~Alistair's POV~
The Montclair family home wasn't the kind of place people casually called a house.
It was a private estate rising four levels high, each floor designed with intention glass, stone, and clean modern lines blending seamlessly into something both elegant and intimidating. From the outside, it looked calm. From the inside, it told a very different story.
Tonight a party was being held on the rooftop, the top level of the estate, where music drifted into the night and laughter carried easily over the pool. Guests moved in loose clusters, glasses catching the light, conversations blending into one soft, constant hum.
My mother-in-law organized everything, as she always did, turning a simple get-together into something effortlessly extravagant.
I had just taken a sip of my drink when I felt a presence behind me.
"Come here."
Alexander's voice was low, meant only for me.
I turned slightly, enough to see my husband standing close, his hand resting at my lower back. His expression was calm, but his eyes told me this wasn't a casual request.
"Follow me," he murmured, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed my ear. "I want you somewhere quieter."
The music swelled behind us as he guided me away from the crowd, past open glass doors, and down a dimly lit corridor of the house. The farther we moved from the rooftop, the more the noise faded, until all that remained was the sound of our footsteps and the tension between us.
The moment we stepped into the bedroom and the door clicked shut, the "gentle" Alexander disappeared.
He didn't give me a chance to breathe, let alone speak.
He moved with a sudden, focused intent, capturing my lips in a kiss that tasted of suppressed hunger. Before I could find my footing, he guided me backward until I landed against the wall, my palms pressing flat against the cool surface for support.
He buried his face in the curve of my neck, his lips latching onto my skin as he began to suck and kiss the sensitive curve of my throat.
Then, he took my hand in his, guiding my fingers down until he slipped them inside his trousers. The moment my skin met his, the sheer heat and hardness of him made my breath hitch. I knew then that this wasn't an itch that would be easily scratched, it was a deep, driving need.
The timing was all wrong.
"Babe, stop," I murmured, my voice trembling with the effort to be firm. "We can't do this here."
"Please, honey," he said gently against my pulse. "Let's do it."
"No, Alex, this is your mother's party. You know how bad it would get if she noticed we were missing in the middle of all those people."
He pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with a desperate, quiet longing. "Please, babe. I'm so hard. I can't think about anything else."
I looked at him, my heart aching at the vulnerability in his gaze. "I understand, I really do. But let's wait until after the party, okay?"
I looked at him, my heart aching at the vulnerability in his gaze. "I understand, I really do. But let's wait until after the party, okay?"
Alexander hesitated, then slowly pulled back. He gave a small, resigned nod.
"Alright," he murmured, his tone gentle as he regained his restraint. "You should leave first? I'll come find you after I've calmed down."
I turned to go, but as I reached the door, I looked back. Seeing him standing there alone, trying so hard to compose himself and suppress his desire for the sake of appearances, made my resolve crumble. I couldn't just leave him like that.
I walked back to him and took a breath.
"Fine, but we have to be quick, babe," I whispered. "I don't want your mom to notice we're gone before we get back. It's her party, and it's only just starting"
Alexander's expression softened with relief.
"I understand, honey," he promised, his voice thick with gratitude. "I'll be quick."
He stepped back into my space, his lips finding the sensitive skin of my neck once more, his touch becoming a silent thank you as the world outside the bedroom door finally faded away.
He kissed me deeply, his hands coming up to cradle my head, anchoring me against him. His breath mingled with mine as his tongue traced every corner, unhurried and warm.
I knew my husband, I knew how much he loved to take his time, savoring every inch of romance before things turned intense. But tonight, time was a luxury we didn't have.
Moving with urgency, I reached down and unfastened his trousers. I pulled his boxers aside, letting his thick, hardened cock spring free. The sight, and the feel, of him, already so ready for me, made my heart hammer against my ribs.
I took my husband's cock inside my mouth and sucked him with the kind of intensity and satisfaction he always loved, giving him everything he wanted.
I used my tongue and my throat to worship him just the way he liked it. Within just a few minutes of that desperate, hurried heat, Alex reached his limit.
He drove himself deep into my mouth, sliding deep one last time as he released a hot, heavy, and incredibly sexy load down my throat.
But he wasn't finished with me.
The moment he pulled out of my mouth, Alex immediately told me to turn around. I obeyed, and he reached down, dragging my trousers to my ankles. He spit on his hand for lubrication and, without wasting a second, he slid himself deep inside me.
It was intense, the kind of raw, desperate sex we only had when the pressure of his family became too much. He pounded into me with a rhythmic, heavy force that made the walls feel like they were closing in.
It was brief, but satisfying. Whether it was a long night or a stolen moment like this, what we shared was always intense.
When he finally hit his peak and emptied himself inside me, he stayed there for a second, his weight heavy against my back. Finally, he pulled out of me.
I forced myself to calm down as I cleaned up, my hands still shaking. "Let's go back now," I murmured. "Before your mother notices we've been gone too long."
Alexander was still catching his breath, shoulders rising and falling as he leaned briefly against the wall. After a moment, he pulled himself together, smoothing his clothes and carefully burying any trace of what had just passed between us.
We composed ourselves, stepped out of the room, and returned to the party as though nothing had happened.
The moment we re-entered the room, my mother-in-law's eyes locked onto us. She walked straight to her son, ignoring me entirely.
"Baby, where have you been?" she asked, her voice dripping with artificial concern.
Alex glanced at me briefly before looking away. I felt a surge of resentment; I had warned him this would happen. I stood there, the soft music of the party feeling like a mockery of my frustration.
"Poor you, baby," she said lightly, her eyes darting to me with a sharp, judgmental edge. "Do you have any energy left?"
I knew exactly what she was implying. Ever since she had accidentally witnessed the aftermath of one of our intense nights, she had decided that I was the one exhausting her son, that I was "too much" for him. She never considered that it was her son who constantly craved me.
Before Alex could offer an excuse, she made her move. "You're staying here for the weekend," she decided. "I need to take care of you properly."
I looked at my husband, my heart pleading with him to say no, to tell her we had plans, to tell her we were going home.
"It's okay, Mom," he said quietly.
I felt a sharp sting of betrayal. It's okay, Mom. As soon as she drifted away to attend to her friends, I turned on him, my voice a sharp whisper.
"I have no problem staying," I hissed, "but don't you dare bring that cock anywhere near me for the next two days."
Alex looked at me, his expression full of that confused, gentle innocence. "Babe, why are you angry?"
"Stop it," I snapped, the annoyance bubbling over.