Page 5 of Under His Protection

“Oh, yes, Alexander,” I murmur, my eyes locking with his, a fierce heat igniting in their depths. He needs this. I see it in the way his eyes darken, and his jaw tightens. And I need this.

He tears my dress in half, a sharp rip of silk, and growls in satisfaction at the sight of my exposed nipples, stiff and swollen from his touch. The air hangs with the scent of musk and something darker, something primal. I press my body against his.

He throws his clothes aside, his cock a hard, pulsing fist. The sight of him, so raw, so powerful, sends a wave of heat crashing through me. His hands grip my hips, pulling me closer, his voice a rough whisper in my ear. “You’ll take me in your mouth now, Ava,” he demands, a possessive gleam in his eyes, “And you’ll be a good girl and take all of it without complaining.”

He pushes me down on all fours, his other hand grabbing my hair, pulling it tight, forcing my mouth onto his throbbing length. The taste of him is raw and powerful, the scent of his sweat and desire intoxicating. I circle my tongue around the head of his cock, my body trembling with fear and excitement.

The world shrinks to just the two of us, the heat of our bodies, the taste of him, the throbbing rhythm of our sweaty bodies.

I gag, the sudden invasion of his flesh a jolt of unexpected rapture. He shoves himself deeper, his thick cock filling my mouth. The taste of him is exquisite.

Oh, yes.

He slams into my mouth again and again, his rhythm relentless, his cock thickening with each thrust. I try to pull away, but he pins me down, his hand a vise around my hair, his cock pounding against the back of my throat.

He pulls out abruptly, “Are you wet, Ava? Is your pussy ready for me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer.

I nod, my breath ragged, “I’m ready for you,” I moan with a wave of need.

He lifts me, his grip firm, his gaze locked on me. He turns me over, slamming his hand against my ass, the impact sending a sharp pain shooting through me. He thrusts into me, his cock a hot force hammering into me. I cry out, a blend of pain and pleasure, as he pounds into me again and again.

The only sound is our skin slapping together as he fucks me hard on all four.

“Oh, yes, yes,” I moan, my body arching against him, the feeling of his thick cock filling me up, the friction of my breasts against the couch fills me with delight.

“Be quiet,” he growls, his voice deeper, darker than usual, a warning. The thought of the Raven, of another man, hearing us, makes my blood run cold. My clit throbs, aching for his touch.

Fuck, this is hot.

He slams into me, a violent, unrelenting force. “I want to tear you up, Ava,” he growls, his breath hot against my ear, “You’re so damn wet, I can’t get enough of you. Fuck.”

His hand finds my clit, rubbing it with force, the pleasure sharp and raw. I grit my teeth, the pain a potent mix with the building pleasure, a storm of sensations raging inside me. His other hand, rough and demanding, tears at my nipple, but it only intensifies my pleasure.

He thrusts into me again, harder, deeper. He’s a whirlwind of need and power, and I’m caught in the eye of the storm. “Alexander— oh— shit—-fuck,” I cry out. My body is filled to the brink with delight and pain.

“You like that? You like being fucked senseless, being used by me?” he demands.

“Yes,” I whimper, my voice breathless, as I feel his weight crushing me, his cock impaling me forcefully.

He pushes two fingers inside my tight hole, a sudden, unexpected invasion that sets me off. My body tenses, the pleasure building unbearably.

As I detonate, my body convulses as pure, unadulterated bliss crashes over me, a tidal wave that leaves me breathless. I feel his hot, thick cum inside of me, a searing, pulsating feeling that explodes within my core. His hand, a savage, slaps my clit one last time, a final jolt that sends me spiraling into a vortex of colors.

“Ava,” he breathes, his voice a rough caress against my ear, “You’re so damn perfect.” His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, his body a warm, insistent pressure against mine. We tumble onto the soft carpet.

I lie beneath him, his weight on me, his scent, sharp and untamed, filling my senses. His words whispered against my skin are a symphony, not of music, but of primal and raw emotion.

I love him with a burning desire that can not be tamed. Ever.

Chapter 3

The Raving Thoughts

The Spectrum Design Studio hums with low electric energy. The usual clicks and clacks, punctuated by the murmur of hushed conversations, are muted today. It feels like the vibrant world of color and creative energy has been drained of its lifeblood, leaving behind a pale, anemic shell.

I look up from the keyboard. The acrid scent of stale coffee hangs in the air, unlike the usual burst of fresh-brewed energy. The soft hum of the computer fans drones in my ears, a digital world that feels far away from the thoughts whipping up a storm inside me. Even the Beethoven track I've got playing through my earphones, usually my sanctuary, can't penetrate the fog of my thoughts.

My fingers hover over the keyboard, paralyzed. The words for the new campaign, words that usually flow like paint from my brush, feel trapped in quicksand. Last night’s intoxicating blend of bodies replays in my mind like a broken record. A delicious, hot, jazzy soundtrack on repeat. I can still feel the heat of his body pressed against mine, the taste of his lips, and the raw urgency of his need. The way Alexander’s hands moved over me, tracing the curves of my body with a touch that ignites a wildfire within.

---