Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“I’m not running. I’m being rational. And as far as knowing each other, you making fuck-me eyes across a crowded room with our friends does not constitute knowing one another. Plus, my boss is your friend!”
“You’re panicking,” I correct. My hips shift, grinding my dick along her center. She lets out a breathless moan, her head falls back to the pillow, and her thighs part wider to accommodate me. “And every time you try to put distance between us, it only makes me want you more, wife.”
“You arrogant, overbearing…” She gasps. I pull back before sinking the head of my cock inside her tight heat. “Asshole.”
“I am,” I agree without an ounce of remorse. “And I’m the asshole who’s going to make you forget about leaving this room.” I capture her mouth with a deep kiss, cutting off any further argument. Alexandria fights for all of two seconds before her defense crumbles once again. She breathes a soft whimper into my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer.
I drive myself all the way inside her in one heavy stroke, burying my cock to the hilt. She arches off the mattress. A shattered cry echoes off the high ceilings as her walls clamp down around me, tight, hot, and pulsing. I set a slow, steady pace. Every thrust is calculated to get her out of her head and focused on what I’m doing to her instead.
“Tell me, Alexandria.” I pull my mouth away from hers while my hips continue their ministration, feeling each and every ripple of her pussy on my cock. “Tell me you’re staying.”
“Dante, please...” she sobs. Her nails dig into my back, marking me once again, scoring me in the same place she did the other night while adding a few new ones to the mix.
“Tell me,” I rasp, moving my thumb to her clit, watching as her breasts bounce with each thrust of my body.
“Fine, I’ll stay,” she finally admits with a sob. Her core pulses wildly around me, milking every drop of control I have left. Her entire body goes rigid as she tumbles over the edge. I plunge in deep one last time. A gut-wrenching growl of my own is pulled from my chest as I let myself go, coming inside her as our combined orgasms rips through the room. I collapse over her, burying my face in the crook of her neck, holding her tightly as I recover. My lips feel the pounding of her pulse, kissing her soft skin again and again while waiting for her breathing to return to normal. Finally, Alexandria’s arms settle around me, holding me just as much as I’m holding her. “For now.”
“Pregnant or not, annulment or not, you’re staying right here, wife.”
CHAPTER FIVE
alexandria
So, I slunk out of Dante’s penthouse like I’d never been there at all. I had to. My career depends on it. And while I conceded to put the annulment talk on hold last night, we also have way more to discuss. Still, it was hard to leave Dante and his muscular frame that was sprawled across the bed. The dark sheet pulled down to his waist, exposing the sharp angles of his back and the red scratches my nails left on his skin. Then there are those dimples right above his ass on either side that had me biting my lower lip. One of his heavy arms was flung over the empty space where I’d been lying.
I held my breath and gathered my clothes off the floor, moving as quietly as a mouse in order to not wake him up. Dante moves like a predator when he’s awake, possessively gripping me, kissing me until my mind goes blank, and destroys my ability to think rationally. I didn’t want to think about how good he feels or the promises he whispered against my throat.
I needed air.
I needed my own space.
And so, I left with him being none the wiser.
Less than an hour later, I was back in the comforting confines of my own place. I showered, scrubbed, and lathered my body to rid myself of the scent of Dante to help keep my head clear of the overpowering alpha who pushes past all of my defenses.
By the time I step into Sterling Capital in my corporate armor—a tailored cream blazer, black button-down shirt with a ruffled collar, black wide-leg trousers, and red pumps for a pop of color—I feel like Alexandria Holland again, the competent career-oriented woman who has a plan.
I walk into the glass-walled office, set my leather bag on the desk, and look down at my left hand. The emerald-cut diamond catches on the fluorescent light of the ceiling. There’s no way I can wear the glowing beacon without being bombarded with a plethora of questions. I pull the rings over my knuckle and drop them into the pocket of my pants, hiding the evidence.