“You’re so fucking beautiful… and all mine.”
A brutal thrust that knocks a gasp out of me.
“All. Fucking. Mine. And I need you to remember that.”
My stomach plunges, heat pooling low, butterflies twisting tight in my gut. My head’s a mess, my vision hazy as I watch him—watch Alex fuck every sense out of me. I can feel my climax building fast, stealing my breath.
“Shit, Alex,” I slur, my voice cracking. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
“Not yet,” he says, and slows his pace to a deep, torturous grind. My eyes fly open in disbelief, impatience, and desperate disappointment.
“Oh, no—no,” I whine, trying to push my hips up for more. “Don’t stop. Please. Please…”
“You still haven’t told me where you want to go for vacation,” he says smoothly, like he isn’t holding me hostage in my own body. His strokes stay slow, deliberate, and it’s pure torture.
My brain can barely hold a thought through the fog of heat.
“W-what? I didn’t know you were serious about that.”
“I am,” he says, and punctuates it with a single, ruthless thrust that makes my head snap back, my eyes rolling.
“Look at me,” he orders, his voice a low command that makes my body obey without thinking. “Look at me and answer me.”
I force my eyes to meet his, even though every muscle in me wants to give in and collapse. His gaze is scorching, pinning me in place as his hips roll inside me slow and deep.
“Now,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s enjoying my torture, “tell me.”
“T-Thailand,” I pant, barely getting the word out. “Or… Bora Bora, I guess…”
“Mm,” he hums, drawing the sound out as if tasting my answer. “Not bad.”
Before I can respond, he slams into me hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs, his pace instantly turning merciless.
“Alex…” I gasp, my nails digging into the sheets.
“Say my name like that again,”
And I do.
His head snaps back, a deep, sexy moan ripping out of him. The sound raw and desperate shoots straight through me. His jaw flexes, his lip caught between his teeth, and I can’t look away. He’s losing himself because of me, completely undone, making pride bloom in my chest.
When his gaze finally drops back to mine, it’s electric, heat, and hunger wrapped into one. His pupils are blown wide, his eyes sharp and wild.
“Goddamn, baby… you’re gonna make me come,” he grits out, his voice rough.
He shifts his hips just slightly, just enough angle to thrust against my prostate. Every snap of his hip is sharp, relentless, hitting that spot that has my whole body shaking, winding me tighter, pulling me higher into ecstasy.
Then his hand finds my aching and weeping cock as he wraps it firm and hot, stroking in time with his hips.
“Oh, Alex—” My words crumble into breathless, broken sounds, my voice comes out as a strained gasp. My body tightens, ready to shatter. His thumb drags over the slit of my cock, just once, and I break, my release tears through me in heavy, merciless waves, so hard my vision blurs, my voice spilling into sharp cries I can’t bite back, cum spilling everywhere—his hands, my torso, my chest. fuck.
“Yes… That’s it, baby. You look so damn beautiful coming for me,” he murmurs, voice wrecked and rough, his hips grinding through my climax, milking every clench. Each drag, each stretch, the pure intense pleasure, it’s too much, and not enough, all at once. My moans are too loud to stop, my fists gripping the sheets until my knuckles ache, my insides clenching around his cock without mercy.
“fuck you’re making a pretty mess for me,” he rasps, and his thrusts falter, one deep broken drive after another, then he groans as he spills inside me in hot pulsing waves, hips grinding deep like he can’t let me go, and he doesn’t stop. His hips keep rolling, dragging out every last tremor, every gasp, until I’m whimpering at the over-sensitivity, lost in the haze of him.
Then he leans down, and his mouth claims mine. It’s not frantic, but slow, deep, deliberate. It’s nothing like the rough, hot way he just fucked me. His tongue brushes mine in slow strokes, his lips coaxing, claiming, tasting. He sucks my bottom lip, releases it with a warm breath, and presses a kiss to the tip of my nose before returning to my mouth. Each kiss is unhurried, as if we have no concept of time, as if he’s savoring the quiet ruin he’s made of me.
He’s rolling his hips lazily now, his muscles flexing with each slow roll. My hands, weak and trembling, find their way up his back. His skin is hot beneath my fingertips. I can still feel the thick warmth of his release inside me, and it makes my insides clench around him, holding him there, greedy for more. I don’t want him to pull out. I don’t want to lose this heat, this closeness. If I could keep him buried inside me forever, I would.
