He shook his head. “You don’t have to,” he assured me.
“I want to,” I replied, dragging my hand up and down in the same torturously slow way he teased me earlier. He let his head fall back on the pillow. I pulled at the strings of the trunks and pushed them down slowly.
“Hmmm.” I leaned down to him and let my tongue caress him from the base up and he let out another groan, fueling my confidence.
“Fuck,” he mumbled as I took his length in my mouth. “You are perfect,” he said, looking down at me. I kept my eyes on him as I sucked him, high on the power. I gently let my teeth trail as I pulled back up, making him groan even louder. And damn, a man who groaned and responded to your touch like this? The hottest thing I have ever experienced. I felt so powerful in that moment.
I kept going until a hand reached down, pulling my hair together out of my face, then tugged.
“Come here,” he commanded, voice dark. In a trance, I nodded and did as I was told. My heart beat so hard I could hear it, drunk in anticipation. He kissed me long and slow, one of those toe-curling, heart-fluttering kisses. Then our foreheads touched for a moment.
“I’ll go get a condom.” He walked toward the bathroom. When he came back, his eyes were dark and clouded, it was intoxicating to see. He looked me up and down, drank me in as he reached me, and held out the condom with a smirk. I leveled him with my own look, chin high, feeling so beautiful and strong under his gaze. I took it from him and climbed on top, a hand to his chest to push him down, straddling him as I ripped open the foil with my teeth, pulled it out, and rolled it on his thick length. He hesitated, watching my reaction, and I smiled, because Alexander’s subtle check-in made my heart soar. I nodded and tilted against him in the sheer need to have him touching me again. He pushed inside me, his jaw tight as he shut his eyes.
Oh God.
A moan slipped out of me as I stretched around him. The pressure grew, and I gasped as he hit every nerve inside me.
“So fucking tight.” His voice was a low rumble, his eyes flashed with heat as he kept pushing. His hand drifted to my breast, toying with my nipple as he slid in farther. The sensation of him is all-consuming. Our hips are pressed tight against each other, my knees on the mattress, and another moan of pleasure slipped out of me as heat raced up my spine.
“That’s right, angel.” He brushed the hair out of my face, a thumb brushing my cheek. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock so well.” His voice was tight with emotion, a flush coloring his cheekbones. His eyes burned with a mix of heat, longing, and adoration all at once. The way he looked at me like that, it made my heart skip, my head dizzy. I wanted it. I wanted it all the time.
He pushed in deeper, his jaw still clenched and gorgeous. The pressure built and he gave me a second to adjust before he moved again, faster and harder. And I melted into him. Our groans melted together, our bodies tangled. He flipped us over, him behind me, and he wrapped my hair around his fist. So gently and yet just the smallest tug sent me over the top. I felt the pleasure flooding my body, my back arching into his touch as he readjusted and started moving again.
“Harder.” I gasped out and he did just as I asked.
“You feel so fucking good, angel,” he said between thrusts. I gasped in response, and turned to look behind me, his fist still wrapped around my hair.
“Like the view, hotshot?” I asked, feeling confident. I could’ve sworn his eyes rolled back into his head at those words.
“Best damn view I’ve ever seen,” he responded, slowing down. His breathing was ragged as he tried to regain control.
“More, please,” I begged, and it was enough for his eyes to darken and to resume. “I’m so close,” I cried out. Pleasure flooded me again, building and building before the pressure popped and my orgasm rolled through me in a final crescendo.
“Fuck,” he groaned out, coming down with me. We collapsed afterward, limbs tangled and hearts racing. I rolled over to face him. His espresso eyes were soft and contented. He reached out his hand, gently brushing his thumb over my chin, then cheek, and placing a kiss on the side of my head. He pulled me to him and drew circles on my skin with his fingers while he muttered, “Fucking perfect.”
I love him. I love him more than the stars in the sky. He is my sky.
* * *
The thing about vacations is you never really want them to end. Then when they do end, you kind of feel like you’ve been hit by a truck.
I was half asleep with my head in Alexander’s lap, his arm wrapped around my waist. Alexander had been asleep since takeoff. Gianna was knocked out in Matteo’s arms and Nicola had contorted her body into a ball, reading on her Kindle.
Gianna had woken up in the middle of the night, but it was Alexander who got her, who rocked her gently for an hour, trying to get her back down in her crib before eventually bringing her to bed with us. She curled into my side easily, and I don’t think I have ever slept better. My heart grew ten sizes that night.
As I sat on the plane, I felt so overwhelmed with the amount of love there was here. The amount of people who would go to bat for my daughter. Who would love her and protect her. I had always felt this deep guilt about raising her by myself. That maybe I wasn’t enough. But the thing I was realizing, especially over the last few months, was that I wasn’t alone. That it was okay to feel those things. Anna had opened up to me about feeling the same, about feeling the loss of self to motherhood. How she felt guilty for going back to work even though she loved what she did. Most of all, that it was all normal. It was all things we would feel and grow through. And that it was hard, really fucking hard. But if you had your village, then the days would get easier and you could cherish every moment no matter how hard the days were or how little sleep you got. Granted, it was easier said than done, but I was readjusting and really enjoying the little moments of every day.
36
ALEXANDER
The atmosphere at the Las Vegas Grand Prix was electric. The lights of the Strip shimmered in the distance, casting a neon glow over the track. Even as I strapped into the car, the buzz of the crowd was palpable, charging the air with adrenaline. But beneath the excitement, I could feel the lingering edge of last week’s crash tugging at my confidence. The images of the impact replayed in my mind when I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t let that get to me now.Not here. Not tonight.
Qualifying hadn’t been ideal. I placed mid-grid, eighth, but a necessary penalty for the much-needed car upgrades pushed me back to twelfth. A gut punch, sure, but I knew I had a strong car under me. Simon had reminded me of that a dozen times this weekend. I was buzzing with energy; I had woken up with Lucia in my arms, looking like a painting with her blonde hair cascading down her bare back. I had left rather early. Nicola had brought Gianna back over from their sleepover. Lucia had been getting dressed for the race, tugging a light blue dress on before I left. I barely had time to scribble on the hotel stationery and hide it under her phone on the nightstand before she noticed.
You look pretty today. I like you in blue.
I liked leaving her notes; they were my own version of her affirmation cards. So she could be reminded of how amazing she was, even if it was little things.
