Chapter 49 Best sleep
RORY POV
"No... he didn't... God, please continue..." I pleaded, my voice was a wreck.
He looked up, his eyes dark. "Fucking hell, you're such a dirty slut."
My body shuddered at the words. For some reason, I wanted him to say it again. Being degraded while he ate me out was so erotically pleasing it made my head spin.
He dove back in, pushing his tongue inside my dripping cunt with more pace, twisting, sucking, lapping at my clit, devouring every drop. My body rose and fell with pleasure, my hips bucking against his face.
If this is what I get for marrying a man who’s still grieving his dead wife, I’d gladly do it again. In fact, I would kill for it.
If I get this from him every day, I don’t mind letting him use me as his dead wife’s replacement — as long as I get to experience this again.
My body shook when he spit directly into my open pussy and licked it back up with my juices. My wetness was everywhere, I could hear the wet, filthy splash-splash sounds, thanks to my hearing aids.
“Please,” I breathed. Tears were forming in my eyes from the tension building in my body. My lungs were burning with lust. I was on the edge of something and if I didn’t fall off it soon I was going to burst into flames. “I need to come. Please.”
Without relenting, he tipped me over with his tongue, making me fall, crash, and burn in an explosion of sensations. I came hard on his mouth — my pussy gushing, clenching around his tongue, my juices flooding his face as I cried out his name.
I curled onto myself, my muscles draining the last remnants of pleasure before I fell back on the bed, panting for air.
Alexander stood up. His tongue darted out and licked his lips clean of my juices, his eyes never leaving my face. My mouth watered watching him do it.
He walked into the bathroom, leaving me drained and jelly-limbed.
I couldn't even move my legs.
When he walked back into the room, he went to his knees again. But he didn't touch me sexually. He did what I never expected him to do. He began to clean my pussy with a warm towel and water, gently wiping every drop of my cum from my folds, my thighs, my ass, taking care of me with a strange, quiet tenderness. My mouth fell open as I watched him.
I watched him do it and felt my heart do something completely involuntary.
Then the thought crept in quietly.
He might not be seeing me. He might be seeing her. Taking care of her the way he used to. Being on his knees for her.
Deep down I wished it was me he was seeing. Just me.
When he was done he stood up.
“Go to bed,” he said. “You must be tired.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was completely drained in the best possible way. I didn’t even bother reaching for my panties. I just pulled the covers over myself and let my body sink into the mattress.
He turned toward the bathroom.
“You know you’re a pervert right?” I called after him.
He turned and cocked a brow at me.
"Watching me through the cameras." I blushed, my ears turning pink.
"I couldn't help it. It was beautiful," he shrugged, his voice dark and honest. "I had to fly back home and get a taste."
He said it like that was the most normal thing in the world.
Gosh... he's so Alexander.
"Did you go and fuck Stacey?" | asked, batting my eyelashes at him.
He let out a chuckle that resonated right in my heart. "No. I didn't fuck her."
I don't know why hearing it made me so happy, but I smiled, pulled the covers up, and had the best sleep of my life.