“Do you like them?” he asks, voice low, watching me too closely.
“I do,” I reply quickly, almost too quickly, trying to cover how hard my heart is pounding. I give him a small, shy smile. “Thanks for the chocolate, too. You didn’t have to.”
“I needed to.”
His voice is low, and it slips over my skin like silk. Then, his hand lifts and he touches my chin, cold and damp from the pool,but firm. Steady. His touch makes my knees soften, like I could melt right here in front of him.
“I’ve missed you,” he says, fingers still holding my chin, his thumb ghosting over the edge of my jaw.
The words are simple. But the way he says them, like they carry weight, like I’m not just wanted, but needed, makes something bloom warm and dizzy in my chest. If my eyes could sparkle, I know they would. My chest flutters as I smile at him, soft and small.
“I missed you, too.”
My eyes betray me again and roam down his body, and instantly, I flush. I force them back up to his face.
“Why are you naked?” I ask, even though I already know.
He tilts his head, amused. “I was taking a swim.”
I open my mouth to tell him that trunks exist for a reason, but I already know how that conversation will go. He’ll find some smooth, logical way to justify why swimming butt-naked is more efficient or liberating, or natural for the skin. Classic Alex.
So I don’t bother, I just clear my throat and shift awkwardly on my feet.
“Have you had anything to eat since you got home?”
His gaze sharpens at that, like he’s reading something behind my words. His lips curve in a slow, dangerous smile.
“No,” he says. “But I do now.”
“Huh?” I blink stupidly, not catching on.
But he doesn’t let me finish the thought. He leans down and claims my mouth like I’m the answer to every hunger he’s ever known.
Warm, wet, insistent.
And just like that, my world tips.
A sound so low and needy escapes me before I can stop it. His teeth catch my bottom lip, biting just enough to make me gasp, then sucking it into his mouth like he owns me. My toescurl, my pulse a wild drum in my ears. His hand slides to the back of my neck, wet and cold from the pool, but grounding, holding me right where he wants me. He deepens the kiss until I’m dizzy, until all I taste is him—hot, consuming, his tongue sliding against mine with a desperate hunger that makes my knees feel weak.
I don’t realize he’s lifting me until my feet leave the floor. My legs lock around his waist on instinct, my fist tightening in his wet hair, the other hand clinging to the bouquet so it won’t fall.
He doesn’t break the kiss. Not for a single breath.
He carries me like I weigh nothing, his arms solid steel around me, his mouth never letting mine go as he strides from the balcony into the living room. His footsteps are certain, powerful, like he knows exactly where this is going, and I have no say in stopping it. By the time we reach the bedroom, my heart is thundering, and every inch of me is aching for him.
He lays me down on the bed with controlled strength, my back sinking into the mattress. The bouquet slips from my hand, landing somewhere beside the bed, but Alex doesn’t even glance at it. His mouth is already moving down my neck, tongue tracing, teeth nipping, sucking in a way that makes me gasp.
Cool air brushes my skin as his fingers work my shirt open with swift precision, pushing the fabric from my shoulders as he kisses over the bare skin he uncovers. Every kiss feels like a brand—claiming, searing, impossible to ignore.
I’m panting, gasping, my body burning under his touch, an inferno that licks through me in the best, most unbearable way. I’m already painfully hard, throbbing inside my briefs. His mouth finds my chest, his tongue circles my nipple hot and wet, before sucking hard enough to pull a groan from deep in my chest as my hand tangles in his hair, holding him there because I don’t want him to stop.
“Fuck, I like that sound,” he rasps against my skin, his breath hot. Then he bites, just enough to make me gasp, and soothes it with another slow, wet circle of his tongue. My head falls back, and his name tears out of me, raw and broken.
His fingers hook into my waistband, dragging my jeans down, then my briefs, slow enough to make me ache, until I’m bare between his thighs, flushed and open to him. His mouth never leaves my skin, kissing, biting, claiming, while his hands roam my hips, my stomach, the insides of my thighs, leaving touches that make my chest feel too full, my lungs too tight. Every drag of his lips, every trace of his fingers pulls moans and gasps from me, leaving me wrecked and at his mercy.
When he finally comes back up, his mouth crashes against mine, and his weight shifts, making his cock slide against mine in one smooth, deliberate press. A guttural moan escapes me before I can stop it, the contact rough, scorching, and too good, the heat and friction sparking through me until I’m leaking across my stomach, my body shuddering. My fingers claw into his back, holding him to me as he rolls his hips, grinding into me with a rhythm that has me losing my mind.
“I love how needy you are for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs against my lips, that deep, husky voice sending a rush of shivers down my spine, making More precum spill from my stiff cock helplessly.
