CHAPTER 50
ALEXIA GREEN.
His lips trail over my face, kissing me everywhere he can before his hands grip my thighs, his fingers etching into my skin sardonically like the ink covering his skin.
The wanton moan that leaps from my throat echoes out like a cry when he thrusts into me.
One powerful thrust that rattles my rib cage and sweeps the very ground from my feet.
Except I’m not even standing.
I’m in the air, lost in his scent, lost in the stubble that caresses my cheek as he fills me up to the brim so much so I think if he moves, he’ll stretch my walls to a limit that will guarantee a few stitches.
He heaves. His breath hits my shoulder, his chest rumbling to an angrier beat than mine.
For a moment I think it will be like the last time we were like this.
I think he’ll pull out and slam into me again and my pussy?
Yeah, I think she likes being stretched despite the pain that has my claws on his shoulder.
My pussy likes being chased, likes being played by this man, likes being soaked with the thought of him rutting into me senseless like he said.
He doesn’t pull out.
He doesn’t give me soft.
He burns me; he chars me with that gaze I can’t look away from.
My heart heaving, my boobs reaching out for his touch, for a smidgen of his affection, Christian doesn’t give me affection, he gives me the truth with no bullshit coated in between.
“We haven’t started the main event and your pussy is already clenching around me. Your pussy is already marking her territory, I want to mark my territory too, Tesoro. All night, all fucking day.”
Then he holds my chin with one hand, his other hand sneaking between us, finding my clit and teasing my little wet mound that throbs and shivers under his movement.
He watches me.
I bite my bottom lip trying to hide all the string of cusses that want to burst out of me from the mounting and overwhelming heat.
“Don’t hold back that raspy voice from me, tesoro. I want you to scream, I want you to tell me just how good you are sucking my dick in. You feel that? You feel how we fit?
Like a goddamn lock and key, baby. A lock and key”, he murmurs.
When he pinches my clit, I lose it.
I open my lips and I exhale,” Oh God…more…please…more.”
He’s inside me and he is not moving.
But the orgasm that ripples through me has me gripping his length for sweet sweet survival.
I pull him in and he feels it because he smirks like a son of gun who knows what he’s doing.
“More what?”
“More, Christian”, I heave.
“That’s right. Not God, not anyone else but Christian, got it?”
“Y—yes. Yes.”
He pulls away, a few inches away from me and when his eyes drop to where we are joined, I almost feel another wave of pleasure possessing my body at the lust in his eyes.
He stares at us, at me, intently like he’s trying to paint the whole picture in his head permanently.
Like the unpredictable mother fucker he is, he asks another question that has me sexually frustrated.
“Your period?”
“On the 17th”, I answer him and my heart almost breaks.
I get it. Condoms and protection and all that shebang is important but that doesn’t stop me from wondering if he sees this as a one-night stand and nothing more.
No commitments, no babies.
“Good. I don’t take risks, Sunshine.”
“I guess I’m not worth the risk, huh?” I ask.
Don’t sound bitchy. Don’t sound bitchy but that statement comes out so catty I know he hears the bitter bile in my tone.
“You are worth the risk, if I’m counting every minute till I fill this pussy with my come and watch it drip all night. I don’t fuck without protection, a few minutes with you and the concept of protection seems like a long-forgotten memory.”
“Ooh”, I shy away.
“Yes, ooh and I’m thinking of you too. I can’t fill your womb with my babies if you don’t give me consent so we settle for filling you up with my come today.”
“And next time?” I ask naively.
Because I want to hear him say it.
Because I know right now, I can’t get pregnant but what if I could? What would he do then?
“I swell you up with our babies.”
I eat his words like candy. Licking, sucking, nibbling.
Because that’s what kids do, they suck on candy without knowing that diabetes is a thing, that their teeth rotting is a possibility.
I know this isn’t going to end well. I feel it and I push that feeling away and jump on the bandwagon of happiness taking his lips.
Taking his groans, taking the pleasure that curls my toes when he starts moving, when I start feeling him in my tummy, everywhere all at once.
He was right though.
This man doesn’t make love.
Doesn’t do it vanilla like how my first and only sex was.
He ruts into me like an uncaged animal, he takes my breath from my throat yet again pumping my heart to an odious beat that tugs at my heartstrings and has my pussy singing hymns like crazy.
He bites my bottom lip sucking it.
He fists my hair as his length pushes inside to that spot that feels like it belongs to him now.
Then he pulls out and it’s the most devastating feeling before he fills me up to the brim again, my ass arching from the cold marble top.
When my ass finds the marble again, it’s his warm hands I find instead protecting my butt from being bruised by the rough concrete.
I try to grip reality. I try to last but another mind-blowing orgasm rattles my body and has me landing in his arms like a bag of bones.
He lets me ride out my orgasm, pushing gently, kissing the top of my head, telling me how good my pussy likes him, how good of a girl I am for pulling his dick inside me no matter how tight my little hole is.
I latch on his dirty talk and I die on that hill because sex has never felt this good.
But this isn’t just sex, is it?
For this man, this is his sport and he dominates it like freaking Serena Williams with tennis.
One minute my pussy is weeping for him every time he pounds inside me and the next minute, he pulls out not giving me a moment to breathe before his face lands between my legs lifting me up the counter with Herculean strength.
I hold onto his shoulders checking out that ink on his back I hadn’t noticed before.
With the lighting, the ink reveals itself to be two massive wings on his back running from his shoulder muscles and stopping at his waist.
The dark outlines, the details, everything about those wings turns me on.
Because that’s what this man does, he makes me soar. He makes me live.
His fingers dig into both sides of my hips and I don’t complain because we’ve been here before.
Another reason why I’m not surprised when my back hits the wall and his face disappears between my slick thighs.
He hoists me up against the wall licking every part of me till I feel it all the way up my spine, up the ticking bomb that is my heart.
“So sweet”, he grumbles, his breath strumming my clit before he dives in for the kill.
He bars my clit between his teeth, his tongue darting inside me and licking every part of me like he just found his new obsession.
I’m a writhing mess.
I’m so overcome by everything this man dishes out to be more than shy.
And Christian?
He worships my body.
“I want this pussy seating on my face, baby girl. All night, taking my breath away.”
I mewl, clutching his hair.
“Ch-Christian”, I moan.
“I’ll give you the whole world, sunshine. After this, ask me for the whole Chanel collection and it will be yours, all yours because I want you so full of me, your pussy will be the shape of my dick.”
“Y—yes.”
Yes, to slaughter.
Yes, to everything you offer.
Yes, to practically everything.
By the time he’s done with me and my body exhales doling out another surge of pleasure that turns my legs weak, Christian slowly slides me down against the wall until I’m face to face with him.
His lips glean with my juices but that doesn’t make him any pissed or annoyed in the least.
He kisses me one more time and I taste myself wanting more of me but he pulls back.
“Your taste is mine now, sunshine. Don’t be greedy.”
Then he picks me up bridal style, hauling me to his bulging arms.
My ear rests on his heart, the one that fires up like a motor that’s just learned how to operate.
He carries me upstairs and I almost fall asleep were it not for the fact that the coolness of the mattress jolts me awake.
I open my eyes and there he is.
Rugged looking, hard features, that scowl melted into a smile, God he’s so handsome.
So, mine.
Both of his arms corner either side of my head and he dips down for a kiss before I feel his dick in line with my core.
“I want more, tesoro. More than once, more than twice, for the whole night if it’s possible.”
I chuckle, cupping his cheek.
“I know. I can see it in your eyes. I can see I have unleashed a monster.”
“Not a monster, baby, but a madman who found his favorite brand of crazy. That’s how it feels when you clamp down on me and suck everything off of my body.”
He pushes the tip inside me and I arch my back off the bed.
It still burns but the anticipation of feeling him inside competes with the pain, the latter winning.
“I haven’t gotten a chance to taste my pretty tits.”
He rams into me, his kisses raining down my clavicle to my breasts and when he lunches at my puckered nipples driving into me as he does, I realize maybe he is a madman and maybe I feel pretty good being his crazy circus.
Problem is?
The madman doesn’t stop.
The madman fucks me all night showing me heaven, nirvana and the stars and still having it in him to make me come more than thrice in the night.
And each time? He comes inside me and I feel his release all the way inside, to depths I didn’t know were possible.
He doesn’t just mark me, he doesn’t take my breath away, Christian Volkov walks away with my heart and I willingly allow him to.