DASHIELL
I had probably married a sex fiend. That was the only logical explanation.
My brain was still spinning, trying to process the last forty minutes of my life. I had just had sex. Actual, real, penetrative sex. For the first time. And I had moaned like a porn star, begged, ridden him, and came so hard I saw stars.
I couldn't believe that person had been *me*.
My cheeks burned all over again as I carefully climbed off the bed on shaky legs. Every movement reminded me I was no longer a virgin. There was a deep, unfamiliar ache between my thighs, a slick mess on my skin, and the phantom feeling of Alexander still inside me. I felt… ruined. In the best and worst way possible.
I knew the rules. Alexander had made them very clear before we even started: no cuddling afterward. No staying in bed. No emotional attachment nonsense. Sex was sex. Nothing more.
Part of me was relieved. I had never done the whole post-sex cuddling thing before, so I didn't really know what it was supposed to feel like. But from what I'd read and seen in movies, it seemed like a nice decompression period, warm bodies, quiet breathing, maybe someone stroking your hair while your nervous system came back online. It sounded… safe. Restorative, even.
Still, rules were rules.
I bent down to pick up my discarded clothes scattered across the floor, trying not to wince at the soreness. My hands were trembling slightly. I just needed to get dressed, go back to my own room, and maybe hide under my blanket for the next three days while I rebooted my brain.
Wait… this was my room.
"What are you doing?"
I froze, then slowly looked up.
Alexander was standing on the other side of the bed, completely naked, completely unbothered, and *fully hard* again. His cock curved proudly against his stomach, still glistening. The sight sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through me.
He rounded the bed with slow, deliberate steps, stalking toward me like a predator who had just decided dinner wasn't over.
I instinctively stepped backward. My calves hit the bedside table and the lamp wobbled dangerously. I grabbed it quickly to stop it from falling.
"I… I'm leaving… n-no, well *you're* leaving," I stammered, clutching my clothes to my chest like a shield. "Like you wanted. After sex. No… no staying."
Alexander's brows furrowed. For a second he just stared at me, then he snorted, a short, amused sound.
"Who told you to leave?" he asked, voice calm but edged with something darker. "We're not done."
I spluttered, eyes widening. "What? You want to go *again*?"
Alexander chuckled, the sound deep and amused, like he found my shock genuinely entertaining.
Before I could process what was happening, he reached out, wrapped his long fingers around my wrist, and started pulling me toward the en-suite bathroom.
"Come on," he said simply.
My bare feet skidded on the floor as I was gently but firmly dragged along.
"Wait… Alexander!" I yelped, voice cracking with disbelief. "We just finished! I'm sore! I don't think I can, I mean, physically, is that even possible so soon? I read that refractory periods for men your age are usually…"
He didn't slow down. The bathroom lights flicked on automatically as we crossed the threshold, bathing his perfect, muscular body in warm light.
"Alexander, slow down! At least let me put the clothes down, I'm naked! This is inefficient! And unsanitary if we're going straight into the shower without…"
He tugged me inside the huge glass shower stall and finally released my wrist, only to turn on the rainfall showerhead. Warm water cascaded down instantly.
I stood there, clothes still clutched uselessly in my arms, water already soaking my hair and dripping down my flushed face, staring at him like he had lost his mind.
He smirked, that sharp, wicked curve of his lips making my stomach flip again.
"Five times a week, remember?" he said smoothly, stepping closer until I was backed against the cool tiled wall. "Consider this round two of tonight's session."
I swallowed hard, heart hammering against my ribs as water streamed between us.
My brain short-circuited for the second time that night.
This man really *was* going to ruin me.
*****
"Men my age, you said," Alexander gritted out, voice low and dangerous.
He pulled out until only the thick head of his cock kissed my entrance, then leaned in close, his left hand wrapping around my throat. He slammed my face hard against the wet tile, cheek pressed flat like he wanted the wall to brand itself into my skin. The cold surface bit into my flushed cheek while hot water poured over us.
I was too pleasure-drunk to protest. My brain had already turned to mush around his cock.
Then.. *Thwop.*
He drove back in with brutal force. The impact slammed my entire body against the wall. A raw scream tore from my throat.
"Ahhhh…. !"
His nails dug into my hip hard enough to draw blood, the sharp sting mixing with the overwhelming stretch.
"The refractory period for men my age is what, hubby?" he growled, each word punctuated with a savage slam against my prostate. "Is thirty-two so fucking old to you that you think I can't fuck you again right after I just filled you?"
I sobbed, pleasure and pain twisting together until I couldn't tell them apart. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean, ahh! Slow down, please it's too much, oh god…"
He laughed, low, dark, completely unhinged and fucked me harder, hips snapping forward like a machine with no off switch. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed louder than the running water. Every brutal thrust knocked the breath out of me and sent sparks exploding behind my eyes.
"You're sorry?" he taunted, voice rough and mocking. "You're the one who begged me to go faster earlier. Now you're crying for me to slow down while your hole is sucking me in like it never wants me to leave. Make up your mind, little boy."
He pulled out, spun me around like I weighed nothing, and shoved my chest against the wall again. One rough hand yanked my hips back, the other fisted in my wet hair. He slammed back inside in one vicious thrust.
"Ahh fuck, Alexander!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face mixed with the shower spray. "It hurts, please I can't, oh god but it feels so good…"
"Shut up and take it," he snarled, voice cold even as he pounded into me. "You wanted this marriage. You put that ring on my finger. Now you're going to learn exactly what it means to belong to me."
He fucked me relentlessly, hips snapping with machine-like precision and savage force. Water cascaded over our joined bodies. My moans turned into broken, high-pitched cries that bounced around the shower.
Suddenly he pulled out again, lifted me clean off the floor, and wrapped my legs around his waist. My back hit the tiled wall with a wet thud. He impaled me on his cock in one brutal stroke, holding me suspended as if I were weightless.
"Ahhh. ! Too deep, please!" I begged, arms scrambling around his shoulders, nails digging into his back. Tears mixed with the shower water on my face. "Alexander, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry about the age thing, slow down, I'm sore, ahh, fuck, right there…!"
"Apologize while you're creaming on my cock," he hissed, voice completely unfeeling, eyes wild with dark hunger. "Look at you. Already addicted. Begging me to stop while your hole clenches like it never wants me to leave."
He pounded up into me, using gravity and his brutal strength to drive even deeper. My prostate was hammered mercilessly with every thrust. My cock rubbed against his abs, leaking steadily.
"I…I can't, I'm gonna, Alexander….!"
"Come," he ordered coldly. "Now."
My vision whited out. I came with a strangled scream, body convulsing around him, but he didn't stop. He kept fucking me straight through my orgasm, pace never faltering, chasing his own release with terrifying single-minded brutality.
My moans turned into weak, overstimulated whimpers. My limbs went slack.
"Too much… can't… please…" I slurred, head lolling.
He just smirked, a manic, terrifying smile and kept going.
Even when my eyes fluttered shut and consciousness slipped away, he didn't stop.
He fucked my limp body against the wall, using me like a toy until his own release finally hit.
With a low, guttural groan, he pulled out at the last second, fisted his cock, and painted my unconscious face with thick, hot ropes of cum. It streaked across my cheeks, lips, and closed eyelids, mixing with the running water.
Alexander stood there, chest heaving, staring down at my ruined, cum-covered face with a wide, unhinged smile, the most genuine expression I'd ever seen on him.
"Finally," he murmured, voice soft and possessive, almost tender in its madness. "You're back into my arms."
He brushed a thumb through the cum on my bottom lip, then added with a slow, wicked grin:
"I'm going to have so much fun with you, Dashiell Harper…"
His smile sharpened, dark and delighted.
"…Astor."