Page 34 of Wicked God
“We would be very close friends.” He lifts me onto the table and pushes my panties aside to reveal my drenched pussy. “So pretty.”
His breath is hot against my inner thigh, and I shudder as he kisses my skin, his lips trailing lower, closer to where I need him most. My pussy’s dripping, my arousal coating my thighs, and I can’t stop myself from spreading my legs wider, begging him without words to take me, to devour me.
His tongue flicks against my clit, and I gasp, my back arching off the table. “Alex!” I cry out, my hands clutching the edge of the table so hard my nails dig into the wood. He doesn’t stop—his tongue laps at me, slow and teasing, before he sucks my clit into his mouth, swirling it with a skill that sends lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through my body. I’m writhing, my hips bucking against his face as he eats me out like I’m the last meal on earth.
“Harder,” I whisper. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper, to make me feel it. He groans against me, the vibration of his voice sending shivers up my spine, and then he plunges two fingers inside me, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot. His thumb circles my clit, relentless and perfect.
I’m close, so close. I can feel it building up inside me, a pressure that’s about to explode into a million pieces.
“I’m going to come,” I sob, my body tightening, every nerve on fire.
“Fuck, Olivia, you’re so tight.” Alex’s fingers are buried deep inside me. His tongue is relentless on my clit, flicking and sucking in a rhythm that’s driving me insane. I can feel my orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to drown me whole.
“Alex, I—oh god—” I moan, coming undone. It’s like an earthquake ripping through me, my pussy clenching around his fingers as I explode. Stars burst behind my eyelids, my thighs shaking uncontrollably. He doesn’t let up, his tongue still lapping at me, milking every drop of pleasure until I’m trembling and gasping for air. My legs give out, and I collapse back onto the table, utterly fucking wrecked.
Alex pulls back, his lips glistening with my juices, and I’m done for. My panties are still tangled around one ankle, my skirt bunched up around my waist. He stands, his cock strainingagainst his pants, hard and thick and begging for attention. My eyes drop to it, and I swear my pussy clenches in anticipation.
“Is this...” I pause, swallowing hard. “Is this how all your friendships are?”
Alexander’s smile is predatory, his eyes dark with hunger. “You’ve been the exception to my rules since I first laid eyes on you, Olivia.”
I want to believe him, to let myself fall into this moment completely. But the rational part of my brain is screaming caution, even as my body begs for more.
“What does that mean?” I ask, hating how weak I sound. “For us, for this plan?”
“I don’t know. But we can’t pretend that this is a simple business arrangement—not with you.”
I nod, understanding all too well. This weekend at the beach house has complicated everything, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy, between right and wrong. Part of me wants to run, to protect myself from the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. But a larger part wants to stay right here, in the warmth of Alex’s arms. Consequences be damned.
“We should talk about this,” I say, leaning closer to him. “Figure out what it means for our plan.”
“We should.” Alexander’s eyes drop to my lips, and I can see the hunger in them, raw and unfiltered. “But not right now.”
As he leans in for another kiss, I know I’m treading dangerous waters. But for once again, I silence the voice of reason and give in to the moment. His lips collide with mine, bruising and desperate, his tongue claiming my mouth like he owns it.
Alexander pushes me back onto the table, spreading my legs wide, and I’m so wet, so ready for him, that when he thrusts inside me, it’s like fireworks exploding behind my eyes. He’s big, so fucking big, and he fills me completely, stretching me in the best way possible. He fucks me hard, his hips slamming intomine, and I’m screaming, clawing at his back as he pounds into me like he owns me.
“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice rough and possessive, and I nod, too lost in pleasure to argue. His hands grip my hips, holding me steady as he drives into me over and over, each thrust hitting that sweet spot deep inside me. I’m coming again, my pussy clamping down on his cock, and he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release. When he finally comes, it’s with a roar, his cock pulsing inside me as he fills me with his cum.
We collapse onto the table together, both of us breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. Alex’s arms wrap around me, pulling me close, but I lift my head and glance around, looking for my clothes. There are so many things to plan, yet so little time. But as I try to slip away from Alex’s arms, he pulls me back into his embrace, his strong hands cradling my face.
“Where are you going?”
“Home,” I say. “My to-do list is a mile long.”
“Stay,” Alex insists. “You’ve done enough for one night.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to spend more time getting to know my future wife.”
“Future wife?”
“Yes, my future wife,” he murmurs, leaning in for a slow, tender kiss.
With each passing second, the idea of marrying Alexander Hawthorne becomes more and more appealing.
Chapter 17
