Chapter 44- Body On Fire

Chapter 44- Body On Fire
My lips were still swollen from his kiss when he broke away, eyes black with need. Alessandro looked like a different man. The cold, silent bodyguard who never smiled was gone. In his place was fire—raw, wild, unstoppable. His chest rose and fell fast, sweat shining on his skin. The room smelled like whiskey, leather, and sex. My sex. I was soaked, my thighs slick, and I hadn’t even been touched down there yet.

He stared at me like I was food and he was starving.

I should have been scared. I should have pushed him away. But my body didn’t care about plans or hate or escape. It only cared about him.

His hands grabbed the hem of my top. One rough pull and the fabric tore. Buttons flew. Cool air hit my skin, but his mouth was on me before I could gasp. He sucked hard on the top of my breast, teeth scraping, tongue hot and wet. I moaned, loud and broken. The sound shocked me. I didn’t know I could make noises like that.

“Off,” he growled against my skin. “All of it. Now.”

His voice was sandpaper. Deep. Broken. Like the drug had ripped away every wall he ever built.

My fingers shook as I reached for his black shirt. I yanked it up, over his head, and threw it somewhere. His body was a weapon—hard muscle, sharp lines, tattoos I wanted to lick. I ran my hands down his chest, nails dragging. He hissed, hips jerking forward.

We undressed like we were racing death. My skirt gone. His belt clattered to the floor. Pants shoved down. Shoes kicked off. Underwear ripped. I didn’t care. I just needed skin on skin.

Then I saw him.

His cock.

My eyes went round.

He was huge. Thick. Long. Veins pulsing. The head slick and dark. It stood straight up, angry and ready. I had never seen anything like it. My mouth went dry. My pussy clenched hard, empty and aching.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but he didn’t give me time.

His hand shot to my throat. Not choking. Just holding. Owning. His thumb pressed under my jaw, tilting my head back. Then his mouth crashed into mine again. Rough. Messy. Teeth clashing. Tongue deep. He kissed like he wanted to crawl inside me.

I kissed back just as hard.

He walked me backward. My knees hit the bed. I fell. The mattress bounced. Before I could breathe, he was on me.

His weight pinned me down. Hot skin. Hard muscle. His cock pressed heavy against my belly, burning like a brand. I squirmed under him, legs spreading on instinct. He growled into my neck, biting down. Not gentle. Not even close.

I loved it.

His mouth moved fast. Lips. Tongue. Teeth. Down my neck. Over my collarbone. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and I arched off the bed, crying out. My hands clawed at his back, nails digging in. He didn’t flinch. He bit harder.

“Fuck,” I gasped. “Alessandro—”

He didn’t answer with words. He answered with his hips.

One shift. One line-up. The thick head of his cock nudged my entrance. I was dripping. Soaked. Embarrassingly wet. He slid through my folds once, twice, coating himself. Then he stopped.

Looked at me.

His eyes were wild. Pupils blown. Sweat dripped from his temple onto my chest.

“Aria,” he rasped. My name sounded like a prayer and a curse.

I didn’t let him think.

I grabbed his ass and pulled.

He slammed in.

One thrust. All the way.

I screamed.

He was too big. Stretching me. Filling me. Burning. My walls fluttered around him, trying to adjust. He didn’t wait. He pulled back—almost all the way out—then drove in again. Harder. Deeper.

I saw stars.

There was nothing soft here. No slow build. No sweet words. Just raw, brutal need. He fucked me like a man possessed. Like the drug had turned him into an animal and I was the only thing that could save him.

Or destroy him.

His hips snapped forward. Again. Again. Again. The bed slammed against the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his back. I met him stroke for stroke, rolling my hips, taking him deeper.

“Harder,” I moaned. I didn’t recognize my voice. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

He grabbed my thighs and pushed them up, folding me in half. The angle changed. He hit something inside me that made my eyes roll back. I clawed at his shoulders, his arms, his back. Red lines bloomed under my nails. He growled and fucked me faster.

Sweat dripped from his chest onto mine. Our bodies slapped together, wet and loud. The room filled with the sounds of us—moans, grunts, the creak of the bed, the slap of skin.

I felt it building. That tight, hot coil low in my belly. My pussy clenched around him, pulling him in. He cursed under his breath, pace turning brutal.

“Fuck, Aria—tight—so fucking tight—”

His hand slid between us. His thumb found my clit. One circle. Two. I shattered.

I came with a scream, back bowing off the bed. My whole body shook. Waves of pleasure crashed over me, again and again. My pussy spasmed around his cock, milking him.

He followed right after.

One last deep thrust. He buried himself to the hilt and came with a roar. Hot. Thick. Pulse after pulse. I felt every spurt inside me. Filling me. Marking me.

We stayed like that. Locked together. Breathing hard. Hearts pounding. His forehead dropped to mine. Sweat mixed. Breaths mingled.

Then it hit me.

His cum. Dripping out of me. Warm and sticky between my thighs.

No condom.

The realization crashed over me like ice water. I just got fucked by Alessandro—my cold, emotionless bodyguard—raw. Let him come inside me. On aphrodisiacs. In the middle of my escape plan.

My eyes flew open.