Page 114 of Filthy Dirty Dom

The room was filled with the sounds of their mingled breaths, the muted echoes of their shared pleasure. He felt the precipice approaching again, saw it in the way her movements became more frenzied. But it wasn’t just the promise of a physical release that beckoned to them; it was the completion of a connection, a journey of two souls intertwining in the most intimate way possible.

He had given her many firsts, and in return, she had given him this. The feeling of belonging, of being anchored, of not being alone in the world.

With every pulse of pleasure that rippled through him, Alex felt the tightening coil of another release. In an almost instinctual movement, he flipped them over again, plunging deeper into her as her back hit the sheets. He braced himself above her on trembling arms, his eyes locked with hers as he moved with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

"I'm close, Leslie," he gasped out, the words strangled by the intense pleasure coursing through him.

His admission seemed to ignite something in her, her eyes gleaming with a fierce need. "Please, Alex... let go," she begged him breathlessly, her hands clutching at his shoulders.

Her words, her pleading tone, was the final straw. With a guttural growl, he surrendered to the storm, his climax crashing through him in a wave of intense, almost blinding pleasure. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, his body jerking uncontrollably as he spilled into her.

Slowly, the world started to come back into focus and the tremors that racked his body began to subside. But the intimacy, the connection that they shared, that lingered.

Gently, Alex rolled off her, his body slick with sweat. But he didn't let go of her; instead, he pulled her into his chest, his arm draped protectively around her waist. Silence fell between them, broken only by their ragged breathing.

With Leslie nestled against him, he allowed himself a moment of surrender.

This was love.

A love so profound it silenced his fears, quieted his demons, and filled the gaping void within him. He was home within her arms, in the warmth of her embrace, in the depth of her eyes.

I love you, Leslie.

The words hovered at the precipice of his thoughts, desperate to tumble out. But he held them back.

After everything he’d told her last night, Leslie believed that Alex had loved his wife. And while he’d cared for Mia, he hadn’t loved her. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, they would never have stayed together, especially after he’d learned she was tied to the Italian mafia. But she had, and he’d wanted to do the right thing by her and their child.

Instead, he’d been the thing that had gotten Mia and their child killed.

So he held back his feelings. And even though the words of love remained unsaid, the sentiment echoed loudly within him. He was in love, deeply, irrevocably, and silently. And part of him prayed that even without hearing the words, Leslie felt his love for her.

52

Lying on Alex's chest, his skin was warm, searingly so, its heat enveloping Leslie like a cocoon. The drum of his heartbeat was a soothing metronome against her ear.

"That... that was incredible," Leslie murmured, her words barely a whisper.

Her confession elicited a low chuckle from Alex, the reverberation tickling against her cheek, causing a soft smile to play on her lips. "Incredible times infinity, Sunshine," he replied.

His fingers played a gentle dance up and down her spine, tracing the ridges with an affectionate familiarity. She nestled further into his arms.

Her eyes began to droop, the events of the night finally catching up with her. As sleep beckoned her, she tightened her hold on Alex, her fingers gripping his skin as if trying to anchor herself to him.

As if some part of her already knew that this connection to him was soon going to end.

The first rays of morning sunlight peeked through the windows. Unlike how Alex normally woke, alert and energized, this was a soft awakening, one as delicate as the woman lying beside him. He blinked open his eyes and stared at Leslie, her body soft and relaxed against him. Her breath was rhythmic and soothing, her beauty so dazzling it brought a slow smile to his lips.

He felt good. Not just physically, with the satisfying ache of spent passion resonating through his muscles, but emotionally too. It was a feeling that chased away the shadows that usually lurked at the edges of his consciousness, banishing the ghosts of his past.

Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to Leslie's neck, tasting the salty sweet residue of the previous night on her skin. "Good morning," he whispered. His fingers traced a slow path down her arm, a tactile hello that was as intimate as it was comforting.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she stirred, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. Her smile was sleepy and content, a mirror of what he was feeling. "Good morning," she murmured back.

"You okay?" Alex asked.

"I'm more than okay, Alex," she said. Her hand reached up to gently caress his stubbled cheek, a simple touch that seemed to communicate a thousand words. Yet, after she lowered her hand and they lay in silence for a few minutes, Alex sensed a change in her.

She stiffened, and her gaze seemed suddenly distant.

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