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I do, licking him clean and wiping at my mouth. He helps me stand up, drying me with the towel he ripped off of me mere minutes before.
“Now, spread your legs and let me feel how soaked you are for me.” He doesn’t even give me a chance to obey, slapping my inner thighs apart.
I gasp at the feeling of his fingers slipping through my folds. He thrusts two fingers into me, and my eyes roll back into my head.
“Just as I thought.” He bites my neck softly. “Unfortunately, dinner will be here momentarily. Be good, and maybe I’ll eat you for dessert.”
The sound that leaves my mouth is unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. Desperate, raw. Needy. My core aches at the loss of him.
Alexander’s eyes follow my movements as he licks his fingers. I wrap the towel tightly around myself, walking on wobbly knees back into the bedroom. Clothes. I need clothes. Some type of barrier between the two of us.
There’s a knock on the door, and Alexander brushes past me. I grab my bag and scamper back into the bathroom before someone sees me shivering in a towel.
Quickly, I throw on clothes, well aware that they probably won’t be on me for much longer. I try to brush out my tangled hair. Anything to try to soften the crazed look in my eyes.
God, how does he pull me apart like this? Aren’t I supposed to be angry at him?
But as I move back into the bedroom, there’s no anger, just want.
A tray holding two plates sits on the bed, along with Alexander. He’s sipping a glass of wine, leaning back on one hand, gazing at me.
He has that look on his face again. The one I can’t quite figure out.
“Stop looking at me like that.” I throw my bag onto the floor and climb up onto the bed.
“Then stop making me want to fuck you on every surface in this house.” His stare glides over my legs, to my shorts and tank top. “I told you that first night, Sophia. I want to see you in my house. Clothed. Naked. In nothing but heels. I want to watch you fuck yourself and come from every angle, and then take you as mine until you can’t walk. In every room. On every surface. Every day.”
I can feel my cheeks heating. Looking down, I grab my own glass of wine and take a sip. He already has my body wound up and begging for him. Why does he insist on torturing me more?
“You’d better hurry up if you want a piece of me. Don’t forget about my meeting.”
I straighten, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. It’s almost four. With a bashful glance at Alexander, I grab my fork and start shoving food into my mouth.
Flavor explodes on my tongue. The dish looks like simple pasta, but it tastes amazing. Garlic and herbs dance in my mouth, and I let out a moan.
Alexander grins, and the sight of pure happiness on his face shocks me. “Anna is a ridiculously good cook.”
I nod in agreement, taking another bite and savoring the delicious cheese sauce. Alexander continues watching me, and I do my best not to squirm.
When I finish, he reaches out, wiping away sauce from my bottom lip with his thumb. Then, silently, he picks up the tray and carries it to the dresser.
My heart picks up its pace. But he doesn’t turn to me. Instead, he disappears through a door—presumably to his closet.
He comes out holding a dark blue off-the-shoulder gown. Fabric spills from his arms, silver embroidery on the skirt glistening in the light.
“We should make sure this fits you.”
I let out a short breath of disappointment, but strip quickly. He helps me get the dress on, zipping it up—but not before leaving a trail of kisses up my spine.
He stops partway up, pushing the dress out of the way. His fingers brush against the right side of my back, and then his lips press to the spot of my tattoo.
Little bird.
I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror he leads me to. Even with no makeup and still-tangled hair, I look like a princess.
My shoulders look sexy as hell, and so does my collarbone. A small necklace would look perfect dangling from my neck.
Alexander’s hands slip over the shiny fabric hugging my waist before flaring out at my hips. I turn to face him, the layers of fabric swishing against the floor.
