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A L E X I A D A L T O N
It's safe to say that Lonzo trains a lot harder than Gabriel.
The first session with my brother was calm and collected. Training with Lonzo felt like running barefoot through hell. We've had two sessions since and today will be my third with the mafia boss. It's clear that he likes to be dominant, call the shots, and order me around.
At first I kind of despised it but after a while I pushed away his authoritative tone and focused on the actual job at hand. I can't have him distracting me if I need to learn how to attack and defend myself. Even when he's wearing a skin tight t-shirt that flashes off his perfectly carved biceps and triceps.
He's pushed me to limits that I didn't even know I could achieve, when he tells me to kick, I kick. And when I do it, I pretend it's his face and it somehow makes me perform better.
After my second session with him, I felt sick with the tension that was flying around the room.
Being stuck alone with him for two hours is good enough as torture. But those dark brown mysterious eyes that hold me hostage, his thick, gravelly voice that shouts demands at me, the way my body wants to naturally impress him.
It's far too much for someone who told him to stay away. Now he's right in my face, neither of us taking our eyes off each other for a stupidly long amount of time. But I keep telling myself that it's for my own benefit, today I'll train with Lonzo. Tomorrow I'm back with my brother and it'll give me a chance to cool off.
God knows that I fucking need it or I'm heading straight to hell with the devil himself.
What makes things even worse is that I've just woken up from one of the most delicious and mouthwatering dreams, my body again reminding me that it's been a hot fucking minute since I got laid. My mind is now haunted by envisions of muscled men, powering over me, tasting me, taking me.
Fuck. I need to stop.
My head rotates to my phone and I press the screen. Thirty minutes until training with Lonzo starts. I groan and ignore the pressure between my thighs, I'll have to deal with it later in the shower. There is no way I'm going to chance getting myself off in front of the camera again–the one that has been re-installed.
I get dressed into black fitted leggings, a black sports bra and a thin top. I quickly grab an apple before heading downstairs to the basement where the training room is. I didn't even know this place existed until Gabriel showed me the other day.
"You're late," Lonzo's voice snaps across the room. I find my gaze floating to him, he's wearing a similar top to our other sessions. Tight, fitting. I'm sure I can see his rock hard abs underneath the fabric, that's how close it is to his skin. I suck in a breath and find his eyes again–anything away from that body which could destroy me in a matter of seconds.
My eyebrows dip, creating a scowl. "No I'm not."
"Are you calling me a liar?"
I don't miss the way his expression warps into something dark. He doesn't want to be challenged today and I'm feeling extremely on edge and irritable. This is going to be fucking fantastic.
"It's eight."
He raises his sports watch to his eyesight and narrows his eyes. "Actually it's three minutes past, which means you're late."
My eyes roll and I bunch my hair up into a ponytail. Lonzo's eyes follow the action as I strap it with a hairband. "I'm here now, aren't I?"
Lonzo's gaze narrows. "Don't be late again. It's eating into my own time and I've been generous enough to be doing this with you."
"Alright," I say under a hushed breath. "I won't be late again."
"Let's pick up from where we left off the other day," he steps closer. "Your legs are extremely weak. They are one of your best weapons when it comes to a fight and you have almost zero muscle."
I recoil from his words. "Zero?"
He ignores me and turns away, grabbing two pads to slide on his hands and he holds them up to his shoulders. "Combinations with your feet, let's go."
For an hour he runs me into the ground–almost literally.
I am covered head to toe in sweat, kicking, punching. Never in my life has my heart ever beat this fast and yet I feel like I am close to breaking point.
"Harder, harder," he yells at me.
My teeth grit down onto one another as I look up at him, heaving to catch my breath in this suffocating room. So I do, I hit the pad with my foot harder but he shakes his head. "Weak. I said fucking harder, not softer."
I almost growl at his words. Those deep brown eyes are fixed to mine. "I'm not weak."
"Then hit me fucking harder."
A low scream escapes the back of my throat as I swing my leg into the pad. I know it was harder than all my other attempts because even Lonzo's hand flinches from the impact. But he still shakes his head and scoffs at me like what I did was pathetic.
He drops the pads and I stand there, breathing like a possessed demon.
Lonzo sucks in a breath. "You're not even trying."
I shake my head, fists tightening beside me. Before I know what I'm doing I've swung my leg, he's no longer holding up the pads and the front of my foot collides with his ribs. His bones and pure muscle are a lot harder than the pads but for some reason it feels stronger, harsher than anything else I've done today.
His eyes strike with a flash of lightning and suddenly his hand is around my throat, clenching as he draws me to him. Our noses almost brush as he stares down at me with an infuriated glare, nostrils flaring at my sudden attempt at a kick.
I know my pulse is going crazy around his fingers. But neither of us back down.
"How's that for fucking harder?" I snap at him.
His curved features tense at my words and he grips my throat tighter. My legs turn to jelly at the placement of his hand, and the death glare in his eye. Why do I like the idea of his dangerous side? It gives me a thrilling desire to be put in my place.
It's all I've fucking wanted since I stepped foot in this Goddamn house.
"There's that fucking attitude I've been waiting for." He glowers.
"It never left."
Lonzo's jaw tenses and it gives me the perfect opportunity to admire his carved bone structure, along with the stubble of his beard against his tan skin. From here I can smell his fresh scented soap from his shower, clean and fresh. Completely opposite to his dirty aura that he carries around with him everywhere.
My pussy throbs and I know I'm wet. I'm fucking wet because he's got his hard around my throat and I feel like he's about to bend me over and spank my ass raw until I find my words to say sorry for hitting him without the pads on.
"What?" I taunt him when he says nothing more. "You can't take a girl having a good shot at you?"
The next thing I know, he's wrapped his vacant hand around my ponytail and tugged it backwards exposing my neck, forcing my eyesight up to him as he towers over me. A pathetic whimper escapes my lips and I pray he didn't hear because I am seconds away from exploding from the built up tension.
His grip is hard, punishing. He's trying to show me that I am not in charge and I never will be. This is his space, I am here because he's given up his time and if I waste it, I will be sorry. That is the story the expression in his eyes is giving and now my knees are shaking.
"You try so fucking hard to be smart," he groans, breath tickling the edge of my jaw. "But that mouth is going to pay."
I tilt my head towards him, lips brushing unintentionally. But when they do, my eyes flutter shut and I suddenly can't breathe. All the air has been sucked out of the room because when he grips my ponytail even tighter and claims my lips between his, I am in fucking heaven.
The kiss is hard and possessive. Everything I've dreamt of.
Even my eyes begin to water as he angles my head to capture my lips better. His tongue invades my mouth, hand still around my throat and the other tightened on my hair. I can't go anywhere, I am completely submitted to him.
Lonzo exhales a low grunt into my mouth, vibrating straight down my core and into my throbbing pussy. I whimper in response and clutch onto his muscly forearms, gripping my fingernails into his bare skin.
He walks me backwards, quickly. I hit the wall with a thud but he continues to claim my mouth, sweeping his tongue against mine and not giving me a chance to take control. I follow along because I am too busy enjoying every second of it.
Blood rushes through my body, sweat now dripping down my back as it presses into the cool wall. He lips and he sucks at my bottom lip until I am trembling in his arms.
Weeks if not months I've been fantasising about this.
I've never been a massive fan of kissing but if it involves Lonzo, then I am sold forever.
My heart pounds against my chest and he pulls away, leaving me gasping for more. When my eyes flutter open, his are so dark that it looks like I'm staring into oblivion. Dark and cold yet ready to devour.
"I can't wait to fuck that goddamn attitude right out of you."
"All talk." I murmur breathlessly to get a reaction out of him.
And it fucking works.
He rips me from the wall and forces me onto my knees on the mat. A hand presses to the back of my head and he forces my cheek down into the cool plastic material, he grumbles something from behind me but I can't hear from the blood that is roaring in my ears.
His hand grips my leggings, practically ripping them from my legs leaving me bare. There is no time to contemplate what's going on before he lands a hard hand on my ass, the sound echoing off the walls. I jolt and gasp at the same time, squeezing my eyes shut.
When a single finger slips down my soaked slit, I shudder and whimper at the sensation.
Yes. Yes. Yes. I beg in my head.
"I'm going to make a fucking mess of you, principessa."
I'm not sure if I'm alive right now because I'm choking on my own breaths.
"So wet," he rasps from behind me, running the same finger along my sensitive core. "Ragazza sporca."
(Ragazza sporca: dirty girl)
I purse my lips to stop myself from moaning but it's proving to be impossible, especially when he plunges the finger deep inside me. My back arches into the mat and he chuckles harshly at my response to him.
My body is physically answering to this monster and I want him so fucking badly.
He places another finger inside of me, pumping quickly. I groan into the floor and huff out a moan, my body beginning to shake. I've wanted a release since this morning and this is not going to end well for me.
The wetness from my core begins to drip down the insides of my thighs, any other time I would find this highly embarrassing but I'm too horny to give a single shit right now. All I can think about is Lonzo's thick fingers and the way he's holding my head down with his palm.
He speeds up, slows down, speeds up again. I'm a withering mess. Tears flowing from my eyes at the growing pleasure inside my pussy. So close already and I want to come all over those fingers.
When I'm close and I mean, a second away from coming he takes his fingers out of me and I suppress a scream. Relaxing back into the floor. I'm panting with my cheek plastered to the mat, trying my hardest to catch my breath.
Lonzo chuckles again and I hate him for it. After a few moments he enters me with his fingers again, fucking me with his two digits that I am screaming out nothing but air and pleasure.
And then he stops.
I exhale a loud frustrated cry. Biting on my lip to stop myself from moaning but it's no use.
This time he smears his thumb across my soaked core, using the pad to massage my throbbing clit. He hums which sends a shiver down my spine. "If you want it, beg me like the slut you are."
I clench tightly. Groaning, I shake my head. I'll never beg him. I will never stoop that low.
Lonzo's fingers enter me for a third time, bringing me to the edge with only a couple of strokes. I'm panting and heaving until they're ripped from me and I am ready to scream this house down.
I manoeuvre my head and rest my forehead onto the floor, sucking in a breath. He won't break me. He won't break me. He won't break me.
Instead of removing them from me when I get close to climaxing, he keeps them inside me. I mumble out a curse word and bite down onto my hand, shaking my head. His heavy breathing from behind me is enough to set me off and I close my eyes to stop myself from falling any deeper into his trap.
He tuts at me tauntingly. "Alexia," he grumbles. No don't say my fucking name. "I thought you would be smarter than this."
My eyes squeeze even tighter, clenching around his fingers for some kind of pleasure but he doesn't allow me. "Please," the word falls from my lips without my own consent and I despise my mind for giving in so easily.
"What was that?"
I fucking hate this man.
"Fuck you," I glance over my shoulder.
He removes his hand from my head and spanks my ass twice as hard. My body slumps into the mat but my hips are still high in the air, his fingers still inside me. "I'll do this all day, Alexia. Non giocare con me."
(Non giocare con me: Don't play with me)
I'm going out of my fucking mind. I can't. Not when he moves his fingers again and I am screaming out at the sensation, muffling it with my hand because I can't take it for a second longer. He's about to destroy me and there will be absolutely nothing left.
Screw my pride.
"Please."
"Please what?"
I groan with deep frustration. My head shakes, counting my breaths and his torturous strokes of his fingers. "Please make me come."
My eyes peek up at him behind me, he's smirking like a king. Yet he looks absolutely invested in giving me what I want. He better or I'm about to commit a murder. When he releases a chuckle, he grips my hair again and pins me down. "So fucking desperate."
This time he slams his fingers into me and I crumble in his grasp, he doesn't hold back he keeps on going. Fucking me with his fingers until I am screaming out in heavy pleasure. It rockets through my body like the speed of light, electrocuting every inch of me until I am quivering into the floor.
Tears spill from my eyes at the intensity. He keeps me there, thrusting his hand in and out of me even when my orgasm begins to subside.
When he stops I'm nothing but a bag of bones and the room is nothing but loud from my quick breaths. His fingers slide from me and I collapse onto the floor, closing my eyes and squeezing my legs together at the lasting seconds of pleasure.
I don't plan on moving for a few moments. I physically can't.
Lonzo steps beside my hip and pulls back my head surprisingly, staring down into my red and swollen eyes. "Open your mouth." He growls.
My lips part and he slips the fingers he fucked me with into my mouth.
"Now lick them clean."
I swirl my tongue across his thick fingers, tasting myself in the past has felt foreign and wrong but today, I've never felt so exhilarated by the experience. Especially when Lonzo stares me directly in the eye as I do it. As if he's never seen a woman taste herself before in his life.
Something flashes across his expression. He's still wearing his hard gaze but those eyes are darker than what I witnessed before, they're like something from a supernatural movie and I shudder for the final time. He curses under his breath in Italian but I don't grasp the letters.
He plucks his fingers from my mouth and my head falls once more.
"We're done for today's session." He grumbles before leaving me in a puddle on the floor.
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Author's Note
Woyyyyy🥵, what did you guys think?👉🏼👉🏼👉🏼
Their sexual tension actually makes me throb hahah
I think Alexia has broken this man, he has no idea how to handle himself around her😅
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