Page 55 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

“I love you,” he says before pulling out to slam back in. The stinging is back but not as sharp. Then he’s pulling out to come back in again. He’s gripping my neck, and I hold a hand around his arm while my fingernails mark his back.

It’s more instinctual than I thought it would be. When he comes forward, I lift my hips, and when he grinds against my clit, my thighs tense. “Yes,” I beg, writhing, arching my back underneath him, anything that will bring him to that spot again.

“Harder,” I beg.

“Who’s fucking you, Emma?” He asks, moving over me as aggressively as I asked him to.

“Alex.” He shakes his head.

“Who am I to you now?”

“My husband.” He nods.

“Is your husband fucking you well, Em?” I nod, too. “Come apart for me,wife.” I actually picture myself falling. I fall deep. In love with this feeling of belonging. I’m someone to somebody. Webelongnow. Actually.

“Alex, please!” I shout. He slams into me, grinding down, and my thighs tighten, and my abdomen tenses, and then I’m spasming around his thick length. A full-body orgasm rocks me. Heat spreading to each limb, my release coating his cock.

I throw my head back and moan as he fucks me through it.

“Look at me, baby,” he pleads for my attention, then proceeds to lose it, thrusting hard against me as his dick releases.

I can feel the convulsions, and I wish there wasn’t a barrier between us. I crave his cum deep inside me. The thought that follows is sickeningly embarrassing:ours.

As both our breathing calms, he rests his forehead against mine. We stay like that until our heart rates return to normal, the connection feeling profound in the moment.

“I love you,” he says gently.

I lean up for a quick kiss and say, “I guess we’re really married now,” with a smirk, my attempt at holding my cards a little more closely.

“I guess so,” he says back, a genuine smile painted on his beautiful face.

FIFTEEN

Alex

I test the bath water first. Then, walking over to her side of the bed, I pick her up and carry her to the tub.

“You don’t have to do this.” No, but I want to.

“Shut up, Em.” I smile down at her, and she smirks back.

I place her in the tub first, then climb in behind her so her back is to my chest.

The suds bloom, and I let her sit and process before I ask any of the hundreds of questions I want to.

How, at 26, was she a virgin? How was she giving a world-class BJ but never had sex? How had she not had sex?

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask her. She shrugs.

“I’m sure you have questions…”

“It was a surprise, but I don’t want you to think I’m mad or upset in some way…at all.” It’s fucking embarrassing how proud I am to have been Emma’s first. It’s a fire burning deep in the pit of my soul that I’m the only one she’s ever been with.Mine.

“My mom is…Darla Strait. Have you heard of her before?” I had.

“I know who your mom is, baby.” She turns around to look at me, surprised. Like I wouldn’t run a background check on someone I marry.

“Okay…well, I told you before that she’s an addict. But it’s not just that, it-it’s her entire world. I don’t feel like addiction fully encompasses the level of…devotionshe has to it.” She starts talking, and I pull her in tight, running a hand up and down her arm, letting her know she’s safe with me, too. I can be her keeper, too.