[BL] A Marriage Ruled by Family, Saved by Desire-Chapter 36: Hands on Me, Eyes on Screen

~Alistair’s POV~

He paused, his voice dropping a notch. "Or... do you want me to rub your stomach for you?" 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

The second he said it, my resolve crumbled. "Yes," I said, perhaps too quickly. "Rub my stomach."

He looked up at me, our eyes locking. The air was thick with the scent of his arousal and the suffocating weight of everything we weren’t saying the heat, the need, the infuriating stubbornness that kept us a few inches apart. He hesitated, his fingers twitching near the edge of the duvet.

"Well?" I challenged, my voice dropping into a low, smoky simmer. "Don’t you want to do it?"

"I... I want to, babe," Alex stammered, his voice rough and uneven.

I didn’t let him finish. I reached for the tie of my robe, my eyes never leaving his. With slow, deliberate movements, I let the silk slide off my shoulders fully, the fabric pooling around my hips as I bared my chest to him. I lay back against the pillows, my nipples peaking in the cool air, and gestured toward my stomach.

Alex shifted closer, still awkwardly clutching the duvet around his waist to hide his own aching hardness. As his warm palm finally made contact with my skin, circling my abdomen in slow, rhythmic motions, my breath hitched.

But as his hand moved, my mind started to spiral.

What if he’s lying? The thought washed over me like a sudden chill. If Sarah really did get to him, was I lying here letting a cheater touch me? But then another doubt rose just as quickly, what if he’s innocent, and I’m the one tearing us apart with my mistrust?

We had spent seven years getting used to the constant, electric heat of each other’s bodies. It had only been a few days since he’d touched me like this, yet my body reacted as if it had been starved for weeks. I wanted him, I wanted to feel him inside me until the doubt was drowned out by the pleasure, but the image of Sarah in that bed flashed in my mind again. I was starving for him, yet the food felt poisoned.

The conflict was agonizing. I wanted to scream, to cry, and to ride him all at once. But the more he rubbed, the more the mental images suffocated my desire. I couldn’t feel him; I could only feel the ghost of the secret between us.

"Stop," I murmured, my voice tight. "I’m fine now. The pain is gone."

Alex froze, his hand lingering for a second before he pulled back, looking rejected. "Alis?"

I couldn’t stay in this bed. I was throbbing, my own length aching with a need that felt like a physical weight, but I couldn’t bring myself to break the standoff. I stood up, my robe hanging open, and began to walk. Alex’s gaze followed me, probably assuming I was heading for the en-suite bathroom to finally settle my "stomach issue."

But when I bypassed the bathroom door and headed straight for the bedroom exit, he sat bolt upright.

"Babe? Where are you going?" he asked, his voice laced with sudden panic.

I gripped the door handle, my back to him so he couldn’t see the tears threatening to spill. "I can’t fall asleep, Alex. I need to be alone."

I didn’t tell him if I was coming back. I didn’t tell him I was going to the guest room. I just stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind me, leaving both of us hard, hurting, and completely alone.

The second I crossed the threshold of the guest room, I slammed the door and locked it. My pride was a cage, and the heat in my blood was a wildfire. I tore off my robe, letting it fall in a careless heap on the floor, and climbed onto the bed naked, my body trembling with a sharp, relentless need that refused to fade.

I grabbed my phone, my fingers fumbling as I opened our hidden vault. I found the video we made, the one we recorded when we believed nothing could ever come between us.

I hit play, and the room was instantly filled with the sounds of Alex’s low, guttural growls and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Seeing him on screen, his muscles tensing as he hovered over me, his eyes dark with the same hunger I was feeling, made my breath hitch.

"Alex..." I whimpered, my hand finally closing around my throbbing cock.

I started to stroke myself in time with his thrusts on the screen. As the video showed Alex lowering his head to take me into his mouth, his tongue swirling with a heat I could almost feel, I let out a jagged moan. I increased my pace, my grip tight and slick, my eyes locked on the image of him claiming me.

When the video shifted, showing Alex lifting my legs over his shoulders and slamming into me with a raw, primal force, I lost all control. My back arched off the mattress. I shoved two fingers deep inside my heat, stretching myself open as I stroked my cock with my other hand.

"Fuck, Alex... right there," I gasped, my voice breaking in the empty room. "Fuck me, baby. Please... fuck me!"

I was barking out the words, my moans turning into loud, unrestrained shouts of his name. I closed my eyes, letting the sound of his recorded voice trick my mind into believing he was actually behind me, his hands bruising my hips, his weight crushing me into the sheets. I was jerking off frantically now, my body slick with sweat, my mind a haze of lust and betrayal.

"Yes! Alex! Give it to me!"

The climax hit like a freight train. My entire body went rigid, my toes curling as the first wave of heat exploded from me. I cried out his name one last time, a loud, desperate "ALEX!" that echoed off the walls as I came, hot ropes of cum spilling across my stomach and chest.

I kept stroking through the sensitivity, my breath coming in short, panicked stabs. "Fuck... baby... fuck," I whispered, the words dissolving into a long, shaky moan until the very last drop was spent.

I collapsed against the pillows, my chest pounding as if it might burst. I lay there in the silence, covered in my own release, staring at the ceiling as my breathing slowly hitched back to normal. The video had looped back to the beginning, Alex’s smiling face frozen on the screen, a haunting reminder that while my body was satisfied, my heart was still starving.

Just then, my phone buzzed. A message from him: I’m waiting for you, babe.

I rolled my eyes, a bitter twist in my gut replacing the lingering pleasure. I didn’t reply. I tossed the phone aside, cleaned myself up, and slid under the duvet. I pulled a pillow tight against my chest in place of him and finally let exhaustion drag me under.

The next morning, sunlight spilled weakly through the blinds, nudging me awake. A persistent rapping on the wood was pulling me out of a dreamless sleep.

"Babe? Good morning... Are you still sleeping?"

It was Alex. His voice was muffled by the door, but the urgency was there. "Baby? Are you awake?"

He kept knocking, the sound echoing in my skull until I couldn’t take it anymore. I threw the covers off and marched to the door, swinging it open with a flare of pure irritation. "What?!" I snapped.

He stood there, looking startled. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink, his eyes were sunken and his hair was a mess. "Good morning, babe," he whispered, stepping back as if my anger were a physical force.

"Why are you knocking so early?" I snapped, my voice sharp. "If I were awake, I’d have come out myself. Why the constant knocking?"

"I’m sorry," Alex said quickly, his voice trembling. He glanced at his watch, movements a little awkward. "I didn’t mean to upset you, babe. It’s almost 10:00 AM, I just came to wake you so we could get ready for the trip to my mother’s."

10:00 AM? I glanced at the clock on the bedside table and felt a jolt of realization. He was right; the morning had practically vanished.

I didn’t apologize, I couldn’t give him that satisfaction. I simply brushed past him without a word and headed down the hallway to our master bedroom to get ready.

When I stepped into our room, I stopped short. Alex had already prepared everything, my clothes were neatly folded, my shoes polished, and my bag packed for the trip. Under normal circumstances, I would have been touched, I would have wrapped my arms around his neck and thanked him for taking care of me.

But today, I felt nothing but a cold, hard resolve. I didn’t feel bad for being harsh. If anything, he should be grateful I was still in this house at all.