Yvonne's POV
He peppered my body with kisses. The drag of his hands across my skin as he pulled me down on one of the chairs in the room, my legs nudged open, the burn of his skin as my bare knees bounced against the hard muscle of his thighs.
He shouldn’t be muscular. Shouldn’t have tan skin, cut arms, a defined chest. He should be pale. Scrawny. For someone who probably spent twelve hours a day under fluorescents, before computers. But I didn’t question how God blessed him. Didn’t question how or why, especially not in moments like this.
He pulled me farther, ‘til my back was flat against the seat of the chair, my butt hanging off of it, his hands soft, probing, lifting my legs to the sky and pulling the soft silk of my dress of my body, the scratchy tease of my thong’s lace coming along, moving up and then off my legs.
And then I was bare before him, his hands pushing up the cotton of my bralette over my breasts, his body stilling when I was fully exposed before him. “Perfect,” he breathed. Ran his hands lightly, from breast to thigh, back and forth, side to side, just the skin of fingertips across skin, just light enough to make me arch into his touch, begging for more with my eyes.
I waited. Breathed. Parted my legs before his eyes and lifted my knees, ‘til my feet rested on the edge of the chair and I was open before him, nothing he couldn’t see. His eyes dropped, focused on the place between my legs, a soft groaning coming from his mouth, his fingertips dragging lower and running softly over the lips of my sex.
“Perfect,” he repeated, his fingers brushing up and down over that spot, not pushing, not spreading, just a gentle caress that had me lifting my hips, his name whispering from my lips, wanting, needing more. Then he pushed a finger inside and everything changed. “God…” The curse, tumbling from his lips, as his mouth lowered to mine.
Stretching his body forward, the hard muscles of his chest pressed against mine as he kissed me. I wrapped my legs around him, pinned his hand inside me, the gentle movement of that finger causing my breath to catch, mouth to freeze on its own.
“Yes, Alex. Oh my God, yes.” “your body is so unreal,” he whispered, his mouth leaving mine, dropping to my neck, a hand pulling my legs apart as he moved down my body, his mouth soft on my skin, a delicious journey down as his finger continued its perfect tease inside my body.
It’s amazing what a finger can do. Such a small digit, but able to go exactly right there. My back came off the leather, my breath arrested as he touched some place that made my world go dark. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. “Oh my God, don’t stop.” I couldn’t keep my eyes open, but I wanted to. Wanted to see the look on his face, the dark intensity that stole over his face when he watched me.
Wanted to see the moment he pulled out his cock, wanted to see the firm head of it, his hand wrapped around the base, the stroke of his fingers as he yanked at it. This seemed to be his favorite moment as he watched me carefully— watching me come.
It made the skin on his cock stretch as he hardened to a level past belief. It caused his eyes to darken, his breath to hitch. The muscles in his chest tightened, his hands quickened, my name a quick moan on his lips. And I knew what was coming. What would happen as the shudders ceased, as I tumbled down the delicious hill that was my orgasm.
At that moment, the most perfect moment my body would ever know? That was when he would thrust. Remove his fingers and shove inside. Fill me to breaking before starting a rhythm that would trump whatever ecstasy I just experienced. And the knowing, the expectation… opening my eyes and seeing him prepare himself, his own excited anticipation at what was about to happen… The heavy lids and pants of his breath as his finger continued its lazy brush inside of me.
I bucked against his hand and came so hard I broke. Waves upon waves, the sounds from my mouth senseless, unmeaning. I arched against his hand, humped it like an animal in heat, my body exploding around his finger, the perfect flick of his fingers making my feet kick, the glimpse of his face, dark intensity, his cock, hard and ready, and I couldn’t stop it, it stretched, continued, beautiful insanity that turned my world into stars and my body into a constellation.
And then, before I fell from the sky, at the moment when my breath began to catch and my eyes flicked open, he shoved inside of me and I lost it again. Hard, fast. He fucked me as if he hated me, but the words spilling out were words of adoration for my body.
He bent over me, dug his hands into my hips and held me tightly in place. Pounded away, my name repeating on his tongue, the urgency in his movements carrying me higher, spurring my pleasure. This was for him, and that made it for me, knowing that the loss of his control was a gift, a rarity that I was one of the few to see.
I wrapped my legs, dug my heels into him, and raked my nails across his skin. When he came, it was Alex Owen intense, one hand tight to my neck, the other squeezing the meat of my ass, pulling me tighter, as if he would never get enough—be deep enough, be one enough—of me. He thrust fully in, moaned my name, and shuddered through the final fucks of his orgasm.
Then we collapsed into a deep sleep I never want to wake up from.
“Yvonne! Wake up!” my mom's voice cut through the dream I was having, along with the constant shaking of my shoulder. I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow, trying to hold onto the last bit of the dream that was quickly fading.
“Remember we set the divorce meeting for today, have you forgotten? You’re late for today's hearing, remember the family set today for the divorce hearing.”
“Come on,” her voice grew more urgent, and the words finally hit me. Today was the final day of concluding the divorce arrangements with Christian.
Everyone would be there, by everyone I mean our families both families would be present. I heard even Christian's family members whom no one knows. Our marriage and the end of it will drastically affect his company which they invest in, so they will surely be there to try to talk us out of it.
That was all I needed to jump out of bed. The sudden movement made my head spin, and a wave of dizziness and nausea hit me. “Oh no,” I muttered, pressing my hand to my pounding forehead. “What time is it?”
I quickly rushed out to relief my mum of my baby and get her and myself dressed
As I stood there, trying to shake off the grogginess, flashes of last night came back–hazy and disjointed, enough to make me cringe. “So, it wasn’t a dream,” I muttered, the images replaying in my mind.
The gala, the drinks, the dangerously attractive man, his intense eyes, his touch, the kiss. My heart raced as I remembered it all–a mix of regret and excitement. I had kissed a man I didn’t even know. And I had let him touch me, hell we had sex… What was I thinking?