"Fuck, Lena," he breathes, and the reverence in his voice makes me feel beautiful, desirable, perfect exactly as I am.
He moves into the room, tossing a condom onto the nightstand. His hands move to his tie, loosening it before pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor. His fingers work on the buttons of his shirt, revealing more skin with each one that he opens.
I watch, mesmerized, as he shrugs off the shirt, exposing the broad expanse of his chest, the definition of muscle earned through years of training. My hand drops to my nipple, the skin taut and sensitive as I trail a finger while observing Alder undress.
His hands move to his belt next, and I hold my breath as he unbuckles it, the soft clink of metal loud in the quiet room. He unzips his jeans and lets them fall to the floor, revealing black boxer briefs that do little to hide his arousal. My breath leaves me in a low moan as Alder hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, eyes never leaving mine as he pushes them down, finally standing before me completely naked.
He's magnificent—all lean muscle and golden skin, his erection jutting proudly from a nest of darker blond curls. He wraps a hand around the thick length, giving a slow stroke that makes my mouth water.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he says, echoing my thoughts back to me. "I can't believe you're looking at me like that."
"Like what?" I ask, my voice breathy and wanting.
"Like you want to devour me." He moves toward the bed, his eyes wild and hungry. "That's how I'm looking at you, too."
He joins me on the mattress, his weight making it dip as he crawls over me, all controlled power and lethal grace. His skin is hot against mine, his body covering me like a living blanket as he settles between my thighs.
"I need to taste you," he murmurs, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below my ear. "All of you."
"Please," is all I can say as all coherent thought flees while his hands and lips begin their exploration.
He takes his time, mapping my body with reverent attention. His mouth leaves a trail of fire down my neck, across my collarbone, dipping to capture a nipple in the wet heat of his mouth.
I gasp, arching into the sensation as his tongue flicks across the sensitive peak. His hand finds my other breast, kneading gently before rolling the nipple between his fingers.
"You're so responsive," he says against my skin, sounding pleased. “Just for me.”
His praise washes over me, heightening every sensation as he continues his journey downward, tongue tracing patterns across my ribs and my stomach, dipping into my navel.
When he reaches the apex of my thighs, he pauses, looking up at me with a question in his eyes.
"Yes," I breathe, answering before he can ask. "Please, Alder."
He smiles, a predatory flash of teeth, before settling between my legs, hooking my knees over his broad shoulders. The first touch of his tongue against my center has me crying out, fingers clutching at the sheets.
He groans, the vibration adding to the sensation as he explores me with lips and tongue. He seems to delight indiscovering what makes me gasp, what makes me moan, what makes my hips lift, seeking more.
I'm lost when he slides a finger inside me, curling it to find the spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. My release builds with shocking speed, coiling tighter and tighter until I shatter, his name on my lips as waves of pleasure crash through me.
He works me through it, gentling his touch as I come down before pressing a kiss to my inner thigh and crawling back up my body.
"I love watching you come," he says, his voice rough with desire. "So fucking beautiful."
He reaches for the condom on the nightstand, tearing the packet open with his teeth. I watch, still dazed with pleasure, as he rolls it on.
Then he's positioning himself between my thighs again, the blunt head of him nudging at my entrance.
"Okay?" he asks, one last check.
I nod beyond words and reach up to pull him down to me. He kisses me deeply as he pushes forward, my taste on his lips, entering me in one slow, controlled thrust that has us both moaning into each other's mouths.
He stills once fully seated, his forehead pressed against mine, our breath mingling. "You feel incredible," he whispers. "So good, Lena."
"Move," I urge, my hands finding his hips. "Please."
He obeys, withdrawing almost completely before sinking back in, setting a rhythm that has me climbing toward another peak. His strokes are deep and measured, his eyes never leaving mine, creating an almost too much intimacy to bear.
I wrap my legs around his waist, changing the angle, drawing him deeper still. He groans, his pace faltering slightly before he catches himself.
