Page 56 of Alliance

“Lana—”

“Shh,” I whisper. “You can’t fix me, Naz, you can’t rescue me like a princess in a fucking tower. You can’t make this go away. I’m not a project for you. You can’t solve this.

“We can either take the moments we get, or we can have nothing. And I’ll take the moments, every fucking second I can get with you. So I’m right here, right now. What happens tomorrow, we can deal with it then.” The words fly from my mouth in a flurry.

And at that, his mouth crashes down on mine, devouring me. I can’t get his clothes off fast enough, removing my hands from his skin feels impossible.

Sparks race through my body, every nerve ending on fire.

I ache for his touch, my body shaking as his hands work my shirt up, he breaks our kiss only to pull the material over my head. I unbutton his jeans, tugging the rough denim down.

I drop to my knees for him, wanting to worship every inch of his skin. He slides his boxers down, freeing his cock from the material. I wrap my hand around his width, stroking the velvet smooth skin as I bring my lips to his head.

I lick a drop of pre-cum as I lap my tongue over his shaft. Groans echo above me as his hand tangles into my hair. I smile against him, loving the sounds he makes as I take him further.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans, his breath hitching as he watches me. His hand finds my face and pulls me back. “I should be taking care of you, pretty girl.” His whisper is soft and sweet as he strokes his thumb along my cheeks.

“No, use me. Fuck me like he never will. Make me forget anyone else even exists.”

His eyes darken at my words, but I know he feels it too. This primal need surging between us. His hand grips the base of my neck as he pulls me up, crashing his lips against mine.

He spins me around quickly, pushing me down onto the table so my ass is propped up. He rips me leggings down my legs, barring me to him. His hands wander over my skin, warming every inch of me as they move.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” His hand slaps against my ass, not hard enough to hurt me but enough to leave a dull sting. “If I want to fucking worship you”—he leans in, his breath skating across my skin—“I’ll fucking worship you.”

His knees drop to the floor behind me, and he spreads my legs further. Warm breath blows across my hot center. I’m aching for his touch, begging for his mouth on my most sensitive parts.

His tongue finds my center, spreading me open and drawing lazy circles over the bundle of nerves. He pulls back with a moan. “Fuck, baby, I forgot how good you tasted.” My body burns at the dirty words, a shade of pink blooming across my chest.

I blush at his admission, but he doesn’t slow down, he finds the sensitive spot again. Driving me wild with his merciless torture.

My legs shake, my body going weak. My fingers grip onto the edge of the table and I know I’m about to come, about to fall over the edge. His fingers grip onto my thighs steadying me from the fall I anticipate any time now.

There’s a weightlessness to the pleasure, it feels like I’m flying, the wind whipping at my skin. And then suddenly the fall starts, coming down from the high.

“We’re not done yet.” Naz’s lips find their way back to my ears as he whispers, his warm breath sending a new round of sparks through my body.

He stands up, lining his cock up with my now soaked entrance. He pushes in effortlessly. Hands find their way to my hair, wrapping the locks around his fingers and pulling back just enough that I turn my head to look at him.

“You’re fucking beautiful, baby. Do know that?” His eyes lock with mine. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he continues. “You deserve to be fucking worshipped. You deserve to be treated like a queen. I don’t care who you think you belong to, whose money fills your purse, whose DNA runs through your body—those people mean nothing to me. You? You, Lana Romano, mean everything.”

I don’t even realize I’m crying until he drops my hair, reaching his hand forward to wipe a tear from my eye. His body presses against mine, his skin warm and comforting. He trails kisses along my shoulder and over my cheekbone.

My body is on fire, my soul ignited by his words.

When I crash over the edge of my orgasm this time there’s no darkness, no shame of guilt lingering from the action. I fall right into the sun, warmth enveloping me. I don’t know how loud I scream or how many times I chant his name while the waves of warmth wash over me. But when I open my heavy eyelids and steady my breathing, Naz is gasping above me, reeling from his own orgasm.

He lifts me up, carrying me over to the bed and laying me down with a kind of gentleness I’ve never known.

Happiness settles over me as he crawls into bed behind me, pressing his body firmly behind mine.

I want him to let me go. To move on and find someone better. Someone safer. That can love him and cherish him the way he deserves.

“You should go,” I whisper, even though the words make my heart ache, feeling like it's shattered into a million pieces.

“Shut up.” He presses a kiss to the back of my head. “I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

For a moment, a single second, a picture of our future flickers through my head. An image of him, a big house, screaming kids. Just a quick glimpse, a short picture of what could be.

---