My breath hitches, my hips stilling. “Xavier.”
His deft fingers do the rest of the work, teasing the tender nerves until I'm coming apart at the seams, melting into his grasp, powerful waves of pleasure pushing through my body. I feel renewed, like I can do absolutely fuckinganything. My head rolls from side to side, a stupidly pleased grin on my face as Xavier’s fingers slip from me when I rotate to face him, taking a seat on his lap, grabbing his hand.
His pupils expand as I slide two of his glossy fingers past my lips, emboldened enough to taste my essence on his skin.His hair is a wild mess, frayed from pulling, hanging over eyes that are drinking me in like a man about to be thoroughly fucked in the back of a limousine.
Xavier’s fingers slip from my red lips, only to be replaced by his tongue. He groans deeply into my mouth as my taste mingles between us. When he slides down onto the floor and grabs my hips so he can lower me onto his face, I have to grasp the handle above my head to keep myself upright. My weak knees dig into the leather on either side of his head, my cleft parallel to his mouth.
And when his tongue pushes in…
Obscene sounds erupt from my mouth, and I pray that Michael cannot hear them up front. As the car slows at stop lights, merges through tiny alleyways, and revolves around upper Manhattan, I'm fisting Xavier’s hair, urging him deeper, crying out when his fingers spread me open, his tongue spearing my entrance. He gathers my ass into his hands, probing and sucking until I'm physically struggling to handle it, fearing my legs are going to cave.
My body flinches as I begin to beg. Beg for more. Beg for release. “Please.Please.”
He hardly surfaces for breath, but when he does, gasping, thrashing my folds, I'm only able to watch him, wanting to stretch out the moment when he tells me to sit on him. Really sit. And I do it, cradling his head between my hands as I grind against the heat of his tongue, hearing the orgasm building in my cries.
Already so sensitive, it doesn’t take much to push me over the edge. Just my clit trapped between his lips, and I'm toppling to the primal sound that leaves him as I grasp onto the seat to keep myself from falling into him, shaking each time he runs his tongue delicately over the ravaged bundle of blown-apart nerves.
As I struggle to regain some semblance of composure, hishot breath caresses the delicate skin between my thighs, shifting between gentle kisses and soft bites that send tremors through my heightened senses.
Surely not… I couldn’t do it again.
When lustful eyes glance up to meet mine, I know he’s going to make a liar out of me.
All of the bedroom lights are on.
Our clothes are strewn from the entrance of the mansion up to the master suite. My dress lies by the door. Our shoes are at the foot of the steps. His cummerbund hangs from a marble pillar at the top of the stairs. The rest of his clothes are scattered through the hallway leading into the bedroom, where we collided, quite literally drugged with need.
That unrestrained lust had Xavier banging me into the unsteady wardrobe before his men had even resumed their posts outside, ravaging my breasts while he slammed me down onto his cock, taking me like a man driven to madness.
Typically, this would frighten me.
But I'm just as unhinged and desperate for him as he is for me, matching his intensity. As my teeth pierce his flesh, biting the salty skin close to his heart, he hisses in pain, yet his eyes compel me to continue.
He drops me onto the bed, grips my ankles, and drags me to the edge of the mattress, taking me standing. Leaning closer to capture my lips, Xavier lifts my leg to push himself deeper, stretching my body to accommodate him. His lips curve deviously as my body fights to comply.
When Italian falls from my lips, the languages mixing in the haze of my mind, he isn’t expecting it. “Mi stai riempiendo.”You’re filling me up.
In response, he pushes even deeper, answering me in Italian. “Il tuo corpo è stato fatto per me.”Your body was made for me.And then returning to English, “It will fit.”
And it does.
Once his thumb targets the heat between my legs, Xavier buries himself to my cleft. Gripping my hips, pinning me in that exquisite but tight position, his forearms course with thick veins that reveal the kind of strength he’s restraining. Unable to catch my breath, my eyes devour all of him, noting the way his scored biceps flex when he seizes my hips, physically drawing himself in and out of me, allowing me to bask in the sensory overload.
His chest nearly doubles in size whenever he reclaims me, and when he’s consumed by passion, his tensed abs stand out sharply, leading down to the pronounced curve of his hips.
I get him under me in the middle of the bed, my painted nails pressing into his chest, my teeth grazing the inside of his palm as my hips churn onto his hard cock, exquisitely full.
My skin gleams with sweat, never having recovered from the ride home before he was on me in the doorway.
Driven by an insatiable need for each other, compensating for years of deprivation, we push ourselves beyond exhaustion, beyond what our hearts can withstand.
Sitting up, his tongue lashes my breast, tugging my nipple to coax the pain away sweetly.
My hands rake over him, determined to leave my mark and stake my claim over his body, just as he has done with mine. We’re both spent, using the last of our energy when he pins me beneath him, settling between my legs like a homecoming.
His hands capture my wrists, dragging my arms up over my head, pinning them there as he drives his hips forward, groaning. And just when I thought I was free from the past, free from any triggers, his firm grip on my arms forces me to tilt away from his kiss, losing. Losing desire. Losing myself.
Even this close to oblivion, he stops the moment he sensesme stiffen beneath him, loosening my arms and bringing them to his face. “Too far?”
