Her words were encouraging and a spark of hope settled in my chest.
“If anything,” she continued, “I would imagine these circumstances would make us stronger. That is, if you think I can handle it—because I guarantee you I can, and then some. As long as you’re beside me, I know in my heart everything will be alright.”
The spark that was lingering ignited and the flames took hold, warming me from the inside out. “Do you really mean that?”
“I really do,” she confirmed, a small smile forming.
My lips were on hers in a bruising assault before I could think another rational thought. Groaning into her mouth, we stumbled backward until her back hit the wall. Alana wrapped her arms around my neck as I pressed into her, reveling in the way she felt against me.
This. This feeling, this attraction…it was more than just lust. It was something so much more, and whatever name or title I gave it, it didn’t matter; what mattered was that it was worth fighting for. No matter what was thrown our way, I’d put my blood, sweat and tears into this. Into Alana. Because at the end of the day, she was all I wanted.
I kissed her, pouring myself into it, my relief and passion mingling in a messy storm of emotions.
It was chaotic.
It was messy.
It was desperate, the two of us communicating in a wordless language, fueled by our newfound need and desire. But as quickly as it started, it stopped.
“Over there!”
“Hurry!”
They had found us, though we weren’t exactly hiding. Alana and I broke apart and I cursed.
“Fuck. This way,” I ordered, grabbing her as we made a run for it. I had a plan and at this point, those guys wouldn’t be left in the dust—they were too close.
Turning the corner, I reeled on the handle of the delivery door of the coffee shop. We ran past a maze of supplies and boxes, emerging eventually behind the counter, garnering several confused looks.
Not once had I let my grip on Alana waiver, nor had she made a move to lessen it either.
“Stephen,” I nodded.
“Bastian,” he volleyed. “Part of your PR campaign?” he joked, though it was obvious we were on the run.
“All in a day’s work, friend!” I responded, already at the front door.
I knew the men weren’t far behind, but the sudden commotion at the shop told me everything I needed to know: Stephan had blocked them, using his training to intimidate and diffuse the situation, allowing us precious seconds to further flee.
Once we were outside, tires screeched as a vehicle halted at the curb. I opened the back door, tucking Alana’s head down and urging her inside. Climbing in, I slammed the door while Henri sped towards my apartment.
“Sir?” he asked. I had learned to read his singular words as one-word questions.
“We’re fine, thanks,” I told him. Henri was a loyal and dependable employee. His military background made him a perfect fit to be my driver, but he was more than that. He was trained not only in evasive driving, but had been in combat and served as my personal security for the last nine years.
I knew once I hadn’t returned to the SUV, he immediately tracked the GPS app on my phone. Honestly, the crime rate in the city was so low it was never much of a worry for me, though Henri was always on his game.
Safely folded into the rush hour traffic, the men were forgotten, and neither Alana or I spoke on the way to my apartment; I was too ramped up from our escape, and I was betting she was shy in front of Henri.
But the air between us was charged.
Tension rolled off me and her vibe was guarded but agitated. We were dangerously close, the heat of her body radiating toward me. Our hands rested on the seat between us, neither of us willing to close the gap and make contact.
A simple touch would be enough for me to impulsively act, ravage her in the back seat and take her rough. Alana was facing forward, a mask of stoicism. However, I kept catching her glance at me out of the corner of her eye.
Thankfully, the car came to a stop in front of the private lift entrance to my apartment. Careful to keep some distance, I exited while looking left and right for threats, though nobody had clearance except Henri and myself. Alana followed me and we waited what seemed like an eternity for the doors to open.
We had been safe from the moment we got in the car, safer yet once inside the private parking garage, and more so once we stepped inside the lift.
“Move to the corner,” I growled. She did as I said, but unsure as to why. She gripped the railing on either side and stared up at me.
“Bastian?” Her voice was shaky, seeming to not trust her impulses either.
Slowly, I placed my hands on the walls, caging her in with my body. I leaned down, grazing my lips against the lobe of her ear.
Alana whimpered, a frustrated cry escaping her mouth. Her eyes were pleading with mine, begging me to kiss her. And it’d be so easy to. “Security cameras, love. Though, I’m pleased at how eager you are,” I emphasized, pressing myself into her, groaning into the hollow of her throat.
She moaned as I began to grind against her, deciding that riding the lift was my new favorite form of foreplay.
The lift dinged and the doors opened to the foyer of my apartment and like two magnets, we were drawn to each other instantly and with such force, it surprised even me. Our bodies collided violently, knocking the breath straight out of us.
It was a frenzy of tongues battling for dominance, teeth hitting, and bruising of lips. I roughly shucked her out of her sweater, not giving a damn about the buttons that popped off from my vigor.
In turn, she attacked my shirt, pulling it out of my trousers and surprised the hell out of me when she boldly tore it open, my buttons joining hers somewhere haphazardly strewn about the floor.
The gripping ache we had for one another was equally matched, play for play, each of us disregarding the immediate physical damage we were sure to inflict on each other.
Stepping back, we sized one another up, short of breath, and both our ruined tops lying in a heap at our feet. We stared at each other, unable to break our eye contact. One by one, we discarded our remaining clothing until we stood in nothing but our underwear.
I’d obviously seen her naked from the waist up last night, but this was nothing compared to my inferior phone screen. Her chest was ample, something that was always modestly covered by her prim and proper blouses and sweater sets. A trim waist brought my eye to her hips, where I knew I’d leave marks at some point tonight, whether from driving into her from behind or holding her against the wall.
Or both.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” I said, stalking toward her.
“You’re not bad yourself, Your Highness.”
I chuckled. “All I had to do was sleep with you before you respectfully addressed me?” My voice was thick and laced with headiness.
“I wasn’t planning on being respectful tonight…”
Alana placed her hands on my chest and I knew she could feel my heart beating uncontrollably—for her. She began roaming over my pecs, feeling and learning my body. Her fingertips were sure and confident as they floated and dipped over my muscles. Her hands were small and soft, and I felt like a fucking god the more she explored me before dipping down to my waistband. But there would be none of that until I had made her come.
“Come here,” I demanded, cupping her as she jumped into my arms. Wrapping her legs around me, she settled her core over my aching cock, teasing me expertly.
“You don’t play fair, love,” I scolded, thrusting up, showing her I could play the game as well.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she pouted mockingly.
Her lush ass was in my palms and I gave her a quick little pinch. “I’ll show you fair,” I threatened as I wove through the kitchen and down the hall to my bedroom.
A chaise lounge sat close to the door, and after kicking it closed with my foot, I laid her down on the tufted piece of fur
niture. The combination of her dark hair against the gold satin gave her a regal look, and in that moment—hell, from the moment I met her—I knew she was worthy of it.
I knelt beside her, completely lost in her unassuming beauty. I wanted this moment etched in my memory forever: the moment she gave herself to me. This fiery siren chose me; she trusted me and committed herself to not only this relationship, but everything that came along with it.
And that was no easy feat. I could give her the world, make her want for nothing, but there was always the inevitable downside to my world.
Unable to wait another second, I dipped my head. I kissed up the delicate skin of her abdomen, over the rise of her ribcage until the softness of her breasts beckoned me.
Lifting her slightly, I unfastened her bra. Once freed from their lace restraints, her breasts were exquisite. Dusty rose nipples pebbled against the fullness of each globe, inviting me to taste, suck, nibble and bite them. And I planned on doing every one of those things, and then some.
“Now this is something I’ve dreamed of confirming,” I told her, taking my first taste, licking at her sensitive peak. “Goddamn,” I said hoarsely. “I’d knew you’d taste like sugar…I want to fuck your tits, and come all over them. I’m going to mark you, claim you and make you mine, Alana.”
“Oh my god. Bastian,” she moaned. Her hands went to my head, nails digging into my scalp, the sharp bite of pain sending a jolt straight to my cock.
I moved to her other breast, eager to give it fair attention. Her back arched with the sensation and I moved my hand behind her back, holding her in place as I ravaged her.
And like before, I began to trail kisses over her ribs and stomach until I came to the delicate fabric of her panties. I buried my nose greedily into her apex, relishing in her scent: heady musk and saccharine.
Alana propped herself on her elbows, watching my every move, as I took hold of her panties—and ripped them apart completely.
She raised an eyebrow. “Fair is fair, love. My shirt for these…” I reasoned with her, though I didn’t give a damn about my shirt, and was even less remorseful for her scrap of clothing. “They look better this way,” I mused, holding them up like a victory flag.
“If you’re done running your mouth, I’d prefer it be on me, Your Highness…” she quipped, impatiently.
God, she was bossy when she wanted something badly. But, being the gentleman that I was, I obliged, as much for her benefit as my own.
“Where do you want my mouth, love?” I asked as I pulled her legs over my shoulders. My gaze zeroed in on her center that was dripping and glistening and my mouth watered at the sight of it.
“I want your head between my legs, Bastian. Now.”
Yanking her closer, I gave her exactly what she wanted. I buried myself between the soft flesh of her thighs, my beard scraping her skin, all before I took my first taste.
Her back arched off the chaise as I took my first long, decadent lick. And I was done. I’d never get enough of her, of this. I continued to lick her, circling her clit until I could feel her on the verge of tensing.
I didn’t go slow.
I didn’t go softly.
I was a fucking savage, getting as much pleasure as I was giving.
And I didn’t let up even as Alana’s orgasm rocked her suddenly, her body quaking around me.
“Bastian!” she cried. “Oh god…”
Once I was sure she had ridden out every blissful wave, I leaned back, licking my lips in satisfaction. “I knew you’d come around,” I said confidently.
Her head lolled to the side, satiated in a lust-induced state. “Hmmm?”
“Don’t you remember?” I asked, sliding my briefs off. “When we first met, you said I wasn’t god-like, but I now know that you disagree.”
Alana sat up suddenly ready with a rebuttal, but before she could I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her onto my lap, my thick, aching cock nestled between us, throbbing with need.
The deft movement was quick enough to surprise her and elicit a yelp, her smart-ass retort all but forgotten.
Holding the flesh at her sides, I dug my fingers in, threatening to leave marks, and I began to move her over my length, her slickness beginning to coat me.
“Please,” she begged, writhing against me.
I let up, and with her hovering above me, I positioned myself at her entrance. She lowered herself onto my steely length slowly.
She was so wet.
So hot.
So tight.
And so fucking sexy.
I couldn’t handle it anymore and before she could sink the entire way down, I thrust into her until we were completely joined, the tip of my head impossibly deep.
“Fuuck,” I hissed, locking my eyes with her.
“Fuck, is right,” she agreed. It was the first time I heard her swear, and I was pretty sure I liked it.
When she had adjusted to my size, I began to move instinctively. Alana’s nails dug into my shoulders, holding on as I drove into her over and over.
“You’re going to come all over my cock, do you understand?”
“Yes, oh god, yes!” she cried between each thrust. Her chest bounced with our movements, and I leaned down and took a nipple in my mouth, biting it earnestly.
In turn, she clenched, her muscles squeezing and torturing me all at once.
I stood suddenly, keeping us connected and moved to the bed. We fell in a heap, a tangled mess of sweaty skin and disheveled hair.
Moving over her to gain better purchase, I leaned down, caging her once more with my arms. Slowly, I began to move again, with her matching each grueling stroke.
The room filled with sounds of skin slapping, moans of pleasure and explicit words.
My biceps bulged with each thrust.
Her nails scraped my back.
Then she moved her hands to my ass, pulling me in as if we weren’t close enough, like I couldn’t get deep enough.
And I picked up the pace, our slickness driving me, her scorching heat stoking the flames.
“I’m so close,” Alana said.
I was too. I reached between us and circled her clit with my thumb. She whimpered at the contact and I began to feel the pressure build in my spine.
“Bastian, harder…”
My hips were pistons, unrelenting as each stroke brought us closer and closer until finally, blissfully, we reached the edge together, tumbling and freefalling before finding solid ground once more.
I poured into her with a blinding intensity I’d never experienced before. Stars dotted my vision, my head feeling light.
I remained above her, frozen in place, catching my breath and urging the smallest amount of oxygen to return to my brain.
We stared at each other, sweaty and fulfilled, the scent of her perfume heightened from our exertion.
Burying my face in her neck, I inhaled the floral scent of gardenia, knowing I’d always associate it with Alana and sex.
“I’m afraid I’m addicted to you,” I murmured against her neck. She felt too good, tasted too good. I pulled out of her, rather hesitantly, and collapsed against the mound of pillows, my arm out in invitation.
I was never one for cuddling much after sex, but when Alana situated herself against my side, her head in the crook of my shoulder, nothing had ever felt more right.
She sighed, “That makes two of us then.” Alana lazed her fingers over chest lightly, the sensation creating goosebumps. “Bastian, that was…I don’t even know. Incredible? That seems so lackluster in comparison.”
I was grappling with the proper description as well, unable to put in words what we just experienced. “How about fucking fantastic?” I offered, resorting to a simple-minded answer.
“Are you always so eloquent?” she teased.
“Ah, you should know that by now, Sugar Tits,” I replied, tweaking a nipple as I answered her. I felt myself getting hard again from the gesture.
She slapped my chest playfully. “You
’re never going to let that go, are you?” She was terrible at feigning annoyance.
“Never. First off, you like it when I call you that—don’t deny it because I won’t believe you. And secondly, it’s an accurate moniker. You taste divine.”
She grew tense in my arms suddenly.
“What is it?” I asked.
Her fingers stopped their perusal, and she laid her hand against me. “It’s just that, well, it’s a little late to have this conversation, and I’ve never been one to be so careless,” she began, “but, uh, we didn’t use a condom. I’m on birth control, so maybe that’s why I disregarded things so easily.”
Like her, I had been utterly lost in the moment, and never once had I been so negligent. In the past, preventative measures were always a prerequisite conversation, and usually I wore a condom even if someone was on the pill. I was relieved to hear she was on a contraceptive, her being the responsible one in this situation.
“Alana…I’m sorry,” I apologized, explaining my lack of judgement. “There’s no excuse for me not asking.”
Propping herself on her elbow, she regarded me, her hair mussed and falling in her face. “We’re both at fault, but instead of getting hung up on that, I’ll settle for you admitting that I’m the smart one in this relationship.” She gave me a coy smile, feeling victorious with her assumption.
“You are,” I agreed without hesitation. “You’re intelligent, beautifully nerdy, and you’re a bit of a smart ass.” They were all true statements and affectionate compliments.
This time, she sat up and crossed her arms defensively. “I am not a smart ass.”
“Oh, love, you are. And you’re a bit prickly sometimes too,” I egged her on, enjoying the beautiful flush that was creeping up her chest.
“Hmmf!” she protested, a strand of hair being puffed out of her face from the exhalation. “Well, you’re…you’re…annoying!” she accused.
“Annoying? That’s the best you can do?” I asked, propping an arm under my head, reclining further.
“You’re pompous!” she said heatedly. “In fact,” she said, hitting her stride and pointing a finger at me, “you wanted to know what I saved you as in my phone? That’s it: ‘Pompous Prince’.” She settled back slightly, pleased with her jab, the smugness on her face doing nothing but turn me on.
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