Chapter 49 XLXI.
The heavy brass doors of the elevator slid shut, sealing us in a silence thick with unspoken desires and the electric hum of anticipation. I stood rigidly beside Rowan, excited about spending the night with him. Its amazing how madly I've fallen for him in such short time.
I, Alessandro Ricci who thought I would never fall in love. Now I can't even imagine a life without Rowan in it. He has completely ruined me.
Rowan hadn’t spoken since we slipped away from the party. Now, as the elevator ascended, he turned to me. "You did it," Rowan murmured. "You're now the president of Ricci's enterprise. I'm proud of you Sandro." He said with a warm smile.
I smiled back as warmth filled my heart. "I couldn’t have done it without you Rowan. I can't wait to work beside you everyday in the office." I pulled him into my arms marveling at his warmth.
Rowan pulled away from the hug but he made no move to untangle himself from my hold. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face, transforming his sharp elegance into something dangerously alluring. He stepped closer, the heat of his body radiating through my suit.
"Im... I'm excited too Sandro," he breathed in a somewhat shaky voice, but I thought nothing of it, already distracted by his hand coming up, his fingertips brushing my jawline in a touch that was both tender and possessive. "Now... how about your reward?"
Before I could even process the words, Rowan closed the distance and kissed me. It wasn't like the desperate, frantic kiss we’d shared on many occasions. This was deliberate. It was deep. It was a claiming. His lips moved against mine with a slow, luxurious pressure, his tongue tracing the seam of my mouth before delving inside with confident ownership. I groaned, my hands flying to his waist to pull him flush against me. I felt the hard ridge of his desire press into my hip, and the taste of him—whiskey and triumph—was intoxicating.
The elevator chimed softly, opening directly into his expansive living room. Rowan didn't break the kiss as he guided me backward into the space. His hands were already working at the buttons of my shirt, his nimble fingers parting the fabric like he was peeling away layers of armor. I shrugged out of my jacket, letting it fall unheeded to the floor, while my own hands scrambled to unknot his tie and push his jacket from his shoulders.
We stumbled toward the deep leather sofa, but didnt fall on it. Instead Rowan broke the kiss, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. With surprising strength, he guided me to stand before the sofa. Then, holding my gaze with an intensity that stole the air from my lungs, Rowan slowly sank to his knees.
My heart hammered against my ribs. "Rowan..." My voice came out strangled. What the hell is he doing?
"Shhh," he murmured, his hands deftly undoing my belt and fly. "This is for you, Sandro. For choosing me even when I'm not worth it."
"You're worth every love I have to offer Rowan!" I insist, a bit angry that he thinks he isn't worth my love.
He smiled at my words and without warning, eased my trousers and briefs down, freeing me into the cool air of the penthouse. My dick sprang free, hard and aching. I gasped as his warm breath washed over me.
"For being mine," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper before he leaned forward, wrapping his hot mouth around my aching shaft.
I groaned at the blissful feeling it brought. Rowan's mouth was pure heaven—hot, wet, and impossibly skilled. He didn’t rush. He took his time, his tongue tracing the sensitive head of my cock with agonizing precision. His eyes never left my face; he watched every hitch in my breath, every flicker of pleasure that crossed my features. I tangled my fingers in his soft hair, not forcing him, just holding on as wave after wave of pure sensation threatened to buckle my knees.
Oh fuck! I've never felt anything like this before. How can Rowan be so good at this?!
"God... Rowan... I'm gonna..." I choked out, the tension coiling unbearably tight.
He pulled back slowly, leaving me throbbing and aching. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip before rising fluidly to his feet. His own shirt was open, revealing smooth skin flushed with desire.
"Not yet," he murmured, stepping close again and sliding his hands up my bare chest. "I need to feel you inside me."
He reached into the drawer of a nearby console table and retrieved a familiar vial of lubricant. I watched, mesmerized, as he prepared himself with practiced ease. He leaned back against the arm of the sofa, opening himself to me. The raw intimacy of it—Rowan readying himself, his gaze locked on mine with utter trust—was almost more than I could bear.
When he was ready, he crooked a finger. "Come claim your prize, Alessandro." He said slowly pulling his pants down.
It was strange seeing Rowan like this, but it only seem to fuel my lust for him. I moved like a man possessed. I closed the distance in two strides, my hands gripping his hips and pulling him to the very edge of the sofa arm. I lined myself up, the slick head of my cock pressing against him. I paused, drinking in the sight of his parted lips and the flush on his cheekbones.
"Look at me," I rasped. "I want your eyes on me when I fuck your brains out!" His eyes met mine, wide and needing and it just seems to turn me on further.
With agonizing slowness, I pushed forward. The tight, welcoming heat enveloped me inch by glorious inch. Rowan’s breath hitched, a low moan vibrating in his throat as I sank deeper, until I was fully sheathed. We held there for a moment, joined completely, sweat already beading on my brow as I fought for control.
Then I began to move. Slow. Deep. Each withdrawal was a loss, instantly remedied by a powerful surge back in. It wasn't frantic; it was a profound communion. I braced one hand on the sofa back beside his head, the other sliding up to cradle his face. I watched every flicker of emotion cross his features—the pleasure, the vulnerability, the fierce affection.
I found the spot I knew drove him wild on the next deep thrust. Rowan cried out, arching off the sofa arm, his fingers digging into my biceps. "There! God, Sandro... right there!"
I focused on that angle, setting a relentless rhythm that was both tender and possessive. I leaned down, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss as I moved within him. I could feel him trembling beneath me, the desperate clutch of his muscles around me.
"I'm yours Sandro," he gasped against my lips. "All yours... always..."
Those words—his total surrender—shattered my last shred of control. With a guttural groan, I drove in one last time, burying myself to the hilt as my climax ripped through me. Hot pulses of release flooded into him, and I held myself there, impossibly deep.
Rowan came moments later, his body tightening like a vice around me as he cried out my name like a prayer. I crushed him closer, kissing him through the convulsions, murmuring broken words of love against his sweat-slicked skin.
When the tremors finally subsided, I slowly withdrew, already missing the heat. Before he could shiver in the sudden coolness, I gathered him up effortlessly and carried his tired body to his bed before laying beside him.
Rowan nestled his head against my shoulder, his breathing slowly evening out. I traced idle patterns on his bare back, enjoying his sighs.
"How was it? I did a lot of research to make sure I'm doing the right thing," he murmured drowsily against my skin.
I pressed a kiss to his damp temple with a soft chuckle. "You did surprise me, but I love every second of it. It was perfect Rowan. You're perfect!" I whispered back hoarsely.
Rowan lifted his head slightly, meeting my eyes in the dim light. His gaze was soft and utterly content. "I'm glad you like it."
I held him close in a tight possessive grip, Hes mine forever, and no way in hell would I ever let him go.