by SR Jones
Some misanthropic, ex-soldier with a head full of memories I never examine, and a dislike of most people I meet. Great person to go into a relationship with.
I like some people. Damen, I love like a brother. Markos too. I have nothing but respect for Andrius. I like Stamatis and Cole. But, except for Stamatis, they all have one thing in common—they’re ex-military like me. I get them, and they get me. Most folks drive me fucking nuts with their banal chatter and stupid ideas.
Maya thinks I’m cold, I know she does, and she’s not wrong. I’m not cold around Stella, though. She makes me feel something that at times is white hot. I want to protect her from this world that I know is so bad, and she still thinks is good. In doing so, though, would I ruin her? Change her from the person she is into some hollowed-out woman who is either terrified of the world once she sees it as it is, or who becomes depressed at the state of it?
Am I depressed? Fuck. Maybe I am.
The bathroom door opens, and a chink of light illuminates the room. Stella is framed in the doorway, and she’s got her hair slicked to her head, wet and damp. It looks darker wet, a little. Her skin is clear of makeup. The fake tattoo is still there, but her beautiful eyes are back to their normal color, thank God.
She’s wearing nothing but a white cotton towel wrapped around her slender body, and she steps into the room, almost hesitant.
I’m hard for her straightaway. The flicker of a thought of what’s under the towel, nothing but naked, warm Stella, has me aching for her.
She walks into the room and shyly drops the towel. It’s as if the air stills. She doesn’t move. I don’t either. I stare at her as her chest rises and falls, her small breasts somehow vulnerable. I break the spell and step to her.
I finger a lock of her short hair and then kiss her cheek. It’s still damp. I want Stella, but I’ve wanted plenty of women in my time, and I’ve never felt a need to be tender with them the way I do with her.
She looks at me, and she’s unsure. It’s in her deep gaze and the way she nibbles her full lower lip.
I get it. I’m kind of unsure too.
“You’ve got too many clothes on,” she says with a soft laugh.
Reaching up to me, she pulls at my long-sleeved t-shirt, taking it over my head. When it’s off, she stands back a little and stares at me, then shakes her head. “You’re ridiculously gorgeous, do you know that?”
“So are you,” I murmur as my fingers trace her delicate collar bone.
She’s undoing the fly on my jeans and struggling. I still her fingers and do it myself. Just the feel of the denim moving over my aching erection is enough to make me shiver.
Stella takes me completely by surprise when she sinks to her knees and pulls my boxer briefs down, taking my erection in hand.
She looks at me for a long moment, and then she leans forward and tentatively licks the head of my dick.
I swear, nothing in my life has turned me on more than this moment. She’s on her knees for me, worshipping me almost. I let her explore as she licks at me and moves her hand up and down my shaft. I can’t help the response my body has, though, and a bead of pre-cum forms on the swollen tip. Stella looks at it, looks up at me through long, dark lashes, and then takes me into her mouth.
I thought I wanted control.
I thought I wanted to hold her hair and fuck her face, but I don’t do those things. Don’t need it.
This, her taking me at her own pace, giving me this, is enough. More than enough. It’s heaven.
I groan as she takes me deeper and adds suction.
I don’t want to come in her mouth. I’m not sure if she’s taken a man this way before. I gently cup the back of her head and pull free. She raises her brows at me in question, and I pull her up, needing her mouth on mine.
We’re kissing as we stand, letting our bodies melt into one another, and her arms are running over my back, up to my neck to tangle in my hair, as mine do the same to her.
We’re mapping one another’s bodies as our mouths explore and learn. She tastes of mint and lotion. It makes me smile.
We tumble onto the bed, and she ends up on top of me. We fit well, and her breasts brush my chest as she leans over me to kiss me again. I reach down between us and feel her already wet. She moans as my fingers part her folds, and she sits up, arching her back. It gives me a fantastic display of her body.
“You’re so wet,” I murmur.
“I have been all day.”
Her words slay me. She’s been ready like this, for me, all day? She wants me as much as I want her.
With a small smile, she lifts herself up, and taking hold of me, sinks down over my aching cock.
“Christ,” I hiss.
“No, just Stella.” She makes the joke on a gasp of exhaled breath as she impales herself on me.
I laugh at her lame joke.
Then she’s seated on me, and I’m not laughing anymore because I’m in heaven. She starts to move, and I let her set the pace. It’s slow, it’s glorious, and I don’t feel any need to hurry this up.
Often when I’m fucking, I like it hard and fast. I like the woman on her knees in front of me so I can stare at her pussy and ass while I fuck her.
Now, I only want to watch Stella’s face as she experiments and finds her rhythm. Emotions flit across her features, and each one is beautiful to see.
I need skin on skin, though, so I pull her down to me, until her top half touches mine, and we’re slick-sliding against one another as we work against each other, both reaching for the same thing.
She kisses me again, and I let her keep setting the pace of our fucking, but the kiss I take over. I claim her mouth, and she lets me, whimpering against me.
She’s grinding against me now and I can feel her mound rubbing against me. She’s making herself feel good, getting herself to where she needs to be. Using me. I fucking love it.
We’re in total sync as we basically rut against one another, kissing, holding each other tight, and pressing our lower bodies together, working one another.
She lifts her face up, breaking our kiss, and her lips part. “Alesso, oh, God, oh.” She throws her head back, and she comes.
The sight and sound of her losing it, and the feel of her contracting around me, set me off. I come so hard it takes me a moment to come to when it ends.
I’m still inside her, feeling all her glorious little aftershocks. I don’t soften; instead, I’m still hard for her. Fuck me, I want more.
Rolling her over so I’m on top, I kiss her neck, bite gently along her jaw, and wrap my hand around her throat, gentle as I turn her head one way to give me better access to her neck. I kiss and bite and lick as I start to move in her again.
We’re a wet, sloppy mess. My cum and her moisture combine to make this one noisy, damp fuck, but I don’t care. She doesn’t either because soon she’s making noises I’ve never heard her vocalize before.
She’s moaning and moaning, and not stopping, and I reach between us to press on her clit as I stroke her, and she flushes a gorgeous deep red as her cries intensify.
Her short nails rake my back as she clenches around me and comes again. I want to join her, badly, but I hold off as long as I can, watching her totally lose it. She comes like crazy, and her thighs are soaked as she bucks up against me, squeezing tight around me.
I can’t deny myself any longer, and I cry out as I tumble over the edge.
I hold her after as I try to parse what happened. I pull her into me, but it’s more than simply wanting her close; it’s needing to avoid her scrutiny.
She’s a shaky, damp, sweat-covered mess in my arms, and I hold her tight as I will my heart to calm. This wasn’t just fucking. It was so much more, and it scares me.
I think for the first time in my life, I just made love.
All my certainty that I want this flees, leaving me cold, despite the warm woman in my arms.
What the fuck am I doing?
Alesso is being weird. At first, I put it d
own to him getting his work head on, as it were, as he and the men went over plans for the auction again. But then, he didn’t come to my bed last night, leaving me cold and alone, wondering what had happened.
He’s the one who pushed this, not me. Him.
He came into my life, chased me down, found me and told me I was his. Now? Now, he’s retreated, and I can’t deny it hurts. It also makes me angry.
I don’t have the hair trigger temper Maya possesses, but more of a slow burn thing going on. But Alesso has lit the fuse alright, and I’m livid with him.
I hear him as I pass the study, and realizing I’m the topic under discussion, pause. Guiltily, I hold my breath and lean closer, straining to hear.
“Lacy is a fucking shit name.”
“It’s already on the documentation we sent to Stuart’s men,” Andrius responds. “I don’t like the women coming. We should have hired a couple of pros to be our escorts.”
“Violet would have had your balls if you’d done that,” Alesso scoffs.
“Maybe, but at least Justina wouldn’t have been re-traumatized, and what the fuck do you think is going to happen to innocent little Stella when she witnesses what’s going to go down?”
Alesso gives a short, dark laugh. “She’s not so innocent, Andrius. She shot two men.”
He sounds … proud.
“You told her yet she’s going as your slave?” Andrius asks.
His slave? I might not be worldly, but I know what a slave is, and that’s what I am supposed to be?
“No, but I will.”
“She better know how to act submissive.” Andrius sounds like he’s pacing the room now.
“Oh, she does. Don’t you worry. I’ll tell her what to do, and she’ll do it.”
The arrogant bastard. I want to go in there and slap Alesso across his stupid, handsome face. He’s acting as if I’m nothing to him, talking about me as if I’m totally under his spell, but he seemed pretty deep in whatever this is between us last night.
It hits me then. He’s scared. He did feel the connection last night when we had sex, I’m sure he did, and now he’s freaking out.
The damned coward. He chased me and chased me, but when he caught me, he couldn’t handle it.
Right, I’ll damn well show him.
I’m going to look so hot tomorrow night at the auction, he won’t know what to do with himself. And, I’m going to get some seduction pointers from Justina. The woman is like a stick of sex-dynamite. So far as I am aware, I’m straight, but I think I’d turn for her she’s that sexy.
Creeping away from the study door, I go on a search for Justina and find her lounging by the pool. She’s wearing a cotton long sleeved kaftan and, incongruously, Ugg boots on her feet.
It’s one of those early spring days. Not warm, but not cold. The sun is hot on my skin, but the breeze has a nip to it.
“Can I join you?” I ask Justina as I point to the empty lounger next to her.
She lifts her head to look my way, lowers her sunglasses, and smiles. “Of course.”
I sit and look at the pool for a moment, then turn to her. “I want to ask your advice.”
She smiles again. “You want to know how to get Alesso to fall madly in love with you?”
I shake my head. “Crap, am I that obvious?”
“Probably not to him. But to me, yes. I watch and observe people closely. I became an excellent judge of human nature, their intentions, and desires in my past life. I had to. So, I’ve seen you. You want him. He wants you too. So, what’s the issue?”
“He came after me,” I tell her and lay it all out for her. “It seemed to come out of nowhere. This … urge he seemed to have to make me his. He didn’t talk about love or anything of the sort, but he said he wanted to … control me. It was kind of messed up. Then last night we … we had sex, but it felt like something more, you know? Now, he’s avoiding me. Being all cold and distant, and I feel as if he’s playing some game, but only he knows the rules.”
She takes a deep breath and sits forward, wrapping her arms around her bare legs, just above the rolled down sheepskin cuff of her boots. “My knowledge of Alesso is that he doesn’t play games. Not purposefully, at least. He’s not one of those men who strings women along and lies to them, or at least not so far as I know. So, if he’s gone all cold on you after a hot and heavy session, my guess is, he’s freaking out.”
She laughs. “Men are so fucked up. They want intimacy, but then they can’t handle it. They want a connection, but have no clue how to get it, or when they do, how to maintain it. You know, in my past life, I had to … spend time with many men. Sort of escorting.”
She waves her arms as if it’s not important and speaks quickly. “It’s not important, what is important is what I learned.”
“What did you learn?” I’m dying to know about her past, but it’s clear from her demeanor it’s a total no-go, and I respect that.
“Most men are so out of touch with their true self and their emotions, they don’t even know what they are. And I am talking about normal men, you understand? I would have men pay me to hold me all night, talking to me about their day, their worries. They had wives. Women I am sure they could have talked to. I once asked one man who was unburdening himself to me why he didn’t tell his wife, and do you know what he said? I don’t know how.”
She sighs, and I can’t see her eyes because of her sunglasses, but her mouth tightens. “So sad, but so stupid. Such a waste. Now these men, the men under this roof? They’ve lived savage lives. Violent and dangerous. I think it makes them even less able to deal with emotions. They’re used to shutting things down. To being in total control of themselves for hours, days, or weeks on end. Andrius couldn’t deal with the feelings he had for Violet. Some of that was the situation, but much of it was purely the feelings themselves. He couldn’t cope with the feelings he had for her. He thought it made him weak, and in many ways it did, and has. Andrius has someone now he cares for more than life itself, and it’s a vulnerability he’s never had to deal with before. Alesso? He’s … I don’t know. He’s odd. Charming. Talkative when he wants to be. He seems so much more laid back than Andrius or Damen. But I think deep down, he’s more screwed up. He doesn’t seem to like humanity much. And I say that as someone else who doesn’t like humanity much.”
She takes a sip of her drink, and places it on the ground beside her. “You’re a good person, Stella. A nice girl, through and through. Have you considered this isn’t the best thing for you?”
“Violet’s nice, though.” I pluck at a loose thread on my jeans. “But she and Andrius work.”
Justina laughs. “Violet is nice, but she’s also crazy. Properly crazy. I mean you’d have to be to even remotely think about going anywhere near Andrius, right? In that way, I mean.” When she says ‘that way’, she mouths the words in an exaggerated manner, and it makes me laugh. “You’re not crazy. You’re nice. And you live in the normal world. Alesso lives in the dark underbelly. He’s more than aware of who and what he is. Not like Damen, who I think spends half the time fooling himself that he’s a nice guy. Or Andrius, who frankly does not care. Alesso knows what he is, and I think, deep down, where he probably never likes to look, I don’t think he likes it. And you are upset that he’s pulling away, but maybe you ought to be grateful? Go home when this is over. You’ll be safe when Yannis is taken care of, and you can get on with your life and meet a normal boy. I think the issue for you and Alesso is this: can he step out of the darkness and feel the light with you? Or will he drag you down with him?”
I nod and lean back, shielding my eyes from the sun as I think about her words. “Thank you,” I tell her.
“De nada,” she says, making smile with the impromptu Spanish.
Eyes closed, I think about what she’s said. She’s both right, mainly about men being messed up, but also wrong. I don’t think Alesso is dark. He burns brighter than the sun for me, he’s beautiful, and not only in his physical appearance, but the
way he treats me. I feel as if he truly sees me for who I am, not some fake version of the girl he wants me to be.
“One more thing I’ll add to my words of advice.” Justina’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “Alesso is a beautiful man. A very beautiful man. And because he doesn’t look like he’s been hewn from the side of a mountain, like Damen, or as if he’ll kill you for breathing, like Andrius, I think he’s the sort of man who is always going to get female attention.”
My heart sinks at her words because I know where she’s going with this. I’m not in his league. Not at all.
“You’re a stunningly beautiful woman, Stella. I mean, truly. You’ve got the bone structure of some silent era movie goddess. But you don’t see it. You’re awkward, and you’re nervous. You want Alesso? You’re willing to ignore all my warnings and go for it anyway because life’s too fucking short? Then step up and become the sort of woman a man like him would have on his arm. Tomorrow night, I’ll make you so heart-stoppingly-gorgeous, the men at that pitiful auction will want to bid on you. But you have to own it, okay?”
“I overheard the men talking, and apparently I’m playing the role of Alesso’s slave, so I can hardly own it and be all epic and movie star-like, can I?”
“You don’t have to be domineering, or loud, or overtly confident to shine, honey. It all comes from inside. Believe you’re the most beautiful woman there because you most likely will be, and it will shine from inside.”
“I’m not that beautiful, though. Not in the way you or Maya are, or Violet.”
She takes her glasses and pushes them up onto her head. “Okay, here’s the thing. I’ve met Maya once. She’s not a patch on you. She’s sexy because she’s confident, and of course she’s pretty, but she’s no Grace Kelly. Violet is stunning, but in a unique way, and not one that everyone finds beautiful. After all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. As for me, I know what I am. I’m hot and I own it, but I’m not beautiful. If I practically shaved all my hair off and colored it white blonde, I’d look a total fright. You can carry it off. There are a few people in this world, who almost everyone finds beautiful. Audrey Hepburn. Grace Kelly. You’ve got the same sort of classic good looks. Own them.”
