Page 39 of Alliance

“Here.” Naz removes one hand, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a joint and a lighter. “Have you smoked before?”

My mouth waters at the sight, but I shake my head. I’ve never smoked, I was far too good to go down that road. But now? The idea of blurring my mind is intoxicating. Just something to loosen me a bit, the pot lets the thoughts and obligations weighing on me feel a little lighter.

I spin to face him, and he takes back his other hand, using it to hold the joint while he lights it with the other. I watch him intently as he brings the pot to his lips, inhaling the smoke before blowing out a white cloud.

“You don’t have to,” he says as he extends the joint to me.

I know I don’t have to, but I want to. What a difference between those two words. Have versus want. Ihaveto do a lot of things, like marry a man who makes me sick to my stomach. But Iwantto be here, on this rooftop, smoking with Naz.

I bring the joint to my lips, pulling just a bit of smoke before I cough it out. I don’t smoke nearly as smooth as he does, and he chuckles as he takes the joint back from me to take another hit.

Under the moonlight, his dark eyes sparkle as they watch me. After another hit, my body is lighter and the faint sound of the music feels intoxicating. I want to dance, and I feel my body swaying to the rhythm. Naz’s arms find my waist and he sways with me.

Warmth. I feel it again, traveling up my spine and coating me in a sweet sensation. Everything feels right with him. I smile more than I ever have, my heart beats with excitement. I can’t help the laughter that escapes my lips as he dips me low, then pulls me back up and presses his lips to mine.

My heart flutters, my nerve endings light up.

His fingers travel under the loose sweatshirt, roaming on my skin until they find my tits. At the same time I run my hands over his tattooed forearms, traveling lower to the waistband of his sweats and dipping beneath the band.

“What if someone comes up here?” I ask through breathy pants.

“What if?” he repeats, a devilish smirk on his lips.

The statement excites me. What if we get caught? It won’t really matter, will it?

Because at the end of the day, we can’t be together.

At some point, this will all come crashing down to a fiery ending.

But right now, we’re here.

Our bodies are intertwined, our hearts racing in tandem. So what if this won’t last, if it all has to come to an end. Right now, I want this. So I drop down to my knees, letting them hit the rough cement that covers the rooftop. I pull his cock free from the sweatpants, it’s hard and thick waiting for me.

A moan leaves his lips as soon as my tongue touches the head of his cock. I lick up his length, tasting every inch of his shaft.

“Fuck,” he moans, and I take pride in the sounds I elicit from him. “Come here,” he growls, pulling me from his cock with a pop and lifting me up. He takes me over to the edge, placing my hands against the concrete barrier. From here, I can see the lights of the city.

“Can you keep quiet while I fuck you?” he whispers.

I flip my hair over my shoulder so I can look back at him. He looks feral with his need, gripping his cock in one hand while the other rubs over my ass. “Maybe.” I smirk.

He chuckles as he tugs his shorts down my legs, exposing my bare sex. His hand comes between my legs, swiping through my slit to find me dripping. “Oh, angel.” He smiles. “I love finding you wet for me.” He flicks his finger over my clit, making my legs shake with need before he finally lines himself up with my sex.

When he pushes into me, I feel full and my mind feels light. The pot has loosened me up, made my mind free.

Every thrust feels like heaven, and it doesn’t take long before I’m meeting his strokes, my body on edge. He wraps an arm around my body, bringing his hand to my cunt and finding my clit. His finger swirls around the bundle of nerves with precision.

I can feel my orgasm building, the heat pooling in my low stomach as he fucks me.

It takes everything in me not to scream his name as I fall over the edge. My hand covers my mouth and tears leak from my eyes as I fall. It feels like flying, the mixture of the pot and the orgasm takes me to a new level.

Naz pulls his cock from me, stroking himself and painting my back with his cum.

“Fuck, angel,” he moans, leaning over to breathe into my ear. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Chapter Eighteen

THE WHITE DRESS FEELS SUFFOCATING.The corset top digs into my skin, constricting my lungs. “I don’t like it,” I tell my mother, tugging at the top of the bodice.

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