Heir of Deception | (for mature audience)

*Chapter 37: Christian

Cristian

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When I awoke, an unsettling emptiness enveloped me, my fingers brushing against the cool sheets beside me, confirming the stark truth—no one lay beside me. Squinting against the muted light filtering through the curtains, I felt the weight of solitude settle in like a heavy shroud. The bedside clock blinked 2:21 AM, the hour hauntingly still. I slipped into a pair of shorts, the fabric scratching against my skin, and made my way to the bathroom, only to find it empty.

As I stepped out, faint, ambiguous sounds drifted from Matthew's room, but I brushed them aside, urgency propelling me forward. I was searching for Alexandria, the woman who would soon be my wife. I wandered into the kitchen and found her silhouette perched on the island, her gaze lost in the dimly lit backyard, as if she were searching for something just beyond reach.

“Princess?” I called softly, and she turned, surprise flickering in her eyes, mingled with something deeper—an unquenchable longing that stirred a fire within me.

“What are you doing here at this hour?” I asked, closing the distance between us, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied, bringing a glass of milk to her lips. A delicate milk mustache formed as she drank, making her all the more enchanting in the soft light.

“Wedding jitters?” I inquired, positioning myself between her legs, my fingers itching to wipe away the stray milk from her lips.

“Yes,” she admitted, a shy smile breaking through her uncertainty, her vulnerability captivating me in ways I never anticipated.

“Want me to help you shake them off?” I suggested, a playful glint igniting in my eyes, the air thick with unspoken tension and desire.

“What do you have in mind?” Her curiosity piqued, her eyes sparkling with intrigue, urging me to take the lead.

“Give me that,” I said, taking the glass from her hand and setting it aside, feeling the weight of our shared moment. “And keep it down, okay, princess?”

She nodded, a slow smile blooming across her face, anticipation shimmering between us like electricity.

“Spread for me,” I commanded, my voice low and laced with expectation.

The bathrobe she wore hung loosely, teasingly hinting at the softness beneath. I positioned myself just right, my heart racing as I buried my face between her thighs, devouring her with urgency. My tongue moved in and out, coaxing soft moans from her lips, each sound only fueling my desire. I reached up, cupping her breast, giving it a gentle squeeze while my fingers deftly rubbed her clit, igniting waves of pleasure that cascaded through her.

She fell back against the marble, breath quickening, and the glass clattered to the floor—a minor casualty in the heat of the moment.

"I'm close, Christian," she moaned, tugging harder at my hair, her body arching towards me with need.

I quickened my pace, rubbing her clit faster until she came, her essence flooding my mouth, a sweet taste that made me crave more. I stood back up, licking my lips, savoring her arousal. Without hesitation, I slid myself deep inside her, a gasp escaping her lips as I filled her slick warmth.

I lost myself in the rhythm, my strokes fast and urgent, pounding into her with fervor. Her head fell against my neck, nails digging into my back as she clung to me, breathless and unyielding. I could feel her heat radiating against me, each thrust driving me closer to the edge. With her legs locked around my waist, she urged me deeper until, with a loud groan, I released inside her, a primal release that echoed in the stillness of the night.

"That was amazing," she said, a radiant grin spreading across her face, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

"Did it—" I began, but before I could finish, the kitchen light flicked on, and both our heads snapped to the entrance, my heart pounding in my chest. It was Matthew and Clinton, their eyes widening in surprise as they walked in.

"Uh, what are you doing up this late?" Matthew asked, striding closer, and I quickly adjusted Alexandria's open robe, the moment of intimacy slipping away.

"I couldn't sleep," Alexandria said quickly, her voice a mix of innocence and embarrassment.

"Uhm, I'm going to pretend that I believe that," Clinton remarked, sauntering over to the fridge, his tone teasing yet inquisitive. "And this broken glass?" he questioned, gesturing to the scattered shards on the floor.

I exchanged a panicked glance with Alexandria, who stood beside me, a mix of protective and amused. We were caught, and I could feel the heat radiating off her, her body tense against mine.

"Uh, it was an accident," Alexandria stammered. "I was just... getting a drink."

Matthew's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze flicking between us, searching for the truth hidden beneath our flustered expressions. "Right. A late-night drink," he said, his tone dripping with skepticism.

Clinton leaned against the counter, arms crossed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "So, what’s the plan? Late-night milk and a little... yoga?" he teased, a grin spreading across his face.

I felt my face flush even more as I glanced at Alexandria, who was trying to suppress a laugh. This was not how I envisioned this moment going, but there was something oddly liberating in being caught in such an intimate act.

"Actually," I interjected, stepping closer to her as if to shield her from their scrutiny. "We were just talking about the wedding tomorrow."

"Sure," Matthew replied, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Because nothing says wedding jitters like a glass of milk and a broken kitchen."

As Matthew and Clinton resumed their banter, Alexandria leaned into me, a soft giggle escaping her lips. Even in this unexpected moment, there was a comfort in knowing we were in this together, navigating the complexities of our relationship with humor and love.

"What are the two of you doing up this late?" Alexandria asked, holding her gaze with Clinton.

"I came to get a snack," Clinton said, holding up a pint of ice cream he’d retrieved from the fridge, a smirk etched on his face.

"And you both decided ice cream was a two-person job?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. "Because I heard some noises earlier when I came down looking for Alexandria." My tone dripped with playful suspicion as I turned the heat back on them.

"What are you implying?" Clinton asked, his posture shifting defensively.

"What were you implying we did?" I shot back, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"I'm done with this," Clinton rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation before storming out of the room, leaving Matthew chuckling and shaking his head.

As the door clicked shut behind him, I turned to Alexandria, our laughter mingling in the air, a shared secret between us. "Well, that was interesting," I said, wrapping my arms around her. "Ready for the wedding tomorrow?"

"With you? Always," she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. And in that moment, I knew we could face anything together.