With my legs mounted on his shoulders, he lifted my hips higher, his tongue plunging deeper between my folds, drawing out moans that shook my core. His fingers thrusting in and out of me, harder and faster, building the pressure until the tight ball inside me finally shattered. Spilling over in a fierce release.
I gripped the cotton sheets above me, coming hard on his tongue and his fingers, every nerve ignited. But he didn't stop. He drank me down like I was his only sustenance, tasting every inch.
"Fuck," I gasped.
But I didn't have time to catch my breath before his lips crashed onto mine, fierce and claiming.
I could taste myself on him, and that only fueled my hunger, making me even more desperate for him. My hands tangled in his dark hair, pulling him closer, wild and desperate, while he held my legs captive, still mounted on his shoulders.
"No one could ever make you come like this," he hissed, his voice ragged and raw as he lined himself at my entrance. "No one but me."
A sharp gasp tore out of me when he finally thrusted into me. I could feel every inch of him, stretching my walls.
My back arched, fingers digging into the sheets like they were the only thing holding me together, as he began to move. Deliberately slow.
Those green eyes of his locked on mine, burning with possession. "Keep your eyes on me, Isla," he commanded, his hands tightening around my neck until all I could feel was him. Driving in and out of me. Harder. Deeper.
"I want you to see who you belong to, even when you're fighting it."
"Then go faster," I gasped, my legs trembling, hands reaching for his hips, desperate to pull him deeper, faster. But his grip closed tighter around my wrists, holding me still.
His pace didn't quicken, but every thrust plunged deeper, stretching and filling me in ways that stole my breath.
"So impatient," he growled, a wicked grin tugging at his lips. "Do you want me to go faster?"
I nodded, too eager to care about anything but the desperate need building inside me.
He leaned down, lips brushing my ear as he moved. "Then tell me, who am I to you? Say it, and I'll give you what you need. And more."
I could've said anything. Captor. Tormentor. Stalker. The words lined up sharp and ready on my tongue. But I knew none of them were what he wanted. No, he wanted that one word that proved he still lived somewhere under my skin, no matter how hard I tried to tear him out.
The one that made my breath hitch, and my chest splinter open.
"Come on," he urged, kissing the corner of my lips with a tenderness that only made the tension between us sharper. "You know what I want."
"Fuck, Alex," I cried out the moment he stopped moving, though I could still every inch of him pressing deep inside me, refusing to move. I need more. I need him. "Please."
"The magic word."
"Husband," I bit out, my voice rough and desperate. I was practically begging at this point.
Only then did he start moving again. Not faster, but harder, deeper, driving into me in a way that stole my breath. And the more I resisted, the tighter his grip on my wrists became, forcing me to feel nothing but him.
"Who's your husband?" he taunted, the grin clear in his voice. I wanted to slap that cocky smile right off of him.
"You."
"Who?"
"You, Alex," I snapped through clenched teeth, moaning when he finally found the rhythm I craved. "You're my husband."
"Damn right I am," he growled, thrusting into me with a brutal, unyielding rhythm. Deeper, harder, fasted. He was claiming every inch of me, as if I was his only world.
I gripped the sheets above, my knuckles white, holding on as he drove into me with a relentless fire. The room shrank to this moment. From the wet, urgent sounds of our bodies colliding, the harsh clatter of the metal bed frame banging the wall, his ragged breaths catching every time he withdrew, only to slam back in with fierce determination.
I couldn't handle it anymore.
It was raw. It was real. Freedom in its purest form. Every stroke burned a mark on my soul, every gasp tethered me closer to him. We weren't just bodies, clashing. It felt like a storm. Fierce and blazing, unashamed and alive.
And when he finally spiraled over the edge, shattering into me with a fierce growl, it was as if the world had exploded around us. I followed soon after, falling into the chaos of sensation and surrender. Our hearts beating in desperate, perfect unison.
When it was over, he slipped my legs off his shoulders with tender care, laying them gently back on the bed. I felt the slick withdrawal between us, a sharp ache settling in when he pulled out of me. I trembled slightly from the sudden emptiness, but quickly swallowed the words that begged to spill out.
Don't go.
Alex pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "I'll grab some towels," he murmured before slipping toward the bathroom.
The sound of water splashing from the sink echoed through the quiet room as I struggled to come down from the high. The fierce love still thrumming beneath my skin, tangled with a gnawing fear deep in my gut. What had I done?
There was no turning back now. This path was mine to walk, and I would stand by it.
Alex was right. I couldn't imagine marrying anyone else. But with Dario, I was willing to try. No matter how wrong it had felt, even with my memories gone. For my family's sake, I had to try.
But maybe, maybe what Alex suggested could've worked. I just didn't know if the others would accept it. Or if I could fully trust him not to turn on me.
I believed it when he said he loved me. But he had also deceived me for years. Made me believe he was someone else, and I didn't know if we could ever come back from that.
He had hurt me, too.
"What are you thinking?" he asked as he stepped back into the bedroom, a warm towel in his hand, moving slowly toward the bed.
I propped myself up on my elbows, eyes fixed on him as he carefully rubbed the towel between my legs. The gentle warmth easing my soreness while I watched him. He was still naked, his hair tousled, lips swollen from our kiss. He had never looked more unbearably handsome. Mine.
"Nothing," I whispered, shaking my head, biting my lip as my gaze drifted to the window, hidden behind the heavy curtain. I used to leave a tiny crack open, just to watch the night slip away and let the morning sun spill softly into my room.
"You've got that faraway look," he said, dropping the towel to the floor before climbing back onto the bed. His hands cradled my head, his body settling over mine. "I don't believe it."
"I'm just tired," I murmured, my fingers tracing the line of his cheek, wondering how someone like him could love someone like me.
He pressed his forehead against mine, those lips brushing softly over my own. "One day, every thought you have will be mine. I'll carry your burdens, your fears. You won't want for anything."
"That sounds perfect," I breathed, my eyes fluttering closed as he wrapped me in his arms, the world fading away until there was no one but us.