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As she was coming back down to earth, she heard him rip open a condom. Moments later, he lifted her hips and placed his cock at her entrance. There was no talking, no sounds other than their kisses as he lowered her down onto his erection.
He held onto her hips, guiding her movements. Time slowed and all her nerve endings felt as if they were right below the surface of her skin. She could feel the air around them brushing against her flesh. It was so much cooler than the heat, the fire, she felt inside.
She had no idea how long they rocked back and forth, grinding against one another. He kept her on the brink without allowing her to fall over the cliff for what felt like forever, but she didn’t mind. He seemed to need this as much as he’d needed to flog her earlier. And to be honest, she needed it as well. Things were shifting between them. It had been happening for a while, since the beginning really, but she’d been resisting it. But this. Here. Now. There was no way to pretend. Somehow, Alexander had pushed past all her walls.
Eventually, he flipped them over so he was pressing her into the mattress, but he refused to pick up the pace. He hiked her leg up over his hip, changing the angle. The new position had her digging her nails into his shoulders. She wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer.
He must have been able to read her mind because he reached between them and pinched her nipple. Hard. “Don’t you dare come. Not yet.”
A whimper escaped her. Grace gritted her teeth, hoping she could stave off her orgasm. She didn’t want to disappoint him.
The exquisite torture went on until she saw sweat beading on Alexander’s temples. It was obvious he was trying to hold his own climax at bay. “Sir, are you okay?”
He met her gaze, took hold of the side of her head, and kissed her. “I’m fine. Just enjoying fucking my submissive. I can’t seem to get enough of her no matter how many times I’m inside her. Or for how long.”
Her pussy liked that and responded by tightening around him, trying its best to hold him deep.
Alexander propped himself up on one elbow, but didn’t stop the gentle torture as he continued to move his hips in and out. He ran his index finger along the curve of her neck and her mind immediately went to what was missing. His gaze locked with hers. “I want you to wear my collar. The next time we go to Serpent’s Kiss, I want my collar around your neck, letting everyone there know you’re mine.”
She swallowed, a flood of emotions surging through her body. He watched her face and waited for her answer. The answer was easy. Despite her back and forth, her uncertainty that whether or not what she felt for him was right, this thing between them was real. She felt it every time he touched her—every time she thought about him. “I would be honored to wear your collar, Sir.”
He took hold of the side of her face, tilted her head back, and kissed her hard. “I will make sure you don’t regret it, gattina. I promise.”
Alexander didn’t give her a chance to answer as he continued to kiss her with abandon. As his tongue danced in her mouth, his hips increased their rhythm. She held on, lifting her hips to meet each of his thrusts.
Snaking his hand down over her breast and along her side, he splayed his hand on her hip. He eased his thumb between them, placing it over her clit. The sensation was too much to bear. Her head fell back and her muscles contracted around him in a vise grip. She was panting, desperate to come. Her heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest.
“Do you wish to come, gattina?”
She could barely get the words out. “Yes, Sir.”
“I do like seeing you like this, so close and trying not to come without permission.”
He brushed his thumb over her clit again and she jerked. Not because she didn’t want him to touch her, but because he was right. She was about ready to blow whether she wanted to or not.
Alexander scraped his teeth against her neck as he placed gentle pressure against her clit once more. “Come for me.”
As he offered his permission, he bit down on her neck, sucking the skin into his mouth. At the same time, he picked up his assault on her clit and began pistoning in and out of her deeper, harder. It was too much. She screamed as her climax hit her like a freight train.
Seconds later, while she was still riding out her own orgasm, she heard Alexander grunt as he reached his own climax. His entire body shook as he emptied himself inside her, letting her know that his reaction to their extended joining had been as powerful for him as it had been for her.
He peeked up at her through his lashes, a satisfied smile on his face. “We will definitely be doing that again.”
Maybe it was the look on his face or maybe it was the fact that her emotions were still so close to the surface after what they’d done, but she started laughing. A concerned look crossed his face for a moment before he decided to join her.
***
Alexander woke up drenched in sweat. After he’d regained consciousness in the hospital, he’d suffered from frequent nightmares. They were vivid and terrifying. It was always the same. He was trapped, his leg pinned down, preventing him from moving more than a few inches, while he watched his buddies get picked off one by one. He could see all their faces—the look in their eyes the moment they realized their fate—and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
As his body recovered, he’d also worked on healing his mind as well. He’d talked to one of the VA shrinks a few times and wrote down everything he could remember in a journal. It had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done in his life, but he knew that if he didn’t face it head on that it would slowly destroy him. But dealing with the realities of PTSD was a lot different than reading about it in a medical journal.
He took several deep breaths, trying to calm his heart. It had been months since he’d had one this bad. And usually he could take a few moments to center himself and he’d be okay. For some reason, that wasn’t happening this time.
Careful not to wake Grace, he climbed out of bed and made his way into the bathroom. He felt hot and cold at the same time. It was unsettling, but rationally he knew it was most likely the difference in his internal temperature and the cooler air hitting his sweat-covered body.
The logical part of his brain forced him to turn on the shower and get under the spray. As the warm water fell against his skin and the steam filled his lungs, he began to breathe a bit easier. He reached for the soap and began working the latter between his hands, taking his time washing his body.
By the time he turned off the water and reached for one of Grace’s towels, he was feeling somewhat normal again. Or as normal as he ever felt these days.
