Alexius: Chapter 12

It’s been hours since Alexius left. If it weren’t for Mirabella, I probably would have died having to deal with the last guests on my own. But thankfully, I got through it, and now I’m fucking exhausted. All I want to do is get out of this dress, take a hot bath, and climb into bed so I can close my eyes and wake up tomorrow morning, one day closer to the end of my agreement with Alexius.

I slip off my shoes and let them dangle from my fingers as I walk barefoot down the hall. My feet are killing me, today being the longest I’ve ever spent in heels. One would think working as a waitress would make me used to this, but my feet strongly disagree.

The sound of whispering voices drags my attention to a door left slightly ajar. Curiosity has me sneaking closer, and I press my palm against the cold wall as I lean against it.

“We should stop doing this,” a woman’s voice rasps.

“Then you should stop being so eager to suck my cock.” It’s Isaia, and I edge toward the opening and peer inside. My stomach flips, and I lose my breath when I see him completely naked with his back turned toward me. A soft gasp rushes from my lips, and I place my palm in front of my mouth as I jerk back, straightening against the wall.

“I can’t help it,” the woman says. “Nothing tastes as good as your dick on my tongue.”

“Then sit the fuck down and start sucking, woman.”

My heart races, and I swallow hard as heat blooms in my belly. I know I shouldn’t look. I should just go to my room and try to ignore everyone in this goddamn house. But I can’t. Something has my feet bolted to the floor, and I’m again inching to the edge, wanting to see more.

I can’t see his face, his arms outstretched as he grips the bar that stretches from one bedpost to the other above his head, his hips moving, and her moans growing louder. Even from a distance, it’s impossible to miss how sexually charged his body is, the erotic flex of every firm muscle that ropes from his back down to his tight ass and thighs. The veins in his arms bulge while his knuckles turn white from tightening his hold on the iron bar.

There’s a flash of blonde hair and a glimpse of the woman’s head bobbing in front of him, and I’m utterly captivated by them, my curiosity about what it would feel like having sex making it impossible to walk away.

“Fuck,” Isaia groans, and the sound cuts straight to the slick heat between my legs. He lets go of the bar and reaches in front of him, pulling the woman’s hair so her face leans to the side. “Today, I won’t be coming in your mouth. I want to cream that pussy of yours since I’ve been hard for days thinking about your wet cunt.”

I’m hardly breathing as I watch him lean down and latch on to her lips, kissing her like he’s been starved for her taste. I’ve never seen anyone kiss like that, his tongue rolling and exploring her mouth before he bites her bottom lip. She hisses, then touches the broken flesh and glances at the blood on her fingertip. It’s not supposed to turn me on, but it does—the wild, savage lust that makes him not care about hurting her.

“Now get on all fours so I can fuck you in the way you came here to be fucked.”

“And how’s that?” she asks.

He takes her chin between his fingers and lifts her face toward him while he leans down. “Like a fucking animal.” Abruptly, he slaps her cheek, her flesh instantly blooming with fire. For a second, I forget that I’m not supposed to be here, that I’m not supposed to watch—and I gasp, the softest sound escaping my lips. They don’t hear me. Thank God. Isaia is too lost in his need to fuck while she’s completely intoxicated by him.

My skin prickles, hungry to be touched. And no matter how my mind screams at me to stop and walk away, my body is incapable of obeying.

Isaia moves, and I bite my lip at the sight of his hard cock, his palm wrapping around the swollen girth, stroking himself as he rounds the bed. I slip back an inch, afraid he might see me with him facing in my direction, my cheeks burning because this is such an invasion of privacy, but I can’t fucking stop.

My lips part at the sight of his face, the lust and desire that cuts along every edge, brown eyes now almost black as he stares down at her ass. There’s a sheen of sweat on his sculpted chest, his body tight and ready to fuck.

He slides his fingers down the curve of her back, all along her spine, staring at her body as if he worshipped it and the pleasure it gives him. I’m not prepared when he lifts his arm and smacks her ass with a loud crack, and I suck in a breath, my body rigid with a need I’ve never experienced before. The way she moans out loud, her eyes closed and mouth forming the perfect O—she’s enjoying it, loving the sting of his palm against her naked flesh. There’s still a pink blush that lingers on her cheek, and I wonder what her ass looks like, stained with the print of his palm.

“I want to hear you,” Isaia demands, his voice dark and low. “I want your screams to peel the motherfucking paint off these walls. You understand me?”

She nods, but clearly, it’s not enough for Isaia, so he grabs her behind her neck and forces her face down onto the mattress.

“Do you understand me?” he bites out while reaching down with his other hand and rears back.

“Yes,” she mutters through pursed lips, her cheek firmly forced against the navy-blue sheets. The moment he sinks into her from behind, his eyes roll closed, and my thighs are soaked. It’s insane and so fucking wrong, but I’m aching to touch myself while watching him fuck her and hearing her cries fill the room. I’m so entranced, drunk on their desire, and I forget that I’m not supposed to be here.

Suddenly, he looks up, and our eyes lock, my blood instantly running cold. I’m frozen on the spot, mortified that I’ve been caught yet incapable of moving while his gaze pins me in place.

A sly grin tugs at the edges of his lips, and he tightens his hold behind the woman’s neck, forcing her face harder against the mattress. His touch is cruel, as if he wants to smother her while he races toward his climax. I don’t know why the thought of it leaves me breathless, the anticipation heightened and intoxicating. My entire body is alive with the eroticism that emanates from him, his primal lust controlling his every move.

Isaia pounds into her—harder, faster, not taking his eyes off mine. His nostrils flare, his expression fierce and feral, biting his bottom lip, and all I can do is look back at him, lost in the vise of lechery that has him fucking her so hard, she screams out, “I’m going to come.”

“Don’t you dare move,” he says, and I’m unsure who he’s talking to. Her…or me?

“Isaia, I’m coming.”

“Stay with me.”

His words wrap around me like chains that burn my skin, my heated core aching with a need for relief.

“Fuck.” His eyes roll closed, every muscle in his chest pulled taut, his hips slamming into her with sharp, hard thrusts as if he’s punishing her, not caring whether he hurts her.

A groan ruptures from his lips, and I know he’s coming inside her, pleasure plastered all over his face.

I’ve never been this lost in a moment, and when he opens his eyes, perspiration on his face shimmering under the dim light, a devious smirk pulls at his lips. Every immoral intention and wicked misdeed reflects in his dark irises. It’s the same look I saw in Alexius’ eyes earlier when he tied the rope of his threats around my throat.

This is not the Isaia who showed me a kindness by walking me down the aisle. This is someone different.

Mirabella’s right. They are all the same. They’re all monsters.

A wave of embarrassment crashes over me, and I drop my shoes to the ground, taking a step back…and another until I’m finally able to break the spell and look away before running down the hall toward my room, slamming the door behind me and falling back against it.

My chest burns with every rapid breath, my insides turned and twisted by the thought of me being so brazen, so fucking stupid. But he was clearly eager to indulge my curiosity, allowing me to watch him fuck while looking me in the eye from across the room.

Isaia.

My husband’s brother.

“Oh, my God.” I sigh, placing a palm on my forehead, struggling to catch my breath. My flesh still burns, the air in the room clinging to my skin like it’s a hundred and four degrees.

It’s a struggle to tear myself from the dress that suddenly weighs a thousand pounds, aggravating my skin and squeezing my lungs.

I suck in oxygen as the dress pools around my feet on the plush carpet, and I lift my legs to step out of it, then dart toward the bathroom as if I can find my escape there.

My pulse is still racing, my heart hammering against my ribs as I watch the bathtub fill up. Lavender bursts through the room, the floral scent slowly easing away the tension that has my body in chains.

The water is still running when I get into the tub, and I lie down, the water rising to my shoulders before I let myself collapse, closing my eyes and breathing out. The warm water and lavender work the tension from my body, and as my heartrate slows, I become hyperaware of the ache that still lingers between my legs.

It’s impossible to relax, not while the image of Isaia’s naked body and the look of ecstasy on that woman’s face refuse to disappear. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed, the way he forced her head into the mattress, bending her body and arching her back while he fucks her, selfishly seeking his own pleasure. It should disgust me to see what a savage he truly is. But it doesn’t. It thrills me—the way Isaia so unapologetically allowed his desire to control him, how he used that woman, making her scream.

I wonder what it feels like having a man so tied up with the need to fuck you that he has no choice but to unleash the animal in him.

The throbbing between my thighs becomes almost unbearable, and I run my hands over my body, imagining Isaia’s fingers slowly gliding down her spine as he stares down at her sex, open and exposed for him.

Dipping my hands below the water and reaching down, I suck air through my teeth when I slip a finger through my slit. Even underwater, I can feel the slickness of my arousal, my body overwhelmed with sensations I’ve never felt before while I stroke myself.

I’ve never been with a man, and I can only imagine what it feels like to be filled and stretched, having the thick girth of a hard cock fuck me without mercy. My finger finds my clit, and I moan with every stroke against the tiny nub. At first, it’s Isaia’s face I see, fucking the blonde from behind with his eyes pinned on mine. Crouching forward, I reach down low, slipping a finger inside me, shuddering from the welcome intrusion. But Isaia’s face is gone, the image of him behind that girl replaced with Alexius’ face, staring down at me as I writhe beneath him. His blue eyes are filled with desire and mirror my own, and I imagine dragging my fingertips down his naked chest, feeling every curve, every strong muscle. I lift my hips searching for him, wanting him inside me, and I practically feel him sinking slowly into me, stretching me, filling me to the brim with his hard length.

The closer my body edges to ecstasy, the more vivid the fantasy of my husband becomes. I need to feel his cock move inside me, his fingers biting painfully into my hips as he forces me down. My heart pounds, and my fingers stroke harder, faster, spreading my pussy lips and rubbing against my clit. I imagine his lips on my neck, his teeth biting down on my collarbone as he growls and fucks me as unapologetically as Isaia fucked his woman.

“Oh, God.” I can’t hold it back anymore. I can’t stop it, and I press my hand harder against my sex, my fingers working along the outline of my pussy before finding my clit, imagining Alexius’ fingers rubbing against it, intensifying the erotic pleasure that’s rippling through my insides.

“Alexius, I’m going to—”

“Not yet.”

“Jesus!” Water splashes over the edge of the clawfoot bathtub, slapping on the tiles as I jerk upright, locking eyes with Alexius standing only a few inches away. Blue irises stare at me, his face nothing but hard lines and sharp angles. He seems bigger, taller as he stalks closer, his heavy presence absorbing the air in the room. His hand is on his belt, drawing my attention to the bulge in his pants, and heat spreads through my lower belly knowing he’s hard.

“You’re going to wait for me first,” he murmurs, his words fortified with a demanding edge that both intimidates and excites me.

I swallow hard. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Keep your hands between your legs.”

For the second time in one night, embarrassment floors me, snatching all the air from my lungs. “How long have you—”

“Long enough.” He takes a step closer, his ink-black hair fanning across his sharp cheekbones, and his crystal eyes burn with a hypnotic blue flame that threatens to turn me to ash. “You said my name.”

The Earth tilts on its axis, and the room goes darker, stealing the fire from my cheeks. “I did not.”

“Liar.” He leans his head to the side, absorbing me with a gaze that commands. “Finish what you started.” His voice is a low thrum of authority that bends my will and entices me to obey. But beneath the urge to submit is a brittle layer of defiance fueling me to fight my attraction for the devil and his daring countenance. “Get out. You have no right being in here.”

“Of course I do. You’re my fucking wife.”

“Get out!” My ass slips on the porcelain, and more water cascades over the rim.

Alexius remains undeterred, not even acknowledging my demand with a simple fucking blink. “Finish. It,” he bites out.

“Get. Out.” Our eyes are locked in a fierce display of challenge. But I know there’s no way I can win, his power and authority filling the bathroom and wrapping around my throat.

“I’m going to say this one last time, wife.” He steps closer, and I’m trapped inside the tub—a prey trapped by its predator. “Play with your pussy and make yourself come.”

My cheeks burn, fear weaving through the ache that has intensified threefold since Alexius walked in. No matter how much I want to disobey and tell him to fuck off, I can’t. I’m too lost in the moment. The lust. Too lost in him.

With a sudden jerk of his arm, his fingers dig into my throat, and I gasp for breath. “Either you play with your cunt and finish what you started, or you’ll choke on my cock.”

The threat is there, crystallized in his eyes as he stares at me with nothing but wicked intentions in his eyes. It should heighten my fear of him, but it doesn’t. It’s not like this morning before the wedding when he made it clear that he’s a cold-hearted bastard. It’s different now, the heated ache in my lower belly drowning out the terror he instills so fucking easily.

His fingers tighten, and I crane my neck, my lips parted. I’d be a liar if I said I’ve ever felt more alive than I do right now, every nerve ending lit with tension. It’s like my hate for him blends with the arousal that’s threatening to break me in half, creating something potent enough to drown me.

I reach between my legs, hesitant and self-conscious, practically feeling his eyes on my heated skin, and slip a finger through my pussy.

“Good girl. Now tell me, what was I doing when you said my name?”

I swallow hard, humiliation clinging to my flesh—and I wish he would leave, yet my body wants him to stay. What the fuck is this? What is happening right now?

“Tell me, Leandra. What was I doing?”

My eyes close. “You were…we were having sex.”

“That’s not what I asked. I asked what I was doing. Not us.”

I suck my bottom lip. “You were kissing my neck, biting down on my collarbone.”

The sound of him unzipping his pants sends a jolt of energy up my spine.

“Am I inside you?”

“Yes,” I whisper, my finger brushing along my clit.

“How does it feel? My hard cock inside your dripping cunt?”

I exhale a breath. “Good.”

His fingers tighten, pressing hard and making it almost impossible to breathe. But I don’t care. All I care about is getting rid of the tension suffocating me faster than Alexius’ grip around my throat.

“Open your eyes,” he rasps close to my ear, and I hate that I obey so easily. It’s like I no longer control anything I do. It’s the anticipation. The hunger. The need to come.

I look to the left and see his palm wrapped around his engorged cock, pumping his length. He’s bigger, longer, thicker than I imagined, the head of his dick glistening, and I lick my lips, thinking of the woman sucking Isaia’s cock. A part of me wants to know what it will feel like inside my mouth, but my hate for Alexius slithers through, and I bite the inside of my cheek, suppressing the craving for a taste.

“I’m not coming before you do. So, it’s up to you how long we stay in this fucking bathroom tonight.” The low thrum of his voice laced with desire and the sight of him pleasuring himself, moving his hand up and down his shaft—is driving me insane. And no matter how much the humiliation stings, the ache burns more. It’s the driving force that keeps my hand between my thighs, my fingers gliding along my pussy lips and finding my clit.

God. It’s right there. I can feel it rise inside me, the wave building, growing stronger. I want to close my eyes and surrender to it, but Alexius jerks my head to the side.

“Keep your eyes on my fucking dick.”

I bite my bottom lip, watching the skin of his cock slip forward and then stretch back as he pumps himself. Not once have I ever thought it would turn me on, seeing a man pleasure himself and having a man watch me do the same. Witnessing his cock grow harder and thicker with every stroke, the ache between my legs intensifies, and my pussy swells with a need to be stretched and sated. My body is electrified, and all I can think about is having Alexius inside me, to have his body melt against mine while our breaths fuse into heated gasps.

My hips start to rock to the rhythm of his palm working his length, water splashing around my naked body. The bubble bath no longer covers my breasts, but I’m too high to care.

Alexius lets go of my throat, and I’m a fucking mess when he cups my tit, rubbing his palm against my pebbled nipple.

“You’re close, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Tension builds between my legs, and a moan spills from my mouth.

“You’ve never been fucked before.”

I bite my bottom lip.

“That pussy of yours is aching to bleed, isn’t it? To be fucked like it’s the last goddamn cunt on Earth.”

“Jesus,” I murmur, my thoughts filled with filthy fantasies of incessant fucking. No matter how much I hate Alexius, he’s in my head. He’s all around me, and I’m high on him. High on the idea of him fucking me.

“Move those hips like you’re fucking me. Hard, fast, and out of. Fucking. Control.”

The glass breaks, and my body explodes into a million fragments of pleasure that clench around every muscle, and I can no longer keep my eyes open.

I cry out in ecstasy, and Alexius curses. “Fuck.”

Warm liquid squirts against my cheek, and euphoria detonates down my spine, and I’m instantly addicted to it–his pleasure. The moans he makes while he comes. The feel of his cum on my skin.

My finger continues to work my clit, extracting every last drop of pleasure before my body draws back and relaxes against the porcelain tub.

It’s impossible to catch my breath, my thighs still trembling and pussy pulsing.

“You dropped these.”

My head lolls to the side, and I open my eyes to find Alexius towering over the tub with my wedding shoes dangling from his fingers. Reality slams back into me, my skin instantly ice cold—except for where his cum still stains my cheek with the embarrassment of knowing that I loved its humiliation. It heightened my own pleasure, exposing a part of myself I never knew existed.

He lets the shoes fall onto the tiled floor. “If you want to watch my brother fuck, just ask. But for God’s sake, don’t stand and hide like a fucking stray dog. You’re a Del Rossa now. Own up to it.”

I’m too shocked to move, and my muscles clench tight when Alexius leans down, placing an icy kiss on my forehead before whispering, “Next time I catch your pleasuring yourself, I will fuck you.”

Oh. My. God.