Page 96 of Adoration: Isn't What It Seems (Love Isn't What It Seems 2)

My mother had said similar words. God knew Alexander consumed my body and my soul shivered in anticipation for him. But also in fear of getting hurt. I wanted to be so strong but my fear was making me weak.

I got back to Alexander’s place… um, home... with Brandon right before dinner. His staff indicated he wouldn’t be joining us, and I felt disappointed and relieved at the same time. I missed him with an ache, although I tried to tell myself I shouldn’t. It was such a conflicting response.

Brandon and I had our dinner, both of us chatting about our day and me entertaining him with stories when his mom and I used to hang out at my mom’s publishing house. After dinner, we repeated our routine from last night, and before we knew it, he was in bed.

I kept glancing at the clock, wondering where Alexander was. It bothered me that we had left everything on bad terms last Friday and haven’t had a chance to discuss it. It felt like a dark cloud, looming over our heads.

After a shower, I picked up some paperwork, deciding I should stay up and wait for Alexander. It would be better for us if we got our disagreements out of the way and plan how we’d move forward. Custody of Brandon and publishing house ownership were behind us, granted neither one worked out the way we envisioned. But he was willing to make this a real deal, and if I stopped my fears, we could make this work. Couldn’t we?

Two hours later, my eyes burning and barely awake, I glanced at the clock indicating it was past eleven. I felt tired, but I really wanted to see him. With the book in my hands, I laid back my head against the throw pillows on the lounge sofa, I just wanted to rest my eyes for a second.

Next thing I was aware of were Alexander’s arms lifting me up.

I opened my heavy lids, my hand against his chest, his heat instantly warming me. I loved his body so close to mine; there was just something soothing about feeling his strength under my touch and his warmth soaking my body.

“I was waiting for you,” I muttered tiredly.

“Long day at work,” he spoke softly, his mouth close to my ear.

Distracted by his bare chest and his skin under my fingers, all thoughts of talking fled. Instead my hands lightly traced his tattoos, roaming his chest.

“Livy,” he groaned softly. “If you want to sleep, you better stop that.”

I wasn’t sure if it was my state of sleepiness, but all of this felt like a dream. And all I wanted to dream of was him inside me, his hands all over me. I wanted the taste of him. I brought my lips to his neck, licking, nibbling his skin. When I felt him against me again, I didn’t realize how much I missed his touch over the last three days. He brushed his mouth against my cheek and I reveled in the sensation of his warm lips against my skin.

He laid me against the bed, and I pulled him to me; I wanted him and nothing else mattered right now. He pulled off my nightgown in rushed, jerky movements as if he couldn’t wait to see every inch of me, leaving me only in lacy white underwear.

My hands hungrily roamed his abs and stomach. Eagerly reaching for his pants, I fumbled to help him get rid of them. His fingers stroke me softly through the lacy underwear, causing delicious friction that intensified my need for him. His mouth was on my breast, licking and teasing my sensitive skin; a desperate moan escaped my lips. My fingers scratched through his hair, as my body arched against him. This man consumed every sense I possessed. When he touched me, it was the only thing that mattered and I wanted his touch forever. His finger found my clit, rubbing it, working it as my body melted into him.

“I need you, Alexander,” I cried out in a pleading voice.

He ripped my underwear apart and threw them aside. He forced my legs open, bare to him, the look in his eyes was one of reverence. We locked gazes and his mouth took mine in a bruising kiss. His tongue found mine, taking it all. His kiss was rough, animalistic and beautiful. It was as if he was proving a point.

I reached for his cock, but he grabbed my hands, forcing them above my head. With his other, he stroked the blunt head of his cock against my entrance, driving me crazy with need.

“You are mine,” he groaned as he surged forward in a blunt, hard thrust. His hands reached down to my hips, holding me in place and my arms wrapped around him, my hands on his bare back, scratching, urging him on.

“You are mine, Livy,” he repeated, his voice horace and hard.

“Yes,” I cried out as he thrust rough into me, and I took it all, loving each second. Our lovemaking was desperate, rough, and addictive. He was addictive.

Each thrust brought me closer and closer to that unique sensation only he was able to bring me.

“Come for me, Livy.”

He captured my lips into a bruising kiss, an orgasm exploding in me as I held on to him hard, my pussy clenching around his cock. Alexander came a moment later, thrusting all the way to hilt, hard and unrelenting.

My breathing was hard as he withdrew and his matched mine. The room was enveloped in darkness, his hard body illuminated by the light of the moon and the only sound breaking the silence was our laboured breathing.

“What are you doing to me?” he muttered softly, his blue eyes still hungry on me, his body towering over me.

I wanted to tell him I hoped I was doing to him the same as he was doing to me. He consumed me way more than he should, and it scared me. All these feelings inside me for this man were scaring me.

My fingers brushed lightly against his cheek and I lifted my face in search of his lips. I didn’t want to think. I wanted to feel him; I wanted to love him... Our bodies were like an inferno when we touched and it was bound to burn out. But it amazed me that each touch we shared made the fire burn stronger. Each second we spent together was the step towards making our marriage real, giving it a chance. Maybe we were truly a good match. My heart skipped a beat at that thought.

His lips found mine in a light, feather-like kiss, so different from his earlier, brutal kisses. I returned the kiss, opening for him. His tongue softly brushed against my lip, accepting the invitation. My heart fluttered in the gentleness of the kiss. His fingers traced down my neck, lightly, down my collarbone. My desire for him flared up and I couldn’t believe my body responded immediately, wanting him all over again.

He was kissing me with an aching slowness, causing a deep moan in my throat. His hands continued brushing lightly against my skin all the way down to my calf, leaving a trail of flames.

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