The CEO's Contractual Wife (Olivia and Ryan) novel Chapter 128

Chapter 128

Olivia

Alexander’s eyes held mine, his gaze dropping to my lips. “I like the way you look in red,” he murmured, his voice deepening. “But I’d like it even better on my floor.”

I laughed, breaking the tension. “That was terrible. Does that line actually work for you?”

“I don’t need lines,” he said, reaching for me. “Come here.”

Before I could respond, Alexander pulled me onto his lap, my dress riding up slightly as I straddled him. His hands immediately found my waist, holding me steady.

“There,” he said, satisfaction evident in his voice. “Much better.”

I shifted slightly, acutely aware of how intimate our position was. “Is this your idea of a nightcap?”

“Better than scotch,” he murmured, his thumbs tracing small circles against my sides through the silky fabric. “You looked incredible tonight. Did you see how every man in that restaurant couldn’t take their eyes off you?”

“I wasn’t paying attention to other men,” I admitted.

“Good answer.”

Alexander’s hands slid up my bare back, making me shiver. “This dress is a masterpiece. The way it drapes your body…” He traced the edge where fabric met skin. “I could hardly focus on dinner.”

“I noticed,” I teased. “You kept staring.”

“How could I not?” His fingers found the zipper at the side of my dress, toying with it. “May I?”

I nodded, my heart rate picking up.

The zipper made a soft sound as he lowered it, his fingers warm against my skin. “You know what I thought when I saw you in this?”

“Tell me,” I whispered.

“I thought about how many ways I could take you while you were wearing it.” The dress loosened around me as he continued. “How I could hike it up around your waist and fuck you against the wall.”

His crude words sent heat spiraling through me. “Alexander…”

“Or bend you over that fancy dining table downstairs.” His hands slipped inside the now–open dress, finding my bare skin. “Would you like that, Liv? Being taken on the table where we’ll have breakfast tomorrow?”

I gasped as his fingers traced my spine. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He pulled the dress down slightly, exposing the top of my breasts. “Because the way your nipples are hardening tells me you like the idea.”

He was right. The thought of him taking me on that elegant dining table was unexpectedly arousing.

“You’re wearing a thong,” he observed, his hand sliding lower to cup my ass. “Were you planning this all along?”

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“It’s the only underwear that works with this dress,” I explained, trying to sound practical despite the growing heat between my legs.

“Practical and sexy.” Alexander leaned forward, his lips brushing against my collarbone. “I like the way you think, Mrs.

Carter.”

His teeth grazed my skin, and I shuddered. “We should go upstairs,” I suggested.

“Why?” His hand squeezed my ass firmly. “No one’s here but us.”

“Because…” I trailed off as his lips moved lower, approaching the swell of my breast.

“Because you’re worried about being caught?” He nipped at my skin. “That’s part of the fun.”

His hands moved to the front of my dress, pulling it down to expose my strapless bra. “Red lace. You really did plan this.”

“It matches the dress,” I protested weakly.

“Mmm.” Alexander unhooked my bra with practiced ease, tossing it aside. “And these match perfectly too.

He cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. I arched into his touch, unable to help myself.

“Sensitive,” he noted, repeating the motion and watching my reaction. “I love how responsive you are.”

He lowered his head, taking one nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue made me gasp and grip his shoulders.

“Alexander…”

“I love the way you say my name,” he murmured against my skin. “Say it again.”

“Alexander,” I breathed as he switched to my other breast, lavishing it with the same attention.

His hand slid between us, pushing my dress higher. “Spread your legs wider for me.”

I complied, my knees digging into the sofa on either side of his hips. His fingers found the edge of my thong, tracing the lace before pushing it aside.

“Already wet,” he said with satisfaction. “Is that for me, Liv?”

“Who else would it be for?” I challenged.

His eyes darkened. “No one. This pussy is mine now.”

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