“And now?”
“Now…” He pulls me closer, and I stumble slightly, catching myself with my hands on his shoulders.“I’m not.”
He tugs again, and suddenly my knees are on the bed on either side of his thighs, my arms looping around his shoulders for balance.His face tilts up slightly to meet my gaze, and I can see every fleck of silver in his eyes, feel his skin under my hands.
“Alexander,” I breathe, and his name tastes like a prayer and a curse all at once.
His hand slides inside my robe, palm hot against my ribs.“Yes?”
I can’t process any thoughts.“We can’t.”
“Can’t what?”His mouth finds my neck, lips brushing just below my ear, and I shiver.
“We can’t—” His hand moves higher, thumb grazing the underside of my breast.“Oh, god.”
“Can’t what, Olivia?”His teeth graze my pulse point, and I whimper.
I can’t form words.Can’t think.Can only feel—his mouth on my neck, his hands on my skin, the solid weight of him between my thighs.
“If you’re going to come to me in a robe,” he murmurs against my throat, his voice dark with promise, “I’m going to take advantage of that.”His hand cups my breast fully now, and I gasp.“I’m not a very nice man.”
A laugh huffs out of me, half disbelief, half desperate need.“I find that hard to believe.”
His hand slides lower, between my thighs.I gasp at the contact, my hips jerking forward involuntarily.He just has to touch me, and I’m already wet.His hand cups my pussy, and he presses down with the heel of his hand.I let out a shaky breath, my legs spreading even more to give him access.He’s watching me, and when a thick finger is inserted, my lips part on his name.
“You’re not—You’re not playing fair,” I whisper as he stuffs in another finger.
“I never said I would,” he responds, his fingers curling in me, pressing against a spot that has me jerking.“Do you like this?”
My mouth moves, but I can’t say it, can’t tell him that I want him to keep using his hand on me.Instead when he forces another finger inside, I whimper his name, grinding down on his hand.
“Go on,” he invites.“Take what you want.”It takes me a second to realize what he’s saying: he wants me to fuck myself on his fingers.
“Alexander,” I breathe, my voice trembling.“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”He winds his other hand in my wet hair and forces my head toward him, our lips inches apart.“Go ahead.I want to see you move, Olivia.I’m not going to ask again.”There it is.That voice he uses when he has me like this, like he expects complete and utter obedience from me.Why do I like it?Why does it make me want to obey him?
I lift my hips, and my eyes flutter shut as I start pushing down on his hand.Over and over, grinding down, my hands on his shoulders.
“Look at me,” he orders, and I have no choice but to do so.I feel dazed, chasing a pleasure only he can give me.
“Good girl,” he murmurs before kissing me.My lips part immediately, and as he holds my head to him, his fingers start moving again.I moan into his mouth as he slams them into me.I can hear the squelching sounds, and my pussy tightens around his fingers in response.I buck against his hand, desperate.
“That’s it,” he murmurs against my mouth, his other hand tangling in my wet hair.I’m whimpering now, my fingers digging into his shoulders as the pleasure builds.His mouth trails along my jaw.“You’re so beautiful when you fall apart.So wanton.I could do anything to you right now, and you would say yes, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Whose hand are you using to get off?”Alexander bites my neck gently.“Tell me.Say my name.”
“Yours,” I babble, the pleasure so sharp now I can almost taste it.
“Who’s fucking you, Olivia?”His voice is commanding.“Who’s making you writhe like this?”
“You, Alexander!”I sob out, my hands holding on to his shoulders for dear life.He rewards me by twisting his fingers inside me.I shatter with a cry, the pleasure blinding.
I’m still coming when he pulls out his fingers, and with one swift movement, he pulls the sash of my robe open.The fabric falls away, and suddenly I’m completely bare before him.The cool air hits my heated skin, making me shiver, but Alexander’s gaze is molten as it sweeps over me.
“Look,” he says, his voice rough.
