Chapter 34 Flames Rekindled
The elevator doors slid shut with a soft hiss, sealing us in the quiet hum of ascent. Alexander’s arm remained firm around my waist, fingers splayed possessively over my hip, as though he could still feel Ben’s gaze burning into us from the restaurant. The encounter had left a bitter aftertaste, Ben’s calculated smile, the way Vanessa’s arm had looped through his, the unspoken challenge in his eyes when he saw the shopping bags. He suspected. He didn’t know the full truth, but he suspected enough to make the air between us crackle with unspoken warning.
Alexander didn’t speak until the doors opened directly into the penthouse. He locked the panel with a decisive flick of the keycard, then turned to me.
The city lights painted the black-and-white space in shifting silver and gold. Snow still drifted past the floor-to-ceiling windows, soft and silent. He stepped closer, crowding me gently against the wall, one hand braced above my head, the other sliding up to cradle the back of my neck.
“He saw us,” I whispered.
“Let him.” His voice was low, rough. “He can suspect whatever he wants. Tonight, you’re here. With me.”
The kiss that followed was slow, deliberate, lips brushing, parting, tasting. No rush. No frantic need to prove anything to the world outside. Just the two of us, finally alone, finally able to breathe each other in without fear of interruption.
He tasted red wine and winter air. I sighed into his mouth, fingers curling into the lapels of his coat. He shrugged it off without breaking the kiss, letting it fall forgotten to the marble floor. My coat followed. Then my scarf. Layer by layer we undressed each other with unhurried hands, his fingers working the buttons of my new cashmere sweater, mine sliding his tie free, loosening his collar until I could press my lips to the warm skin at the base of his throat.
He groaned softly when my teeth grazed his pulse. “Maddie…”
I smiled against his skin. “We have all night.”
“We do.”
He lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me toward the bedroom. The city lights followed us, painting stripes of gold across the white sheets. He laid me down in the center of the massive bed, then stood back for a moment, watching me, eyes dark and hungry.
“You’re beautiful,” he said simply.
Heat bloomed under my skin. I reached for him. “Come here.”
He did, slowly, deliberately, shedding the rest of his clothes as he crawled over me. Black shirt. Belt. Trousers. Boxers. Every piece revealed more of the body I’d come to crave: the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen, the thick length of him already heavy and ready between us.
When he was finally naked, he settled between my thighs, weight braced on his forearms so he could look down at me. The bond thrummed hot, electric, amplifying every brush of skin, every shared breath.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, tongue stroking mine in slow, claiming rhythm. One hand slid down my side, tracing the curve of my waist, the flare of my hip, then slipped between us. Fingers found me already slick, parting me gently, circling the swollen bud of my clit with maddening patience.
I arched, moaning into his mouth. “Alexander…”
“Shh.” He kissed the corner of my lips, my jaw, the sensitive spot beneath my ear. “Let me take my time.”
His fingers slid lower, two slipping inside me, curling, stroking that perfect place while his thumb kept steady pressure on my clit. Slow. Relentless. Building me higher with every measured thrust.
My hands roamed his back, nails dragging lightly, feeling muscle flex beneath skin. He groaned when I scored a line down his spine, hips rocking forward so his cock slid against my inner thigh, hot, velvet-hard, leaving a slick trail of pre-cum.
“Please,” I breathed.
“Not yet.” He kissed down my throat, across my collarbone, then lower, mouth closing over one nipple, sucking hard while his fingers never stopped moving inside me. The dual sensations, wet heat on my breast, thick fingers curling deep—sent sparks racing through my nerves.
I writhed beneath him, thighs trembling. “I need you inside me.”
He lifted his head, eyes molten gold in the low light. “Soon.”
He kissed his way down my stomach, nipping softly, then settled between my legs. Broad shoulders forced my thighs wider. His breath ghosted over my core, making me shiver.
Then his tongue, flat, hot, dragging from entrance to clit in one long, slow stroke.
I cried out, hands fisting the sheets.
He groaned against me, the vibration sending another jolt through my body. Then he devoured me, lips and tongue and teeth working in perfect rhythm. Sucking my clit gently, then harder. Tongue dipping inside me, fucking me with shallow thrusts. Fingers joining again, two, then three, stretching me, curling, stroking.
The pleasure built fast, too fast. I was already close from his earlier teasing. My hips bucked; he pinned them down with one strong forearm, holding me in place while his mouth worked me ruthlessly toward the edge.
“Alexander… oh god…”
He sucked hard on my clit at the same moment his fingers curled sharply inside me.
The orgasm hit like a tidal wave, shattering, blinding. I screamed his name, back bowing off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as wave after wave crashed through me. He didn’t stop, lapping gently, drawing it out until I was shaking, oversensitive, gasping for air.
Only then did he crawl back up, kissing me deeply so I could taste myself on his tongue. His cock nudged my entrance, thick, hot, dripping.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
I did eyes locking with him as he pushed inside.
Slow. So slow.
Inch by inch he filled me, stretching me perfectly, the sensation almost too much after the intensity of my climax. When he was fully seated, hips flush to mine, we both groaned, long, low sounds of pure relief.
He stayed still for a moment, letting me adjust, forehead pressed to mine.
“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped.
Then he began to move.
Long, deep thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, grinding against my clit with every stroke. Each one dragged over that sensitive place inside me, reigniting sparks that hadn’t yet faded.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass, urging him deeper. Faster.
He obliged.
Pace quickened, hips snapping, skin slapping skin. The bed creaked beneath us. His mouth found mine again, messy, desperate kisses that matched the rhythm of his thrusts.
One hand slid between us, fingers finding my clit again, rubbing tight circles in time with his movements. The dual sensation was overwhelming, cock filling me, fingers teasing, bond amplifying every pulse of pleasure until I could feel his building right alongside mine.
“Alexander, I'm close…”
“Me too.” His voice was wrecked. “Come with me. Let me feel you.”
He angled his hips, hitting that spot harder, deeper. Fingers pressed and circled relentlessly.
The second orgasm built faster, coiling tight, then shattering. I clenched around him, crying out against his shoulder as waves crashed through me again, harder, longer, vision blurring.
He followed with a guttural groan, thrusts turning erratic, burying himself deep as he came, pulsing hot inside me, body shuddering above mine.
We collapsed together, breathless, sweat-slick, hearts hammering in tandem.
He stayed inside me for long minutes, softening slowly, kissing me lazily, forehead, eyelids, cheeks, lips.
Eventually he eased out, rolling to the side and pulling me against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, one hand splaying possessively over my stomach.
“Mine,” he murmured against my hair.
I smiled, boneless and sated. “Yours.”