Chapter 150
Alessandro’s fingers lingered beneath my chin, waiting for me to speak, to move, to give in again.
But I didn’t. Not this time.
I slowly pulled back, my hands dropping to my lap as I sat back on my heels. My eyes met his, still ocean blue, still burning but mine were different now. Hollow. Raw. Bare.
“Drive,” I said hoarsely. His brows lifted, caught between amusement and confusion. “What?”
I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, a laughless sound escaping me. “I said drive. Take me home. Or drop me in the middle of nowhere. I don’t care.”
His expression sharpened, the mirth bleeding out like spilled ink. “You don’t care?” he echoed, low and dangerous.
I shook my head, throat tightening. “No. Not right now, of course you know I need you but… we in public…,
“Should I drive you to a secluded place?“,
I nodded then I climbed back into the passenger seat, my limbs heavy, throat sore, and heart thudding in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with surrender.
Neither of us spoke as he drove. The lights thinned. The city receded. We slipped deeper into quiet roads where no one would find us.
My pride flared but it was a dying flame.
The ache between my legs was unbearable. My pants felt like a prison. And my body, traitorous and flushed, was already responding, already shifting toward him. My mind screamed no, but my hands were already bracing on his thighs, already pulling myself up into the seat.
The moment he parked the car, I straddled him, awkwardly at first, the tight space of the car forcing us close. Too close. My knees pressed on either side of his hips, and I could feel him still hard, still smug, still completely in control. I didn’t meet his eyes.
My forehead pressed against his, my breath coming in shallow pants. I could feel his heartbeat through his shirt, could feel the tension in his muscles coiled and waiting.
He still didn’t speak.
His hands came up, not forceful just there. Resting on my hips. Waiting for me to decide.
“I hate you,” I whispered
“I know,” he murmured then he leaned back, arms draped over the seat like he wasn’t the one wrecking me from the inside out. “But look at you,” he murmured. “So desperate. So obedient.”
I hated how my body responded to that voice.
“It’s only because I want a release“,
With shaking hands, I undid my jeans, pushing them down just enough. The cold air kissed my skin, but it did nothing to cool the … tearing through me. I reached for him, already bare/ already hard again, waiting.
I braced myself against the seat behind him and sank down slowly, painfully slowly onto him. The stretch knocked the air from my lungs. My head tipped back, a soft, strangled sound escaping my lips as he filled me inch by inch.
“Fuck,” Alessandro growled. His hands immediately gripping my hips like he was trying not to lose control. Like he needed to hold back before
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Chapter 150
he wrecked me.
But I was already wrecked.
And I wanted to feel something. Anything. Even if it was him.
I started to move slowly, rhythm clumsy at first, breath shallow. Every inch was torture, too much, too good. He filled me like he always did: completely. Fully. Like there was no room for anything else. No shame. No resistance. Just him.
My hands pressed against his chest, nails digging in for balance, for sanity. Every thrust sent sparks down my spine. Every grind of my hips burned away what little resolve I had left. I rode him like I was trying to outpace the truth, like I could use my body to silence everything else inside me.
His mouth found my neck, teeth grazing skin, hands gripping me tighter. “You feel so fucking good,” he growled. “So damn perfect.”
I bit my lip, choking on a moan. My hands curled into his shoulders, nails digging in. “Don’t talk,” I whispered. “Just… don’t.” I stammered.
He obeyed. For once, but the rhythm between us deepened, rough and raw and maddeningly slow. His hips lifted to meet mine, making me feel every inch of him. My body answered him, traitorous and slick, clenching around him until I couldn’t breathe.
His fingers slid up my spine, the gentleness almost cruel. I hated how he could be rough and tender in the same breath. How he could ruin me with a look, then cradle me like I was something fragile.
I buried my face in his shoulder, biting down on the thick fabric of his coat to stifle the sounds breaking free from my throat.
He was deep inside me, every thrust claiming more of me than I ever wanted to give. And still, I gave it. All of it.
My walls clenched around him again, tighter this time, pleasure coiling at the base of my spine like a fuse about to ignite.
He felt it. I could tell.
His breath hitched, chest rising in stuttered waves.
I tried to stay silent. I tried to hold it in. But a sob, half–moan slipped from my lips as I shattered around him again. My body bucked, vision swimming as the orgasm tore through me, cruel and consuming.
He growled low in my ear and gripped my hips, thrusting up into me once, twice, then came hard, burying himself deep, his release hot and raw inside me.
I collapsed against him, trembling, too wrung out to speak. My cheek pressed to the side of his throat, damp with sweat. I there, thudding fast and wild. Matching mine.
For a long time, neither of us moved.
The windows were fogged over. My thighs ached. My throat felt bruised from holding back every word I wasn’t ready to say.
Eventually, his hand came up, fingers tangling in my hair. “Good boy,” he spoke.
“I told you not to talk“, I whispered back.
feel the pulse
A FORCED CONTRACT MARRIAGE WITH THE DEVIL
