"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮."
Lonzo Mattia doesn't like strangers.
When his underboss, Gabriel, invites his sister, Alexia, to stay at their house when her parents can n...
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A L E X I A D A L T O N
I don't know what the fuck just happened or why my body betrayed me like that. He had me pinned to the counter but I didn't even fight it, I didn't even attempt to push his heaviness away as his fingers trailed my thighs with intent, the way his palm left a print on my ass.
It's still burning now. I can feel his brand on me.
Now I'm in my room, clutching my towel to my body that is borderline hyperventilating. My skin is ready to be set on fire, if I strike a match down my arm I'm sure I'll go up in flames.
I'm still shamelessly thinking about the way he tugged my hair roughly into his embrace, spoke deeply into my ear with low threat. I shouldn't have been turned on. The thought of his danger shouldn't have turned me on. But it does and I hate myself for it.
I hate that my thighs were slick. I hate that his slap made a small moan escape my lips. I hate that I liked when his fingers dug into the flesh on my hips.
When I'm finally alone, I rest my forehead on the door and take a silent breath. Trying to regain my dignity, including the fact Gabriel walked through the front door and we were seconds away from having our heads blown off.
But despite my brother almost catching us, my mind wanders back to Lonzo each time. He's haunting me, possessing me and I have no way out. I know he'd be a good fucker, I've seen him in action, he doesn't hold back and a part of me wants to be on the receiving end.
Some girls like it rough. Sometimes I think I'm sick for liking it rough, rough.
"Fuck, Lex," I murmur to myself and take a step away from the door. "Get yourself together."
My heart's still pounding whilst there is a continuous ache between my thighs that has me quivering, I can barely stand. I make it towards the bed and perch on the edge, my towel still intact. My body tingles from the grip of his hands, the roughness of his voice. I squeeze my eyes shut because I am about to detonate.
Before I know what I'm doing I release the towel and press my back into the bed. I slide my hand down the centre of my stomach, dipping between my legs where I am soaked to the core. No shocker there.
I gasp when I brush my index finger across my slit, biting down on my lip to be quiet. They're both home and I don't want either of them hearing. Not when I know I have to do something with the level of my hormones.
Two fingers slip inside me and I arch my back, images of Lonzo pinning my throat down to the bed invade my thoughts. I don't even push them away. I'm too far gone to fight my fantasies.
I plunge my fingers in and out quicker until I'm biting down on my lip so hard that I draw blood. So close. I'm so close.
I'm imagining Lonzo's strong arms, the way he railed that woman into oblivion. If only he could dig his fingers into my skin, leaving bruises, using his teeth to graze marks across my body. I haven't been fucked for a long long time.
