Page 80 of Claiming His Throne
Alfie moves closer to me, spreading my legs open. His lips press on my inner thigh, just below where the hem of my skirt falls.
“Good girl,” he says. “You know what happens to good girls, Molly?”
“What?” I look down at him as he kisses his way up my thigh.
“They get rewards.” He pushes my skirt higher. His fingers hook into my panties and then he’s moving them to the side, my pussy now on full display for him.
“What kind of rewards?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Alfie’s tongue slides between my folds, slow and with the perfect amount of pressure.
I reach down and lift my skirt even higher, allowing my legs to open wider. I’m conscious of trying not to squeeze too hard. Alfie does have a healing broken nose, and his face is still sporting light bruises.
My fingers curl into his hair. “I think I like this reward,” I tell him as his tongue continues to lap at me, circling around my clit.
When he’s touching me like this, everything else vanishes. And he always seems to know exactly what and when I need him to give me that escape.
Alfie shifts his body, moving his free hand up, and then he’s pushing two fingers into me as his mouth sucks on my clit.
“Oh god!” I moan, gripping on to his hair. My hips start moving on their own, reaching for him every time he withdraws his fingers before thrusting them back in.
Alfie doesn’t stop his assault on my pussy. He increases his speed until I’m pulling at his hair, my body stiff as pleasure explodes in every core of my being.
When he finally stops licking me, I’ve fallen back against my chair, a light sweat on my forehead and in a relaxed state of mind. That doesn’t last long, though. Guilt kicks in quickly after.
“Don’t do that,” Alfie says, readjusting my panties for me. He pulls the fabric of my skirt down, covering my thighs.
“Don’t do what?”
“Feel guilty for enjoying something.”
“How?”How does he read me so well?
“I’ve spent hours memorizing your every expression, Molly. I know what you’re thinking before you even know.”
“No, you don’t,” I scoff. But I know he’s telling the truth. He does stare at me a lot. Watches for moments when he thinks he needs to ride in on his white horse and save me from my own thoughts. “You’re using orgasms to distract me from my grief.”
“I’m using whatever I can to make you feel good, Molly. I know you’re grieving, and I understand it. I know how important Angus is to you. But I can’t just sit back and do nothing. If orgasms give you a temporary reprieve from that sadness, then I will happily make you come as many times a day as you will let me.”
“Are you serious about getting married?” I ask, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Yes. Did your lawyer email you the paperwork yet?”
“He did. I signed it this morning.”
Alfie doesn’t linger over me when I’m working. He gives me privacy and space to do whatever I need to do. He also never complains about me being on my laptop late at night. I’ve never met anyone like him, never dated anyone like him, and I know that I love him. I also know I’m insane for wanting to marry a man I met just weeks ago.
It worked out for Alfie’s parents, though, and I don’t have anything to lose except a broken heart. I signed the prenup agreement, which was very clear that I maintain full control over my company and assets previously owned, as well as any assets I acquire during the marriage. Alfie will have no claim to anything I have now or in the future. The smart, business-minded girl in me liked that agreement. I didn’t work this hard to build this company up, only to have it ripped away from me in some messy divorce—god forbid.
I’m not going into this thinking it’s going to fail. I really believe he is the one. But I’m also aware that people change.
“Wait… You should know there’s a chance I could develop tumors like my mom,” I blurt out.
“I will love you in sickness and health, Molly,” Alfie says. “My love for you is not conditional.”
“I don’t want to become a burden to you.”
“Do you think your father looks at your mother as a burden?” he counters.
