“Alina,” I whisper, not to wake her, but to let her know I’m here.
We’re both sleeping naked, a habit from the island that we never stopped. The sight of her naked body still makes me absolutely fucking ravenous for her, and sends blood rushing south, hardening my cock against my stomach.
She’s fully healed now, no trace of the cast that encased her arm for weeks, the hair on her scalp grown back to almost blend seamlessly with the rest.
Her nightmares are ghosts that linger, even as her body has mended. Sometimes she dreams of her mom and sister, sometimes Andrea, sometimes the car that nearly took her from me. I’ve learned to recognize the subtle differences in her cries.
Tonight, she cries for her mom, begging for forgiveness even though she did nothing wrong. Is it wrong that I want to bring Sophia Brewer back to life just so I can kill her myself for the scars she’s left my wife with?
For now, I’ll settle for chasing away the bad dreams and replacing them with good ones. It’s becoming a specialty of mine.
I slide down Alina’s body like a predator, careful not to wake her yet. Positioning myself between her thighs, I breathe her in. Mhmm, sweet and musky and all fucking mine. Her pussy glistens in the dim light, already wet like she can feel me breathing against her.
The first long, slow lick up her center makes her gasp in her sleep, hips bucking. I groan against her flesh, the taste of her hitting my bloodstream like the finest whiskey.
“So fucking sweet,” I murmur against her inner thigh, placing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. “Always ready for me, aren’t you?”
My fingers join my mouth, one sliding inside her tight cunt while my tongue circles her clit with deliberate precision. She’s slick and hot, her body responding even as she hovers in that space between sleep and waking. I curl my finger to find that spot that makes her…
“Ah!” Her breathless cry fills our bedroom as her back arches off the bed.
I smile against her, adding a second finger, stretching her as I suck her clit between my lips. The sight of her—head thrown back, red hair spread across the pillow, lips parted in pleasure—has my cock leaking pre-cum onto the sheets beneath me.
“That’s it,” I coax, my voice rough with desire. “Give it to me.”
Her hips begin to move with more purpose, grinding against my face as my fingers pump steadily inside her. I could worship her like this for hours, drowning in her taste, high on the little sounds she makes when she’s close.
My free hand grips her thigh, holding her open for me as I devour her with single-minded focus.
Some nights I take her with calculated control, drawing out her pleasure until she’s begging, sobbing my name. Tonight isn’t one of those nights. Tonight, I need to feel her shatter against my tongue, need to taste her surrender before I bury myself deep inside her.
“Raffaele,” she moans, still half-asleep, her fingers finding my hair, tugging with just enough force to make my scalp tingle pleasurably.
I growl against her pussy, the vibrations making her thighs tremble.
My fingers curve inside her, pressing firmly against that swollen spot while my tongue flicks rapidly over her clit. She’sclose. I can feel it in the way her inner muscles clench around my fingers, in the quickening of her breath, in the tension building in her thighs.
“Come for me,” I command, voice muffled against her wet flesh. “Now, Alina.”
As if her body was waiting for my permission, she orgasms with a sharp cry that tears through the darkness.
Her back bows, thighs clamping around my head as pleasure crashes through her. I don’t let up, working her through every pulse, every shudder, drinking her release like a man dying of thirst.
“Oh God,” she gasps, fully awake now, her eyes wide and dazed as they find mine. “Raffaele…”
I drag myself up her body and take her mouth in a slow, grounding kiss, swallowing the last echoes of her nightmare. When breaking the kiss, I flip her onto her stomach, yanking her hips up until she’s on her knees.
The sight of her ass in the air, her pussy weeping and swollen from my attention, nearly breaks my control.
Bending over her, I claim her mouth in a hard, bruising kiss, swallowing her breath, her sounds—everything—until she melts beneath me. Fuck, these lips taste almost as good as her lower pair. I tear my mouth away with a growl.
“Hands on the headboard,” I growl, positioning myself behind her.
“Yes, husband,” she moans, immediately obeying and gripping the wooden slats of our headboard as I line the head of my cock with her entrance.
I push inside in one long, slow thrust that has us both groaning. She’s tight, slick with her arousal, and so hot I fear I might burn alive inside her. Her cunt always feels like a warm, wet hug. Fucking perfection.
“Fuck,” I hiss through clenched teeth, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. “You feel so good, so perfect for me.”
