~Alexander's POV~
The sensation of moving while joined was agonizingly good. Only when I reached the edge did I reluctantly slide out for a fraction of a second to climb onto the mattress.
I propped my back against the headboard with a pillow, and Alis followed instantly, straddling me again.
He lowered himself back down, taking me back in with a long, wet slide that made my toes curl. Then he began to move. Slap, slap, slap. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed in the quiet room as his ass jumped on my cock. He was riding me so beautifully, his head thrown back, his throat exposed and trembling.
"Fuck me, Daddy," he whimpered, his hands digging into my shoulders.
I didn't stop; I couldn't. I reached up to grip his waist, helping him pound down on me even faster. Thud, thud, thud. The bed frame groaned under the rhythmic force of our bodies.
"Fuck, yes! Just like that!" Alis moaned, his voice rising in pitch. "Deeper, Daddy... faster! That's how I want it!"
I leaned forward, my mouth finding his flushed, hard nipple. I swirled my tongue around it, biting down gently as I slammed upward with faster, more punishing thrusts.
Alis moaned. "Huh… Daddy."
The taste of his skin and the sound of our frantic moaning filled my senses. I was losing myself in him, the world outside this room finally ceasing to exist.
"Fuck, Daddy, please... faster!" Alis demanded, his voice a loud, desperate moan.
In one smooth, powerful move, I shifted my grip, holding his hips up high so I could aim better before slamming harder than ever into his depths. Alis let out a loud, ringing moan. "Yes! Like that! Right there! Hit that spot, Alex!"
My breath was coming in ragged, shallow hitches. My vision was blurring at the edges. "Baby... I'm close. I'm so close."
"No, baby," Alis panted, his eyes blown wide and glassy. "Don't stop. Don't cum yet... stay with me."
"I can't," I rasped, my control snapping like a dry twig. "I can't hold it anymore, Alis. I'm right there."
I reached between us, my hand closing around his cock, stroking him with a frantic, blurring speed that matched the rhythm of my internal thrusting. I was working him from the outside while stretching him from the inside, the dual sensation driving us both to the point of no return.
"Faster!" Alis screamed, his nails scratching my chest.
I pushed my hand to the limit, my cock jerking inside him as the pressure reached the breaking point. "I'm cumming, babe! I can't, I'm cumming!"
"Let it go," Alis whispered, his voice a wrecked sob of pleasure. "Cum for me, Daddy."
With one final, powerful thrust that buried me to the very root, I let out a guttural roar. My hand moved one last time on his cock as I came deep inside him, the heat of my release jerking through my frame.
At the same moment, Alis buckled, his own release hitting his chest and my hand in hot, pulsing bursts.
We stayed like that for a long moment, hearts hammering against each other, chests heaving as we panted into the silence.
Our bodies were still jerking with the aftershocks, emptying ourselves until we were completely spent. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw Alis looking at me with so much love it made my chest ache.
I didn't pull out. I reached up, capturing his mouth in a deep, wet kiss that tasted of salt and surrender.
"I loved that," I murmured against his lips once we pulled apart.
Alis smiled, his face glowing with satisfaction. "I enjoyed it too. I love you so much, baby."
I reached up, cupping his face with my damp palms, his eyes soft. "I love you more," I replied, pulling him down into a tight hug.
"This… what we have right now," I murmured into his hair. "It's enough. No matter what comes next, we'll face it together. Trust me, baby."
Alis nodded against my shoulder, his voice muffled but sure. "I trust you."
We lay there for a while, tangled and messy, before the reality of our shared sweat and spent heat forced us back to the bathroom. We showered together again, this time slow and gentle, washing away the stress of the day.
When we finally stepped back out, I pulled him into my arms under the cool sheets, holding him close until sleep finally took us both.
The heavy, satisfied silence of the night was eventually broken by the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. I woke up first, feeling more rested than I had in weeks. I shifted slightly, turning to find that Alis had rolled away from me in his sleep. I moved closer, molding my body to his back and burying my face in the soft mess of his hair.
"Good morning, honey," I murmured, my voice still thick with sleep.
"Hmm..." was the only response I got, a sleepy, soft vibration that told me he wasn't ready to face the world yet.
I pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, lingering there for a second before finally pulling myself out of the warmth of the bed. I dressed quickly and stood before the mirror, brushing my hair back trying to look composed.
I checked the time, 9:18 AM. It was late, but I didn't care.
I headed downstairs, and as soon as I hit the final step, the tension in the house was palpable. My mother and Clara were already in the dining area.
I walked closer.
"Good morning, Mom," I said, keeping my voice neutral.
She didn't return the greeting. Instead, she set her teacup down with a sharp clack. "I came to your door last night, Alexander. I knocked repeatedly, and you didn't answer. Should I be concerned about your hearing?"
"I was already sleeping, Mom," I lied smoothly, heading toward the coffee.
"That's a lie," she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "I heard exactly what was—"
"Mom, please," I interrupted, rubbing my forehead. "Just stop. It's too early for this."
She swallowed the rest of her sentence, her lips thinning into a tight line. She glanced around the room. "And where is Alistair?"
"My husband is still sleeping."
"Sleeping? At this hour of the day?" she asked, her voice dripping with disapproval.
"Yes."
She scoffed, looking over at Clara before turning back to me. "I see. So, after... using you last night, he doesn't feel the need to wake up and take care of you? Look at you, Alexander. You look thin, exhausted. Just from last night to now, you look drained."
"Mom, stop. Stop exaggerating," I said, finally losing my patience. "We are both adults. He isn't just 'anybody'—he's my husband. We are allowed to do whatever we want in our own bedroom."
My mother's face flushed with anger. She turned to one of the nearby maids. "You. Go upstairs and wake him up. Tell him breakfast is being served."
As the maid started to turn toward the stairs, I stepped forward, my voice dropping into a tone that left no room for debate.
"Stop," I commanded. "None of you dare wake him up."