a just on the verge of being painful. I rose on my toes to make the ache bearable, hoping that it would make him slide a few inches out of me at least, but then his grip on my hip tightened and he pulled me back down, at the same time thrusting, and I realised with a startled moan, that I hadn't taken all of him before.
Now, he was fully inside me.
He was so deep, I swear I could feel him in my stomach. And the fact that he hadn't let me get away—that he'd pinned me down when I tried to run and shoved his remaining inches inside me—was the perfect aphrodisiac as it sent a rush of wetness to my pussy, making it easier for him to move and for me to breathe. I still felt him, big and hard inside me, but it didn't feel like he was cutting off my air supply anymore.
"Sweet Christ, Laura, you feel like sin," Alex let out in a strangled voice. "Look like it too," he added. "Open your eyes."
I wasn't even aware my eyes were closed until he asked me to open them. I suppose intense pleasure could do that to a person.
Opening my eyes turned out to be a chore. My lids felt like two lead weights and it took me almost an hour to get them to open. When I did, it was to face the mirror—to face our reflection.
His eyes were hooded, his pupils dilated. His face was flushed, perspiration dotting his upper lip—a dead giveaway that he his hold on control was slipping fast.
Even in my heels, he was still far taller than me and the fact that we were both still fully clothed—save for my jeans around my ankles—made it even hotter. I clamped down on him and he gave a sharp involuntary jerk of his hips, groaning. I moaned.
"You're going to make me lose my damn mind."
With great effort, I lifted my head to meet his eyes in the mirror. “That’s the plan.”
A pained look entered his eyes right before he snapped his hips forward, hitting me hard and deep and causing a gasp to fall from my lips. “Well then, I’ve got good news for you; It’s fucking working.” Then he gathered my hair in his hand—hair that had taken me close to an hour to get the curls right—fisted it, then pulled my head back so that I wouldn't have any choice but to watch our reflection as he fucked me.
I guess the time for talking was over because from then on, only the sound of his hips smacking against my ass could be heard in the otherwise silent room. The sound was so obscene, what we were doing so fucking dirty, it made me wetter.
I wasn't even sure he’d locked the stall when he came in. Anyone could just walk in right now and catch us and we’d be fucked—no pun intended—but I couldn’t find it in me to give a quarter of a fuck right now.
I couldn’t find it in me to do anything but grab onto the sink as he slammed into me over and over again. I’d asked him to make it hard, but I hadn't been prepared for sex this hard. Each thrust had my hipbones hitting the marble sink almost painfully, bringing him inside me so fucking deep.
But then he bent his knees and thrusted upward, changing the angle, and I swear to God, I saw stars right then.
“Oh s-s-shit,” I stuttered, my eyes crossing and sliding closed. My walls fluttered around him as that familiar build up hit me, the tension growing and coiling tighter until I thought I was going to snap. “I’m going to come,” I whispered, my hands, slick with sweat, slipping on the sink. “I’m going to come, Alex, I—”
He yanked my head back with his grip on my hair and my eyes flew open instantly. “Eyes on me when you come.”
Oh, fuck. This bossy side of him turned me on to an insane degree.
Helplessly, I held his eyes in the mirror despite how hard it was to keep them open. Even though a tiny part of my brain that was still functioning, realised that this was a dangerously intimate thing to do. And, hell, at this new angle, he went in so bloody deep, each thrust came with a truckload of pleasure and a tiny pinch of pain.
That combination—along with the crazed look in his eyes—was what sent me over the edge. That tightly coiled ball snapped and liquid heat spiralled through me.
Alex had to clamp his palm over my mouth to stop me from screaming the bloody roof down, and the orgasm was so intense, I bit on his palm.
My legs lost what remained of their strength and I had to lean on the sink in order not to collapse on the floor.
Alex punched into me once, twice, thrice then he stilled, and I felt his release, warm and sticky, shoot into me. He thrusted through his release, groaning and leaving a trail of wet kisses at the base of my neck.
Spent, he sagged forward, dropping his face into my neck and flicking his tongue back and forth over the skin there.
“You up for round two?”
Shocked, I looked up, only to see that his eyes were light with amusement. “Fiend.”
His breaths tickled my neck as he laughed.
Well, whaddya know?
The man was even prettier when sated.
Fuck my life.
