“You’re really that worried? It’s the middle of the night. No one will see me.”
“I can’t be too careful, Goldi. I’m going through a nasty divorce. I wouldn’t put it past Nadine to have hired a PI to dig up dirt on me.”
It hits me then how much Alistair is risking to be with me. The notion brings conflicting feelings into my heart. He can lose his career, his reputation.
I put the hoodie on, swallowed up immediately by the excess of fabric. Once I pull the hood over my head, you can’t see my face at all. Well, I can barely see, that’s for sure.
Satisfied that there’s not a chance in hell I can be identified, we both get out of the car. He motions for me to walk ahead of him, as if he’s afraid I’ll get attacked. I’ve never dated a guy who wanted to protect me so fiercely, and it feels nice. I think he’d have turned Phillip into mush if he had indeed hurt me.
Alistair’s home is a mix of modern and rough, just like him. The exposed brick fireplace works well with the contemporary fixtures and the few pieces of decoration. The L-shaped couch is plush and inviting in a deep brown color. I take in the open living space with a quick glance, noticing the absence of something vital to me.
“You don’t own a TV?” I ask.
“I don’t have cable.”
“So, you’re not the typical American guy who watches Sunday Night Football?”
Alistair smirks. “I don’t hate football, but I usually prefer to watch it at a sports bar.”
“What about movies?”
He grabs a remote control from the end table, and with the push of a button, a home theater screen descends from the ceiling.
“Okay, it’s official. I’m never leaving your house.”
Alistair laughs. “I’m more than okay with that, but I’m afraid that if you’re here—” He hugs me from behind and kisses my neck. “—we wouldn’t have much time for movies.”
I lean against him, loving the feel of his virile body against mine. He keeps placing soft kisses on my neck as his right hand disappears through the elastic band of my skirt. He cups my breast with his other hand, making me moan like a kitten. When his fingers find their way to my core, my legs turn to jelly.
“I love how wet you get for me, Goldi.”
I reach back, trying to touch his erection as well. I manage, but through his pants, I doubt he can feel much.
With a growl, Alistair pushes me against the back of the couch, pulling my skirt up and my tights and panties down. I don’t mind the roughness. I love it. His cock teases at my entrance, and I try to move closer.
With one arm still wrapped around my chest, he whispers in my ear, “I want to take you hard, Goldi. Is that okay?”
“Yes.” I arch my back, wanting—no, needing more contact.
He rams into me, and I cry out. He pauses immediately. “Chiara?”
“Why did you stop?”
“I thought I hurt you.”
“You’re hurting me right now with all this talking.”
He chuckles against my ear before thrusting his hips against mine, harder than before. With every pump, he sends me higher and higher, and I know it’s the same for him. He bites my shoulder, and that sends me right over the edge. I cry as loud as I can, not worrying for once about neighbors or school staff overhearing us.
“Chiara, fuck!” Alistair says right before he climaxes as well.
I clench my internal walls, milking his orgasm and mine. With a final thrust, he shudders against my neck. My heart feels like it’s about to explode with the way it’s hammering inside my chest. When he pulls out, I feel empty.
“Don’t move. I’ll be right back,” he says.
I twist my neck to see where he’s going. “You do realize this is a very awkward position, right?”
He returns a second later with a washcloth in his hand. “I find it a very appealing position.”
Like he did before in his office, Alistair cleans the mess he left behind. I moan when he wipes my clit. I’m still so sensitive there. He moves the cloth away, down my legs, but I want him to go back to my bundle of nerves. I grab his wrist and bring his hand to my pussy again.
“I’m still dirty there.”
“Oh yeah?”
He rubs the cloth over my clit again, and I open my legs wider to grant him better access. I must look ridiculous with my ass up in the air like this, but with Alistair, I don’t feel ashamed. His hand moves away, and I open my mouth to complain, but it dies in my throat when his warm tongue replaces the cloth.
Madonna santa. This feels so good.
Alistair said I was a magician back in the car, but he’s the one with the magical tongue. He licks and sucks, drinking my juices with gusto as he goes. It doesn’t take long for me to come again. By the time he’s done, I can’t so much as move a muscle. I’m boneless as I sink against the couch, content to fall asleep just like this.
“Goldi, are you still with me?”
“Yeah, give me a minute. I’m trying to recover.”
I hear him unfurl from his crouch, but I don’t move. I let out a soft yelp when he lifts me up and carries me across the room. That’s the only sound I make before I wrap my arms around his neck and snuggle against his chest.
If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.
