Twenty-eight:
Aleksander Morozova
The truth of it was, he had wanted her since he saw her that night. Alina Starkov. Lady Morozova. His wife. When he got home that night, he could still feel the sting in her slap, and the heat in her eyes as he told her that she would never be good enough for the Prince of Ravka. What he wanted to say was, because she deserved better. Because she deserved a man, not a boy. Because she deserved him. But he could not say all of those things with courtiers watching, and the Fox Prince being so tragically in love with her it made him want to laugh.
When he went home that night, to his empty house, he laid awake staring at the ceiling as visions of her young face swirled in his head. He should let her marry the Prince. Have her happily ever after. But the thought filled him with rage, and before he knew it, he was demanding ridiculous things from the King. But the King was smart. The King knew to keep him placated if he wanted to keep the shiny, gold crown on his head and for Aleksander not to cut it the fuck off. He obliged, and the wedding was arranged.
And at home that night, he stuck his hand in his silk, black boxers and started to rub himself. He gripped his cock with one and with the other he stroked himself, up and down, up and down. He pictured her, in his bed, all of her lovely innocence untouched as he drove his cock into her and took something from the Lantsovs once and for all. The way they had taken his family from him. His father. His brothers. All of them had served under that hapless weakling. Now, he had one thing they didn't. Her.
He ground out her name. "Alinaaaaaaaaaa......"
He wound up with his own seed on his hands, and for once in a long time, he fell into a peaceful sleep with her name on his lips. Then, as he slept, he dreamed of her. Once she was in his house, it intensified. He pictured taking her slow, and sweet like they were actually a couple in love. He pictured taking her so hard she screamed. He pictured taking her from behind, over his desk, in his office.
Then, he pictured her his favorite way. Him, on his cock, riding it.
He kissed her all of the way up the stairs as he carried her, and when he put her gently down on the floor of the bedroom she looked at him in surprise.
Her brows furrowed together. "You don't want to ravish me on the bed?"
"Tonight, Lady Morozova, is your night. You are in control. But there is one request I would ask of you first," he said.
"What's that?" she said.
He took off his suit jacket, tossing it on the floor. Then unbuttoned his shirt. Finally, his pants, and his boxers until he was completely nude in front of her. Nude, and his cock already hard with want for her. He crawled onto the bed. "I will take you, completely and totally," he said, "but I am a man who is completely in control all of the time. I do not remember the last time that I lost it. I want to feel something, Alina. I want to be completely, and totally lost in you. So I want you to climb on top of me, and straddle me with those lovely thighs of yours. After, of course, you take off that lovely wedding dress for me."
The picture of innocence, bathed in black fabric, Alina started to undo the tiny fabric buttons of her dress. It fell off her, and she slowly pulled it down her lovely legs. Legs he would soon kiss and put his cock in between to feel them around him.
"Bra and panties next for me, my Little Wife," he said, "you won't need them on this night."
She took off her bra, a simple, cotton thing with a tiny, pink rosebud in the center. Then she took off her plain, cotton white panties. She stood before him, naked, and perfect, and his bride. His lovely, delectable, young wife.
"Crawl onto the bed, Alina," he told her.
Blushing, and biting her lip, she did. She nervously had her hands covered over her breasts.
"Now, Lady Morozova, we can't hide those," he said, "I intend to play with them a lot this evening. But first, spread your thighs for me, one leg over mine." She did as told and he saw her young cunt, ready for him, her nipples hardening from desire.
"What now?" she asked.
"Slide onto my cock," he said, "you'll be nice and ready from all of that foreplay we had in the limo. Nice, and wet, and needy."
She slid onto him. A perfect fit, tiny, and tight, as he knew that she would be. Then he took her right breast in one hand, her left breast in his other, and he began to rub them in his hands, playing with her little nipples. "Now, move your hips, my Little Wife. You're going to ride me, darling, and I'll move with you."
Alina started to move her hips rhythmically, and as she began to move, so did he, arching his hips and his cock straight into her core. He let go of her breasts, and then he watched as they bounced while she took him all in. He grunted into her as their skin slapped against each other, and he knew he was going to spill his seed in her that night. He gripped her shoulders tightly, holding her as they both rocked into each other. Alina let out a sharp cry of, "Aleksanderrr!" And her thighs clenched around his cock, and he spilled himself into her until there was nothing left.
He collapsed on her shoulder, breathing heavily, resting his head on it, and she did the same with his. Except she kissed him tenderly there, making him shiver. "Alina.... you have spent me," he said.
She chuckled. "You can't just give me cake and expect me not to eat it too, dear husband."
He looked at her, smirking. "Say that again."
"Husband," she said.
"The full thing," he told her, "all of it. I liked it."
"Dear husband," she said, blushing ever so slightly in that innocent way of hers despite the fact that he had seen her lovely flowers.
He kissed her deeply. "We've got a lifetime for it," he promised, "but I suppose, if you really wanted...I could muster enough energy for---"
She nodded her head furiously.
"Alright," he said, "round two it is. But this time, it's your turn, my Little Wife." He rolled her over so that she was on her back, and thus, round two of many that night began.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/268356761-288-k116562.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
Where The Spirit Meets The Bone
FantasyAlina Starkov is the bastard daughter of the Duke of Keramsov. Having grown up around royalty, she's befriended Prince Nikolai, who has decided that now they're eighteen she's the perfect girl to become his future queen. But when the King's advisor...