My Dad's Bestfriend (Evelyn and Jacob) novel Chapter 259

Sienna

His words buzzed through the room, his eyes locked on mine as if daring me to object. If only he knew how fast my heart was hammering, he would have never imagined I could resist. I slid my hands around his neck, breathing heavy, melding with his.

"Who's stopping you, Grayson?" I whispered.

For the first time, I didn't call him Grayson out of hatred, and he noticed. A smirk curved at the corner of his lips. He sat up, hands moving to his belt buckle, unbuckling it slowly, looking down at me like I was the main attraction in the most intoxicating show. Better than any strip show.

I lay beneath him, tracing my hand from his chest down to his V, relishing the warmth and texture of his skin. He was perfect. A creature of pure sin and allure.

It was strange—how men like him were so irresistible, carved to perfection. And ironic—how women like me, who held our heads high, fell for these devils beneath human skin.

As his pants and briefs slid off, I drew in a breath. I had always known Grayson was...large. He had been the talk of college—not just for his wealth, but for other things. I'd heard countless women rave about him in the magazines, about how no man compared. I'd imagined it, but Alexander—Alex—surpassed everything I had ever pictured. He was awfully, impossibly huge.

"Well..." I started, but he cut me off, tearing open a condom packet and sliding it on with a grin.

"Don't worry. It'll fit."

He leaned over me, parting my thighs, his hand resting on one side of my head as he brushed the tip against my entrance. A soft moan slipped past my lips at the contact. The veins on him stood out, giving away his restraint. He looked so dangerous hot over me, rubbing against me like that and...I was shameless to admit it so easily to myself.

Then he pushed in—inch by inch, slow, deliberate. I gripped him as he hovered over me, hands bracketing my head, our eyes locked. When he sank fully inside, reaching the hilt, I tried to steady my breathing—but the fullness, the tightness, the pounding of my heart, refused to obey.

He was inside me. There was no turning back.

"Relax, Sienna," he whispered, brushing his nose against mine. "I may be a monster, but I would never hurt you." The vein beside his forehead looked so pronounced that even the beautiful hair shading it couldn't hide it.

I let out a trembling sigh, slipping my hands around him. "Fuck me, Alex."

He growled, low and hungry. "Oh, I will—I fucking will."

The next second, he pulled out and slammed back in. I gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapping around his hips. And then he started fucking me and god....He didn't just fuck me—he claimed me. Every inch, every curve, every trembling nerve.

His relentless rhythm filled the room—the slap of our skin, my moans, his deep growls. Every thrust made me feel him in ways that went beyond the physical—deep into my core, into my very soul.

It wasn't just Grayson inside me. It was him establishing ownership, claiming me with every thrust, every kiss, every possessive bite.

Every time our lips met, it was nothing but pure, unrelenting passion—a passion I had never felt before. Something I'd thought I'd never feel in this lifetime.

"Ready to come for the second time, Flower?"

"Alex..." I tried to protest, to beg him not to push me further, but before I could finish, his fingers found my clit. He rubbed me with a fierce, unrelenting rhythm as he thrust from behind, matching the speed of his fingers. Locked in his arms, I screamed, shattering into a second, mindless release.

My body jerked, knees trembling as I lost my balance, but he held me tight, pressing me flush against him as I melted into his arms. My breathing was ragged, my body drenched in sweat, heart hammering so loudly I was certain he could feel it.

"A few more times to go," he whispered, hot breath brushing my skin, his fingers grazing my cheek as if I were something fragile and precious, finally within his grasp. "Catch your breath, Flower—I'm going to fuck you harder now."

I stared into his eyes, equal parts horrified and captivated.

I didn't know if I could come again—or if I could survive it. But as I looked at him, sweaty and marked with the hickeys I hadn't realized I left on him, eyes blazing with a dark, unashamed desire, I felt something stir in my chest.

It was as if I had always been an empty canvas, and finally, the colors had touched me.

Black, red, white—whatever the shade, it didn't matter. It was color nonetheless. And Alexander... he was the color on my canvas.