Chapter Six

Aria Pov 

“Yes,” I said as the statement moved out of my mouth.

The single word hung between us, thick and irreversible. Alexander’s eyes darkened further, the last trace of restraint leaving his face. He rose onto his knees on the bed, the hard length of him level with my mouth, flushed and glistening from being inside me only moments before. The scent of us mixed with clean skin and the faint remaining soap from his shower.

I didn’t wait for further instruction.

I leaned forward and wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock, feeling the heavy throb against my palm. He was thick, the skin hot and smooth, the head already leaking a clear bead of precum. I licked it away with the flat of my tongue, slow, tasting salt and the lingering evidence of how deeply he had just fucked me. A low, rough sound left his chest.

“Open,” he ordered quietly.

I parted my lips and took him in.

The first stretch of my mouth around him pulled a soft moan from my throat. He was bigger than I expected once the head pushed past my teeth, the ridge sliding over my tongue. I took him deeper, inch by inch, until the blunt head nudged the back of my throat. My eyes watered. I didn’t pull away. I breathed through my nose and sank further, lips stretched tight around the thick shaft.

Alexander’s hand settled in my hair, not forcing, just holding. His fingers flexed when I hollowed my cheeks and sucked hard on the way back up.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Just like that.”

I did it again. Slow, deliberate, letting him feel every wet inch of my mouth. Spit gathered at the corners of my lips and slid down his length. I used it, stroking what I couldn’t fit, twisting my wrist on every upward pull. The wet sounds filled the quiet suite—obscene, rhythmic, impossible to mistake for anything else.

He watched me the entire time. I could feel the weight of his gaze like a second touch. When I glanced up through my lashes, the look on his face made my empty cunt clench. Hunger. Possession. The same expression he had worn when he first pushed inside me.

I took him deeper on the next pass, relaxing my throat, swallowing around the head. His hips jerked once before he controlled them. A thick pulse ran through his cock against my tongue.

“Easy,” he said, voice strained. “You keep that up and I won’t last.”

I didn’t want him to last. I wanted him ruined the same way he had ruined me on this bed. I sucked harder, bobbing my head in a steady rhythm, one hand working the base while the other cupped and rolled his tight sac. His breathing turned harsh. The muscles in his thighs flexed under my free hand.

Saliva dripped down my chin and onto my bare breasts. I didn’t care. I was lost in the act— the weight of him on my tongue, the way his cock twitched every time I took him to the root, the low, broken sounds he couldn’t fully hold back. My own arousal was a constant, heavy ache between my legs. Every time I swallowed around him, a fresh pulse of wetness slipped down my inner thigh.

Alexander’s grip in my hair tightened. He began to guide me, subtle at first, then more deliberate, fucking my mouth in short, controlled strokes. I moaned around him, the vibration making his head fall back for a second. When he looked down again his eyes were nearly black.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” he rasped. “Taking me so deep. Look at you. Chin wet, lips stretched, eyes watering—and still you suck me like you need it.”

I answered by taking him even deeper, until my nose brushed the dark hair at his base and my throat convulsed around him. Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. I held there, swallowing repeatedly, until my lungs burned. Only then did I pull back, gasping, a thick string of spit connecting my lower lip to the shiny head of his cock.

He didn’t give me long to recover.

He guided me back down and began to thrust in earnest—steady, deep strokes that used my mouth the way he had used my cunt. I relaxed and took it, one hand braced on his thigh, the other still stroking and squeezing whatever length I couldn’t fit. The wet, filthy sounds grew louder. My jaw ached. My throat felt claimed. I loved every second of it.

“I’m close,” he warned, voice gravel. “You going to swallow me, Aria? Or do you want me to paint those pretty tits?”

I moaned around him in answer and sucked harder, hollowing my cheeks, working him with everything I had. His rhythm faltered. His cock swelled even thicker against my tongue. A second later he came with a low, guttural sound, flooding my mouth in thick, hot pulses. I swallowed greedily, taking every spurt, milking him with my lips and tongue until he groaned and gently pulled me off.

A final bead of cum welled at the tip. I licked it clean, slow and thorough, then sat back on my heels, breathing hard, lips swollen and shiny.

Alexander stared down at me for a long moment, chest rising and falling, the last tremors still visible in his abdomen. His cock remained half-hard, glistening from my mouth. When he spoke again his voice was rough with residual pleasure and something darker.

“Come here.”

I crawled up the bed. He pulled me into his lap so I straddled him, my soaked cunt resting directly against the hot length of him. He was already thickening again between my folds. His hands gripped my ass, spreading me, letting the head of his cock nudge my entrance.

“You swallowed every drop,” he murmured against my mouth. “Good girl.”

Then he kissed me, deep and claiming, tasting himself on my tongue, and the night was nowhere near over.