Chapter Nineteen
♥
Alexandra woke up beside Gabe and immediately looked over her shoulder to see if Conor was still there. He wasn’t. She closed her eyes, trying to hold her anger in check. “You sent him away again?”
“No. He only left a few moments ago to take a shower. He’ll be back.”
She exhaled long, pushing her agitation with it, just like she’d been coached to do.
“Is Jonathon okay?”
“He will be. It’s a bit complicated.”
She made a face. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“I underestimated his need for aftercare from you. The two of you shared something intense, and whenever a Dominant has an intensely emotional or physical scene with a submissive, time is taken afterward to reassure them, make them feel safe, cherished, protected―loved. It helps them transition back to the normal day-to-day relationship they share with their partner.”
“You did that for him. That’s why you left to take care of him.”
“Yes, but you also dominated him, and you haven’t had a moment alone with him. You’ve barely spared him a glance, let alone a kind word. If you want to dabble in the arena, you have to learn all the roles you will be required to play. There’s much more to it than bending another to your will.”
“So now his bitchy attitude is my fault?”
“No, it’s my fault for not taking you with me immediately after the scene.”
She shrugged. “So what do you want me to do?”
“Have a conversation with him, listen to him, try to start understanding his needs so you won’t be so angry when I step in to meet some of those needs.”
“Fine, talking, listening.”
“Understanding,” he repeated.
She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I will never understand what would compel someone to be so weak.”
“Weak?” Gabe chuckled softly. “Not weak, not by any means. Being a submissive is the test of true strength. It takes only physical endurance to beat someone with a belt, but to willingly be bent over your Dominant’s knee and submit to pain, punishment, takes so much more.”
“I don’t want to talk or think about any of this now.” She met his gaze and hugged his face with her palms. “Are we okay?”
“I see you,” he whispered.
“I was afraid Jonathon’s tantrum—”
“No.” He cut off the thought she was expressing. “My domination of Jonathon is one hundred percent separate from us, just as your domination of him will be separate from us if you choose to take the relationship you develop with him that route.”
She exhaled the breath she’d been holding, and her lips curved into a small smile. “I hope you do, because I’m going to ask you to do something I believe you aren’t going to want to do.”
“Now I’m nervous. What’s up, beautiful girl?”
“I asked you to let me watch you make love to Jonathon, and you refused. That’s why I forced the issue, and it ended up being something other, and I feel horrible about that. I need to know I can handle the possibility of walking in on the two of you again and not react like a lunatic.”
“Before that happens, I want you to have some time alone with Jonathon.”
“What? I don’t know anything about what you’re supposed to do after a scene.”
“Can you start a conversation with him?”
Alexandra heard the door open and glanced up to see Conor entering. “Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry,” Gabe assured him. “Alexandra has questions about aftercare, and I’m not doing a very good job explaining what I need her to do with Jonathon. I need to check on Mamó and make sure she isn’t trying to conquer breakfast for all of us by herself.”
Gabe stood and started throwing on clean clothes after rummaging through the closet. A moment later he kissed her cheek and left her alone with Conor. He waited until the door clicked closed before he asked, “What else is going on?”
She shrugged as she pulled the covers to her chin.
“I’m going to take a wild guess. Are you terrified of facing Jonathon?”
She nodded.
“You aren’t being tasked with something easy. Every Dominant worth their salt is overwhelmed by providing aftercare following their first scene with a new submissive. Everyone is different, and no two people respond exactly the same way. What did Gabe tell you to do?”
“Start a conversation, listen, and try to understand.”
Conor chuckled under his breath. “Sorry, it’s good advice; it’s just the CliffsNotes of a two-hundred-page book on the subject.”
“Go to breakfast without me and take over Rowan for a moment to give Emma a break? I want to read the book you sent to my e-mail before I face Jonathon.”
“No problem.” He kissed her cheek, and she turned her face in time to press her lips to his mouth.
“Thank you. One more thing?”
“Anything.”
“In an hour, can you send Jonathon up with tea and toast?”
He nodded. “Just toast? You ate almost nothing yesterday.”
“Fine, toast and jam.”
“You’re hopeless.”
♥ ♥ ♥
Jonathon knocked on the bedroom door exactly an hour later, and she felt no more ready than before she’d read the damn book Conor loaned her even though she’d memorized every word. “Enter.”
He peeked around the door’s edge. “Conor said to bring you tea and toast. Is that okay?”
She found it curious, because it appeared Conor had not told him she would be expecting him. “It’s perfect. Set it on the nightstand for me.”
She bit her bottom lip as he walked around the edge of the bed, then, realizing she was biting her lip, tried to force a more serious, and self-assured expression. Jesus. What am I doing?
He set the tray on the tabletop and turned to go, saying softly, “I brought orange juice too. I know you didn’t get enough calories yesterday, and I worry.”
She nodded, completely puzzled. “That was very thoughtful, Jonathon, thank you. Will you sit with me awhile?”
He turned, a slightly unsure expression crossing his face before he concealed it. He sat on the edge of the bed. “I know I owe you an apology for being a bitch again.”
She noted he hadn’t actually apologized, and scooted from the middle of the bed toward him, watching his shoulders grow even stiffer as she did so. She ran her fingertips down the center of his back. “Is touching you okay?”
He looked over his shoulder at her and barely glanced at her before dropping his gaze to the bed. He nodded.
She dragged her hands down the lengths of his arms. He was wearing a black turtleneck that hugged his muscles. “You have a beautiful body.”
She looked around him, seeing his eyes had closed. “Can we talk about last night?”
He opened his eyes, his uncertainty unhidden. “If you want to.”
“I want to know that you’re okay. I want to know that we’re okay.”
He pivoted toward her and she reached slowly to stroke his cheek, but he met her halfway and rubbed his face against her palm. She moved onto her knees so she could be closer to him. “There’s something about you―no matter how annoyed I get at you for being such a bitchy diva—I still want to take care of you. I want you to be all right. I want you to like me, and the harder I try to make you like me, the further I seem to push you away.”
“You can’t force someone to like you, Xandra.”
“I know and I apologize―OCD control freak. It’s just hard to accept.”
He glanced up, keeping his head lowered. “I’m going to try to be less of a bitchy diva because Gabe believes we really can have the happily ever after he promised you, even though I know you’re going to kick me out eventually. So until you prove my theory, I have to try to fit into the ridiculous fairytale you’ve convinced Gabe you need for true happiness.”
Alexandra chuckled and shook her head at his saccharin tone. Sure, let’s do this. “It’s true. Gabe knows me very well.”
Jonathon smiled sheepishly. “Not quite as well as he thought. You surprised him the other night—when you topped him by dominating me.”
That was unintentional. Alexandra caught his face in her hands and forced him to meet her gaze. “Were you surprised as well?”
His lips parted. “Not really. He doesn’t see you as I see you. The first time you left me marked―I haven’t quite recovered.”
“Recovered?”
“I think about you…biting me, marking me, controlling me. I want you to―”
“Please tell me what you want.”
“Want me. That’s all. My fantasy is that you will want to dominate me as much as Gabe and Conor want to dominate you. They crave you; they crave your submission.” A tear slid down Jonathon’s cheek. “Can I tell you Gabe’s best kept secret?”
Alexandra gasped and shook her head. “No, no, no! That wouldn’t be right.”
“He doesn’t crave me.” Jonathon’s face crumpled. “He only dominates me out of duty.”
Alexandra hated seeing his pain. How could this man keep breaking her heart? She pulled him into her arms and held him tight. “You know that isn’t true, baby.”
A sob broke in his chest and dear god, she knew that feeling. She pressed her cheek to his. “Can I tell you a secret?”
She felt his nod against her face. “The first morning I returned to the pub after that crazy Friday night, I watched you. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I wanted to lift your shirt and see if there were any bruises. I wanted to see your bruised flesh and know that I’d done that to you.”
He shivered against her, and she pulled back to look at him, meeting his gaze. “I still think about it, Jonathon. Wishing I’d been brave enough to push up your shirt and look.”
He whispered softly, “They were faded by then.”
“I’d have been disappointed and then I would have wanted to mark you again.” She stroked his cheek and leaned closer. “Can I kiss you, Jonathon?”
He leaned in, pushing his lips to hers in answer, kissing her as only he kissed her, so controlled, so perfectly seductive. She moaned into his mouth.
He pulled away from her. “I told by both Gabe and Conor to not pressure you in any way to dominate me and I’m not doing that, but need for you to know that when you topped me and Gabe, you appeared so confident, skilled, not doubtful in the least. You pushed me into the deepest subspace I’ve ever been in without even realizing you’d done it. I’ve been with experienced Dommes who didn’t come close to your natural skill.”
“Subspace? You were in subspace? That’s why Gabe made you leave the room?”
“Partially, yes.” He blushed.
“He punished you in his own way after you both left me?”
“He did.”
And then he fucked you. She exhaled anxiously, not wanting to feel the rage building inside her, but it was there. And Conor made love to me.
“Can I leave now?”
What just happened? “Of course,” she whispered, immediately remembering everything she’d planned to say. “Jonathon?”
He turned just before opening the door.
“Thank you for breakfast.”
He bolted from the room.
“Well, fuck.” She closed her eyes, thinking too hard. Stop!
A thought suddenly came to mind as she remembered the last moments of the family reunion.
Jonathon whispered, “That was some crazy step-dancing. I’m impressed.”
“It’s been a long time.”
“Still impressive. Maybe you’ll dance with me sometime? I was severely missing home tonight. Seeing your family—” His voice cracked. “Thank you for bringing me.”
She squeezed his hand. “I will gladly dance with you anytime.”
Four hours later they were all at a pub in downtown Killarney. She whispered to the bartender, “Know any folk musicians who could come down here and start playing within the next thirty minutes or so?”
He looked at her incredulously and she slipped him a very handsome tip. “I’ll make it worth their time—and yours for being so very helpful.”
Then she settled in a long booth with the rest of the family and waited nervously for the musicians to arrive and as more time passed decided she was an idiot as doubts plagued her.
Mamó had immediately set her gaze on a game of cards in progress and left them to join in. Obviously, she was well-known and loved, because after much ado, she was settled in with an ale in one hand and cards in the other.
A plate of fish and chips and a few pints later, Alexandra breathed a sigh of relief as four men, instruments in hand, entered. The pub was starting to fill up with the dinner crowd, so only she noted their arrival, but then the music started and everyone’s eyes turned to the stage.
Oh shit, what was I thinking?
Oh, what the hell.
Alexandra stood and started dancing. Without looking, she knew all eyes were on her, but she focused solely on Jonathon. A blush rose up his cheeks and then he smiled. With a small laugh, she repeated the pattern and then pointed at him.
He pointed at himself shyly, and she nodded. He shook his head, and she danced, repeating the steps. She pointed at him again. By now she had the whole crowd on her side, and they quickly egged him into joining her on the floor.
Smiling softly, Jonathon left the table and watched her moves closely. When she finished the set, repeated her pattern and then added harder steps for her to match. She nodded and stepped in as he stepped out. She repeated the pattern perfectly, and the crowd cheered a bit.
She created a new pattern and then motioned him in. This time she didn’t back away when he completed the pattern, instead dancing beside him. After the pattern rotation, she angled to mirror him, and as he repeated the pattern, she mirrored the moves instead of merely doing them as he was.
Next thing she knew, they were dancing together…pushing each other to harder and harder patterns. She looked up to see a sea of cell phones. Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
She kept smiling, chin up, shoulders back. The wave of dizziness hit her out of the clear blue. When the song finished, she collapsed against him, making it look like a hug, and was glad when he realized she needed help and partially supported her weight as they returned to the table. When they were out of earshot of patrons, he whispered frantically, “Are you okay?”
“Might have overdone it a bit.”
She got settled into the booth, and he slid in next to her, kissing her. “Thank you, that was amazing but you shouldn’t have pushed yourself too hard on my behalf.”
Alexandra blushed, “I’m falling in love with you, Jonathon. I just want you to like me a little in return.”
He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, “Mistress, trust me when I say, I do like you.”
Too late, they realized the pub was filling with more than patrons when several paparazzi started flashing photos. The two Secret Service agents stood between the reporters as Gabe, Conor, and Jonathon got her, Karen, Rowan and Mamó outside and into their vehicles without incident.
ONCE THEY WERE inside the SUV, Gabe demanded, “Can someone tell me what just happened in there?”
“Tired. Overdid it a little, that’s all. No worries,” Alexandra responded.
Conor demanded, “Were you dizzy?”
Alexandra whispered under her breath, “Maybe a little.”
“Was it your heart?” Conor asked, “I’m calling Dr. Claassen.”
“You’ll do no such thing!”
Gabe watched the color drain from her face and recognized it as fear. “What’s going on, sweetheart? I was just asking how paparazzi knew to find us there, but now I’m wanting to hear more about how one dance made you dizzy.”
“I’m fine, Gabe. Honestly. I just got a little overwhelmed.”
He nodded and caught her free hand, and when he did, she looked down to see she was clutching Jonathon’s hand so tight her knuckles were white. She released his fingers, whispering, “Sorry.”
Jonathon winked and whispered, “It’s okay.”
Gabe tried to read her expression but could only guess. He’d been completely taken off guard when the news crews started showing up. He didn’t miss the look that passed between Xandra and Conor. Now what’s that about?
Conor asked softly, “You’ll go home and go to bed?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“Tomorrow, back to three meals and three snacks a day, no arguments?”
Gabe didn’t like Conor’s dominant tone, but bit his tongue. He’d promised to not interfere, but then her gaze slid down dismissively, and his guts knotted.
She sounded petulant when she answered, “I promise, Conor.”
“No more running,” Conor added. “You’ve been burning three times the calories you’re consuming. You are so far in a deficit. That’s why Karen wanted the intervention in the first place.”
“I have to run!” She glared at Conor and her tone turned venomous. “I already explained this to you.”
“Why, Alexandra? Why is running suddenly so important?” Gabe asked.
She met Gabe’s gaze. “I’m fucking bored out of my mind! I don’t vacation well. I’m sorry. Running gives my brain something to focus on. Can we please all take the focus off the girl and put it on this guy’s mad dance skills?”
Alexandra patted Jonathon’s stomach a little harder than necessary. His abs tightened and he oomphed. She whispered, “Sorry.”
♥ ♥ ♥
After four days in bed and more food than she ever wanted to see in her life, she crept downstairs and found the house deserted. Well, except for the agent on her heels. “Where is everyone?”
Suddenly she heard gunfire and started.
“It’s fine, ma’am.”
“That was gunfire!”
The agent nodded. “They said something about wild-fowl hunting, ma’am.”
“Wild fowl?” She frowned.
“From what I gathered, it’s nearing the end of the season for red-legged partridge, cock pheasant, woodcock, and curlew. To be honest I wouldn’t be able to identify any of those things on sight, but guessing they’re local birds. It’s my understanding Gabe takes his grandmother hunting each year.”
“Bird? Hunting? That’s disturbing.” Alexandra poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the small kitchen table. “What the fuck is a curlew?”
“I wouldn’t have the slightest idea, ma’am. Perhaps it’s like a turkey? There was a discussion about providing you with a Thanksgiving dinner since you aren’t home with your family this week.”
“That is so sweet.” She made a pouty face after googling Irish Curlew and pulled up a video of a water fowl with long legs and beak. She pressed play and a soulful, haunting bird song filled the silence. “Dear lord! They plan to kill these? They sound so beautiful!”
The agent came to stand near her and said, “Huh. That’s no turkey.”
“Nope,” she agreed, ending the video and placing her phone screen down. She spied the pile of mail forwarded from Gabe’s Ohio address and saw the issue of Vogue at the bottom of the stack. It was the holiday issue, and she was on the cover, wearing the entirely too-red strapless evening gown. Her eyes blazed an alarming shade of green. She decided both dress and eyes must have been color enhanced. She flipped through the pages, remembering all the touristy spots where they had posed. She smiled with the recollection that the producer happened to have tuxes for her men…just in case.
She turned the page, seeing a photo snapped of her and Conor. Her brow furrowed. They hadn’t posed for it; the photographer must have snapped the shot when they were too distracted…by each other…to notice. The frozen-in-time expression on his face was so intense, so heartbreaking. Their lips were close enough to touching. If she’d only lifted her face a fraction, their mouths would have met.
As the soft light of dawn filtering through the kitchen’s windows, her mind replayed every erotic detail…again and again.
She sipped coffee and focused on the mesmerizing photos, remembering the last time they were alone and naked together. She felt herself growing wet and wiggled in her seat. Dear lord. “Do you mind turning on the morning news, Agent?”
“Of course, ma’am.”
The small kitchen television came to life, and though she’d asked for it to be turned on for the noise, she barely paid attention.
Conor came down the stairs and chided, “You promised to sleep in this morning.”
Just having him in the room, her heart started racing. She wanted him desperately. Her pussy clenched in agreement. She nodded into her coffee cup before sipping. “My body is fully willing. My brain? Not so much.”
He poured himself a cup and sat across from her. He reached his hand to cover one of hers, resting on the bar.
She pushed the magazine toward him, complaining, “They airbrushed and color enhanced me.”
Conor flipped through the pages. “Why do you say that?”
She snorted. “I’m not that pretty.”
Conor leaned over the table and tilted his head to meet her gaze. “You’re right, you’re prettier than that glossy picture.”
“We’re alone. Kiss me,” she whispered.
Aware of their audience, Conor whispered, “Come upstairs. You need rest. The pace you’ve kept since being here tells us you’re still riding the wave of mania, which should be controlled by your medication. Is this the way it’s to be until you are able to resume your medication?”
She nodded but didn’t comment.
“Any chance it’s going to get worse?”
Alexandra lowered her gaze and nodded again.
Conor turned away, no kiss. “Anything noteworthy in the news?”
Alexandra exhaled frustration, admitting, “I was barely listening. I heard ‘cooler temperatures’ and ‘rainy all week’; from there I lost interest. I muted it. I want warm breezes and blinding sunshine.”
“We are going into winter. It was bound to happen,” he reminded her. “Gabe mentioned that Brian said they had their first big snow.”
“What?” Alexandra frowned. “He talked to Brian?”
“They were at the pub the morning after the reunion?”
“Oh. Right. I’d put his being there out of my mind.” She glanced up, seeing her name on the television. She nodded toward the screen. “Fucking reporters, I suppose Brian wanted to complain about me for further humiliating the family name.”
“Perhaps that too.” He stood and walked behind her to rub her shoulders. “Gabe might have mentioned that Brian doesn’t understand why you’ve allowed yourself to become a cheapened reality star.”
She waved away the comment, not wanting to hear Brian’s ignorant opinions. “Tell me he had news about Nowhere, Montana. That’s all I really care about. I’m certain in the time since I fled the flood, it receded. Has the repair work begun?”
Conor lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “He did mention an anonymous donor had sent a huge restoration workforce to rebuild the town to its original historic glory.”
She shrugged with a teasing roll of her eyes.
“He also said Sarah dropped to her knees and sobbed when she learned the donor insisted the diner be rebuilt and expanded to be home to both the diner and a bed-and-breakfast. You don’t know anything about that, do you?”
She smiled. “I think she will be amazing in her newly expanded role.”
He pointed at the television. “Good Lord, what did you do now, mo chroí?”
“Hmmm? No telling.” She looked to see her face, name written in boldface with the tagline SCANDAL. She pivoted on her stool, coffee in hand. “Jesus, I have no idea. The paparazzi currently know more about my life than I do.”
The agent turned the volume up. The female newscaster said, “It seems local personality Dr. Alexandra Van Zant cannot manage to stay out of the news for a single day. Rumors have confirmed she will be on several UK tabloid covers after being spotted flaunting her men in both Dublin and Killarney, Ireland.”
There were flashes of her kneeling and sobbing at Siobhan’s grave site.
“Jesus, turn it off.” She covered her eyes. “Please. Off! Off!”
The agent didn’t turn off the television, and she looked to see why. Conor was holding up a finger, explaining the delay.
Insets showed the covers of the gossip rags, and she realized the photos had been taken inside the pub. “Seriously? That just happened! How can they be so fucking fast?”
“Wait?” the agent asked. “On or off?”
“Fuck, wait a moment so I can see where this is going,” Conor instructed.
“From flaunting her men in the States to kicking up her heels in Ireland, her edgy fashion sense and love for stilettos have been noted on many occasions, and apparently the latest issue of Vogue has hit the newsstands. I haven’t seen it, but we can hope for more glimpses of her men.”
Alexandra raged at the television. “That’s not true! I don’t flaunt you.”
“Oh you flaunt us, baby.”
“I danced with Jonathon in a pub. That’s not flaunting; it’s just having a little fun.” She watched the pictures of her and her men flash across the screen, then turned on Conor with a scowl but broke into a smile, seeing he was teasing. “Can I help that I like having three men all to myself?”
“The media is fixated on your men too.”
Alexandra pointed at the cover of Vogue. “Nope, me on the cover. So sorry to disappoint.”
The agent turned off the television as Gabe and Mamó returned victorious. Gabe carried a string of dead wild birds over his back, the sight of which sent Alexandra running from the room. Conor found her hung over a toilet, vomiting. Gabe was immediately behind Conor, no birds, and his jacket removed. “Are you all right?”
“The birds. I wasn’t mentally prepared to see them.” She vomited again. ”You killed curlew.”
GABE FELT HORRIBLE realizing he’d caused her more distress. He knew she was a pescetarian, but he never considered how seeing dead animals might affect her.
“I know you went to a lot of trouble, but I’m not going to be able to eat them.” She bent over the toilet and gagged, then wiped her mouth and face with the cloth Conor had gotten wet for her.
“I didn’t expect you to. Mamó has a whole salmon ready to be prepared as well.”
She stood shakily. “Thanksgiving dinner?”
He smiled. “I know you wanted to be in our own home by now and how disappointed you must be not being home with your family for the holiday.”
“Sometimes my expectations can be unrealistic for normal people.” She admitted, then bent over the sink and rinsed out her mouth. “Can you make colcannon?”
“I can make anything you want, sweetheart,” Gabe told her.
She straightened. “All I want is colcannon and pumpkin pie with heavy sweet cream, and I will be as happy as I can be.”
He watched her closely, seeing that she was still shaking. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You are always so thoughtful. Thank you for coming to Montana to rescue me.”
Gabe kissed her, the truth too real that he could have lost her a dozen different ways in Montana. “You’d already saved yourself, mo ghrá.”
“From the assassin, but not from myself. I was in a pretty dark place when you showed up.”
“I recognized in your voice you were slipping off the precipice. I’m glad you didn’t fall.” He slid his hands under her ass, and she jumped to wrap her legs and arms around him.
She whispered against his ear, “I need you.”
Gabe covered her mouth, kissed her deeply, and then carried her upstairs to their bed. He laid her down. “Rest awhile. Let me make you some lunch, and then after, if you are no longer shaking, I will make love to you.”
“Maybe I’m shaking because I want you so badly.”
“Hmmm.” He rubbed his face against hers. “If that were only true. I like it too much when you tremble against me, when you whimper and cry out, and before I do anything I regret, I want you fed, rested.”
“I like it when you rub your scratchy face on mine.”
“Yeah? Which is better: freshly shaved or a few days’ growth?”
She smiled wickedly and rubbed her palm against his cheek. “That isn’t a fair choice. Both are fabulous for different reasons. Like now, a little scratchy—”
She slid her hands into her pants and started touching herself, smiling naughtily. “You should go make me lunch.”
His gaze followed her hand. “You’re killing me.”
“I’ll still be here when you get back. I won’t guarantee I won’t be done by then, the urge past—”
Gabe stood and jerked down her pants. Her fingers didn’t lose their rhythm over her clit. He climbed onto the bed and pushed her knees apart so he could kneel between her thighs. For a moment he watched her fingers, but when she moaned softly, he caught her wrist and pulled her hand away. He rubbed his cheek against the inside of her thigh, and her body responded. She arched her back and moaned. “Don’t tease; I’m too close.”
“All the more reason to tease.” He rubbed his cheek against the other thigh.
Alexandra reached for her clit with the other hand, and made two small circles over her sensitive nub, sighing with relief, but then he was dragging her hand away. He held both wrists to her sides.
“Gabe! Please.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“Lick my clit?”
He met her gaze over her torso. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
She bounced on the mattress. “Yes! Begging. Please lick me.”
He arched his eyebrow.
“Rub your stubble over my clit.”
He smiled and immediately granted her request, rubbing his cheek softly over her clit. He purposely left the hood covering the pearl of her sex in place, but still she cried out. “Too much, too much!”
“Take it for me. Come for me.” He kept sliding his face, cheek to chin, over her sensitive parts.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” He watched as she writhed beneath him, her head tossing and turning. He slid a single finger inside her, curled it up, and rubbed against her G-spot. Alexandra started keening as she raised and dropped her hips.
“That’s it; take what you need. Come for me, beautiful girl.”
She shrieked, and he felt her wetness increase. He licked and sucked her clit while she came, and kept licking long after she collapsed, breathless.