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MY EX-BOYFRIEND WANTS ME BACK Novel Cover

MY EX-BOYFRIEND WANTS ME BACK

I never thought one broken promise could shatter my world twice. His name was Marcus. He swore he'd stay in touch when he left for that "year-long business trip." Three months later, silence. No calls, no texts, nothing. On my birthday, drunk and done with heartbreak, I went home with a stranger. One reckless night. I slipped out before dawn, leaving a fake name. No more men. No more drama. Then the perfect job fell into my lap: personal assistant to Victoria Langford, a young, filthy-rich heiress. Live-in position, great pay, exactly what my sick little sister and I needed. I moved in, ready for a fresh start. Until I walked into her mansion and saw him. Marcus. In her arms. My fiancé was her boyfriend. Rage burned through me, but I swallowed it. I needed this job. He begged forgiveness, fed me lies about a big contract, how he never stopped loving me. Weak, stupid, lonely. I fell back into him. Secret touches, stolen nights, right under her nose. Then everything exploded. I came home to blood and sirens. Marcus swore he didn't know what happened. But when the police started digging, he pointed the finger at me. How do I escape this? Who's the father of the child growing inside of me?
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Chapter 2

"Mia has been asking after you, I think she misses you"

It was my aunt, she's been the one housing Mia ever since we lost our home, my eyes moistened as I stared at the phone again,

Then another message popped "Have fun girlfriend, you need to ease off, troubles don't last" It was Sara, I'm sure she must have seen us drive off.

 I forced a smile, I instantly needed to drown my feelings in alcohol, I hadn't gotten the job I applied for, something to save up for Mia's surgery. 

I looked up to his face, the smile seemed plastered there forever. I pushed every thought behind me, or at least I tried to.

The car door pulled to a stop in a massive compound that I obviously cared less about.

He didn't speak. Just turned the lock, the small creaking sound sharp in the quiet. Then his eyes found mine, dark, hungry, no more polite distance. 

My back hit the wall before I realized he'd moved. His hands cupped my face, thumbs caressing my cheeks, and his mouth crashed onto mine.

The kiss wasn't gentle. It was weeks of loneliness, months of silence from Marcus, all pouring out at once. I kissed him back just as hard, teeth grazing his lip, fingers twisting in his shirt. 

His face softened like a love-sick child. His tongue slid against mine, slow and filthy, promising everything.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, loud enough to soak my panties. He lifted me easily, hands sliding under my thighs, pressing my curves against him. 

 My legs wrapped around his waist, my dress bunched at my hips, and felt his hard cock pressing against me. My pussy clenched, opened, and clenched again. My eyes soft, locked with his.

He moved us to the couch, with my body clung to his, laid me down like I was something precious and breakable, then I felt his hands over me like he'd been starving for years, his eyes never leaving mine, his fingers dug into my soft skin.

His mouth kissed all the way down my neck, teeth scraping the spot below my ear causing my body to quiver. Air left my lungs,  my nipples hardened under my dress. 

He shoved my dress straps off my shoulders, my breasts bounced out. nipples swollen,  dark and hard, then his hot mouth closed over one nipple.

Oh God. I whimpered.

He licked slow circles, tongue flat and wet, then sucked hard enough that my hips jerked. His hand cupped the other breast, thumb rolled the peak until it ached. 

Every pull of his mouth sent a fire straight to my clit. I pushed my fingers against his dark hair, holding him there, begging without words.

He moved lower, kissing a path down my stomach, pushing my dress up around my waist, holding my hips closer to his face. 

His fingers found my lace thong and dragged them down my legs, tossing them aside. I was completely open to him now, thighs trembling, his face in between.

Alex looked up, eyes almost black. "You're soaked Lena," he murmured, voice rough. "Been thinking about tasting you since I saw you dancing."

I couldn't answer. I didn't have to, I just needed to enjoy it. Perhaps this would take Marcus out of my mind forever. He lowered his head into my pussy.

The first slow lick from entrance to clit made me cry out. He groaned against me, the vibration brandishing fire up my spine. His tongue was relentless... long, flat strokes, then quick flicks over my swollen clit, then dipping inside me like he couldn't get enough. 

I shook under him, fingers grabbing the couch cushions. "Alex- please..."

He sucked my clit gently, steadily, fingers pumping faster. Pleasure coiled tight and hot. I came hard, thighs vibrating around his head, moaning loud and broken.

He didn't stop until I was shaking, and begging for breath.

Then he stood, stripping off his shirt in one pull. His chest was broad, muscles flexing as he unbuckled his belt. I sat up, hands greedy, helping him shove jeans and boxers down. His cock sprang free; thick, heavy, tip already soaked. My mouth watered.

He grabbed a pack of condoms from his pocket, tore it open and slid one on.

I grabbed his arms, his hard nipple staring at me. Skin on skin. Sweat streaming down his abs.

He settled between my thighs, nudging my entrance. "Look at me," he whispered.

I did.

He pushed in slowly, burying his cock inside of me, a thick slide that stretched me perfectly. My breath caught at how full I felt. He stilled, forehead against mine, breathing hard, then a soft kiss on my lips.

"So tight, My Sunita," he groaned. "So fucking perfect."

Then he started moving.

Slow, deep strokes at first. Every thrust deliberate, dragging over every sensitive spot inside me.

 His hands cupped my face again, thumbs stroking my cheeks like I was something sacred. He kissed me softly even as his hips rolled harder, deeper.

"You feel so good around me," he whispered against my lips. "Love how you take every inch."

The words melted me. I wrapped my legs higher around his waist, heels digging into his back, urging him on.

His rhythm changed. Hips snapping faster, harder. The gentle sweetness turned raw and desperate. He gripped my hips, angling me so he hit even deeper. 

The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mixed with my moans and his low growls.

"Fuck, you're dripping down my cock," he rasped. "Love how wet you get for me."

I clenched around him at the filthy words, grabbed my bare breasts with one hand while pushing his hips deeper inside me with the other.

He reached between us, thumb finding my clit, rubbing tight circles. "Come for me again. Want to feel you milk me."

I shattered, harder than the first time, vision whiting out, crying his name, burying my head deeper into the sheets.

He thrust through it, pace turning wild, almost frantic. "Lena, fuck..." He buried himself deep, body shuddering as he came, groaning into my neck.

We stayed locked together, sweat-slick and panting. He kissed my navel, my cheek, my lips... soft, reverent kisses that made my chest ache in a whole new way. 

Eventually he carried me upstairs, laid me in his big bed, curled around me from behind. His hand curled possessively over my stomach, lips brushing my shoulder.

I fell asleep to the steady thump of his heart against my back.

Morning light crept through the blinds. I woke up first.

Alex slept beside me, arm still draped over my waist, face relaxed in sleep. He looked too good, dark stubble, lips swollen from kissing, hair messy from my fingers.

My throat tightened, dry and needing some water

Last night was everything. Mind-blowing. Sweet. Dirty. Perfect. But morning brought the truth slamming back.

Marcus's silence still echoed in my head. The promises that turned into nothing. The way I'd waited for texts that never came. I wanted closure more than anything.

I couldn't do this again. Couldn't wake up to another man and risk him vanishing. I needed to pull my life back on track. I looked at his face, so innocent and cute, something about him reminds me of Marcus, I couldn't place it.

I slid out from under his arm, careful not to wake him. He murmured something, shifted, but stayed asleep.

I gathered my clothes from downstairs; dress heaped somewhere, panties somewhere lost. Slipped everything on quietly. Found my purse. My heels.

One last look at the stairs. He hadn't moved.

I opened the front door, stepped into the crisp morning air, and pulled it shut behind me with a soft click. 

The taxi was already waiting,  I'd already buried the night deep.

Just one reckless mistake.

No names. No numbers. No tomorrow.

I got in the car and didn't look back. Time to face life and done crying over men and their inactions.

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