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LUCIA

A lexander kissed me like he’d spent too long holding back and couldn’t stand it anymore. His lips are demanding. I sighed against him, the sound swallowed by the heat of his kiss. His grip tangled in my hair, gently pulling just enough to make my head tilt back. The shift deepened the kiss, and his tongue stroked into my mouth, a shiver racing along my skin.

There was no hesitation, just raw, unfiltered need. The pressure of his lips, the way he held me like I might slip away if he let go, was intoxicating. Sparks of pleasure rippled through me, and when I lightly sucked on his tongue, he groaned, low and guttural, like he was coming undone.

It was messy, consuming, and absolutely everything.

My hand came up to the hem of his T-shirt, pushing it up to tell him I wanted it off. I felt him smirk under my lips.

“So bossy.” His voice was gravelly, his breath on my lips. Our eyes met and that mischievous glint was back. He pulled back for only a moment, reached one hand back, and pulled off his shirt in an easy motion. Alexander might be lean, like any other Formula One driver, but he was pure lean muscle. I palmed down his chest and abs. I tried not to blush at the sight, him laying himself bare for me, making my heart race a million miles a minute. He leaned back to me, the ghost of a touch on my chin, tipping my head up toward him. Every time he did it, I swore a part of me screamed inside; it made my heart beat, and the swarm of butterflies in my belly erupt. It was everything.

Our kisses slowed down. I savored them. I savored our time alone like this, even if it was us sneaking away from the beach while Gianna was with her uncle. This time felt golden; I wanted to keep it, bottle it, and have it with me always.

He pulled off my beach cover-up, only the string bikini in his way now.

“What do you want?” he said between kisses. I loved the way he asked, checked in with little looks, words, or nods to me, putting me first in a way no one had ever done before.

“You,” I whispered gently. His hand traveled down my body, making my brain fog at the need washing over me. He smirked and let his hands roam, a palm taking a breast in his hand before he removed his lips from mine. He pushed the thin fabric to the side and teased me, moving to the next before reaching and untying the bikini, plucking it off my body. I let out an involuntary gasp. His hands continued to roam so slowly, mapping out every curve of my body, squeezing gently when he caressed my hips.

“Hmm.” His voice was so deep, so rough, it sent chills coursing through me. The corner of his mouth tipped up, but his eyes were dark, like he was enjoying torturing me like this. A hand dragged down my stomach slowly, so close to where I needed him. He kissed me again, his nose nudging mine, then kissed my neck, then my collarbone.

“Does this feel good, angel?” I nodded. “You want this?” He barely dragged a finger over the material covering my sensitive clit, making me shiver. I nodded again, hands tensing on his broad chest. His eyebrow cocked up.

“Please,” I gasped out, absolutely at his mercy.

“Good girl.” He stared down at me, searching my face as he moved my bikini aside and stroked his long fingers over me, circling my clit. I pressed my lips together to hold in a moan as he glided over my sensitive nerves. I was breathing hard as he dipped one finger inside me, then the next.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and my eyes fell closed at the delicious, tight feeling. “So fucking wet for me, Luce. This is all for me?” I nodded, my eyes closing and head falling back before a hand clasped at my chin, sending shivers down my spine.

“Eyes on me, angel,” he whispered. I bit my lip, swallowing a moan, which earned me a look.

“I want to hear it,” he said, pulling my lip down with his thumb. I gasped at the gesture. He stopped moving and I let out a groan of disapproval, desperately wanting him to move again. He shook his head.

“I want to hear it,” he said again. I nodded slowly, keeping my eyes on him as he pumped his fingers, in and out slowly, making me squirm.

“Alexander.” My voice was scratchy, coming out like a beg. I was a mess, needing and wanting him.

More, more, more, my mind chants. As if he could hear me, he picked up the pace. Faster, until he was pounding into me with three fingers, curling up and hitting the just right spot to make me see stars. I swear this man had magic in his fingers. I had always been self-conscious about having a hard time orgasming, but Alexander had blown that out of the water. Obviously that wasn’t a me problem if the man knew what he was doing. And Alexander Wright knew exactly what he was doing. His thumb hit my clit, circling again, teasing enough to send me over the edge as he pumped in and out and I felt the pressure building, felt myself go breathless.

“That’s right,” he said as I let out a cry. “Ride it out, angel.” My breath came in short little gasps, my eyes rolling back.

“I’m-I,” I stuttered out.

“Come for me, angel. Come for me.” Warmth wrapped around me as I found my release. He kept moving, letting me ride it out. When I was breathless and spent, he pulled out and a contented smirk looked down at me.

“Damn, angel,” he murmured.

“Mm-hm,” I agreed. He leaned down, peppering sweet kisses along my neck and up my cheek before finding my lips again. He kissed me softly, and I melted again.

“I like when you call me that,” I said, ducking my head and blushing. It was new territory to speak up during sex for me. But Alexander encouraged it, wanted to hear my thoughts, what I liked and didn’t like.

“Good,” he replied with a kiss. “Because you’re my angel.” My heart stuttered and I sighed, leaning down and kissing him back, then I found myself climbing on top of him. I layered his stomach in kisses, slowly dragging myself down his body. He groaned in response and I felt satisfaction and excitement fly through me. I liked this, feeling in control and making him feel good. I reached out and grabbed his hard cock through the fabric of his swim trunks. His short swim trunks that made me want to climb him like a tree when he joined us on the beach.

He shook his head. “You don’t have to,” he assured me.

“I want to,” I replied, dragging my hand up and down in the same torturously slow way he teased me earlier. He let his head fall back on the pillow. I pulled at the strings of the trunks and pushed them down slowly.

“Hmmm.” I leaned down to him and let my tongue caress him from the base up and he let out another groan, fueling my confidence.

“Fuck,” he mumbled as I took his length in my mouth. “You are perfect,” he said, looking down at me. I kept my eyes on him as I sucked him, high on the power. I gently let my teeth trail as I pulled back up, making him groan even louder. And damn, a man who groaned and responded to your touch like this? The hottest thing I have ever experienced. I felt so powerful in that moment.

I kept going until a hand reached down, pulling my hair together out of my face, then tugged.

“Come here,” he commanded, voice dark. In a trance, I nodded and did as I was told. My heart beat so hard I could hear it, drunk in anticipation. He kissed me long and slow, one of those toe-curling, heart-fluttering kisses. Then our foreheads touched for a moment.

“I’ll go get a condom.” He walked toward the bathroom. When he came back, his eyes were dark and clouded, it was intoxicating to see. He looked me up and down, drank me in as he reached me, and held out the condom with a smirk. I leveled him with my own look, chin high, feeling so beautiful and strong under his gaze. I took it from him and climbed on top, a hand to his chest to push him down, straddling him as I ripped open the foil with my teeth, pulled it out, and rolled it on his thick length. He hesitated, watching my reaction, and I smiled, because Alexander’s subtle check-in made my heart soar. I nodded and tilted against him in the sheer need to have him touching me again. He pushed inside me, his jaw tight as he shut his eyes.

Oh God.

A moan slipped out of me as I stretched around him. The pressure grew, and I gasped as he hit every nerve inside me.

“So fucking tight.” His voice was a low rumble, his eyes flashed with heat as he kept pushing. His hand drifted to my breast, toying with my nipple as he slid in farther. The sensation of him is all-consuming. Our hips are pressed tight against each other, my knees on the mattress, and another moan of pleasure slipped out of me as heat raced up my spine.

“That’s right, angel.” He brushed the hair out of my face, a thumb brushing my cheek. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock so well.” His voice was tight with emotion, a flush coloring his cheekbones. His eyes burned with a mix of heat, longing, and adoration all at once. The way he looked at me like that, it made my heart skip, my head dizzy. I wanted it. I wanted it all the time.

He pushed in deeper, his jaw still clenched and gorgeous. The pressure built and he gave me a second to adjust before he moved again, faster and harder. And I melted into him. Our groans melted together, our bodies tangled. He flipped us over, him behind me, and he wrapped my hair around his fist. So gently and yet just the smallest tug sent me over the top. I felt the pleasure flooding my body, my back arching into his touch as he readjusted and started moving again.

“Harder.” I gasped out and he did just as I asked.

“You feel so fucking good, angel,” he said between thrusts. I gasped in response, and turned to look behind me, his fist still wrapped around my hair.

“Like the view, hotshot?” I asked, feeling confident. I could’ve sworn his eyes rolled back into his head at those words.

“Best damn view I’ve ever seen,” he responded, slowing down. His breathing was ragged as he tried to regain control.

“More, please,” I begged, and it was enough for his eyes to darken and to resume. “I’m so close,” I cried out. Pleasure flooded me again, building and building before the pressure popped and my orgasm rolled through me in a final crescendo.

“Fuck,” he groaned out, coming down with me. We collapsed afterward, limbs tangled and hearts racing. I rolled over to face him. His espresso eyes were soft and contented. He reached out his hand, gently brushing his thumb over my chin, then cheek, and placing a kiss on the side of my head. He pulled me to him and drew circles on my skin with his fingers while he muttered, “Fucking perfect.”

I love him. I love him more than the stars in the sky. He is my sky.

* * *

The thing about vacations is you never really want them to end. Then when they do end, you kind of feel like you’ve been hit by a truck.

I was half asleep with my head in Alexander’s lap, his arm wrapped around my waist. Alexander had been asleep since takeoff. Gianna was knocked out in Matteo’s arms and Nicola had contorted her body into a ball, reading on her Kindle.

Gianna had woken up in the middle of the night, but it was Alexander who got her, who rocked her gently for an hour, trying to get her back down in her crib before eventually bringing her to bed with us. She curled into my side easily, and I don’t think I have ever slept better. My heart grew ten sizes that night.

As I sat on the plane, I felt so overwhelmed with the amount of love there was here. The amount of people who would go to bat for my daughter. Who would love her and protect her. I had always felt this deep guilt about raising her by myself. That maybe I wasn’t enough. But the thing I was realizing, especially over the last few months, was that I wasn’t alone. That it was okay to feel those things. Anna had opened up to me about feeling the same, about feeling the loss of self to motherhood. How she felt guilty for going back to work even though she loved what she did. Most of all, that it was all normal. It was all things we would feel and grow through. And that it was hard, really fucking hard. But if you had your village, then the days would get easier and you could cherish every moment no matter how hard the days were or how little sleep you got. Granted, it was easier said than done, but I was readjusting and really enjoying the little moments of every day.