by Nicole René
“What do you think you’re doing, little girl?” He asked huskily. It was the first time he’s spoken to her since that night. His hand snaked through her soft locks before fisting them at her nape.
“Shh.”
And before he could retort, she put the head of his engorged flesh into her mouth and sucked.
Hard.
He hissed, his thighs bunching from the pleasure. She went at him firm, sucking him just like he taught her how. Taking him in long strokes and deep into her mouth until she gagged his meaty flesh.
Gods, he loved that sound.
His eyes closed, his head tipping back. He was lost in what she was doing and how she was making him feel. Her right hand gripped his shaft, sliding up and down with a firm grip while she licked the tip, her tongue swirling and lapping up the tears his dick wept in appreciation.
His grip tightened in her hair. His hips jerked, wanting to pump into her mouth with the same intensity that he would with her tight warmth, but he held himself back. Before, he would have no problem taking control. He wouldn’t hesitate to hold her head still while he choked her with his cock, slamming it deep into her mouth. He’d make her take him until he came on down her throat, forcing her to swallow every last drop. Then, he would pick her up and bend her over his desk and pound into her until she was screaming.
But that was the old Xavier, one he had already let slip. He promised that he would be better. That he wouldn’t hurt her...or their baby. He already failed thrice—he wasn’t going to do it a fourth.
An emotion clogged his throat, so suddenly, it startled him. It was fighting with his pleasure, causing his body to fight in this weird battle on which one would prevail.
“Leawyn,” he choked. He wanted her to stop. He wanted to pull her closer.
The decision was made for him, because at that moment, her left hand cupped his sac the same moment she tugged his hips to her, taking his entire length into her mouth until her chin brushed against him. It was the move he had done to her multiple times, one he taught her to enjoy.
With a mix between a growl and a quiet cry, his release jetted into her waiting and willing throat. He groaned, holding her head to him a moment before he pulled back. She looked up at him with hungry eyes when his partially flaccid cock slipped free from her mouth. She must have seen something in his expression, because hers became almost desperate.
“Xavier,” she whispered, her tone raw. “Please.”
He wasn’t going to do it.
She wanted to cry. It’s been days since he’s last touched her, ever since the night she refused to kill the prisoner.
It was the longest he’s ever gone.
Even when she was broken and bruised—and he knew she wanted nothing to do with him—he had taken her. He played her body like it was an instrument until she craved his touch. His rawness.
His demands.
He made sure he was the master of her body, trained only to serve and want him.
She needed him...so why didn’t he want her?
“Leawyn.” He tried to pull away from her, but she wouldn’t let him.
“Did I not please you?”
His eyes flared with heat, easing some of her concern. “You did,” he said, stroking her cheek until his thumb could press against her bottom lip that was still glistening from her act.
“Very much so.”
“Then why won’t you take me?”
Conflict reflected in his gaze before he masked it. His hand dropped from her face.
“Leawyn…” he sighed.
She became angry when he tried to pull away from her again. She stood, using the hand he gave to help her up to slide it down her body and between her thighs. He sucked in a sharp breath.
“You feel that?” she demanded, keeping her grip tight. His fingers, as if they couldn’t help themselves, twitched against her wetness. “Answer me.”
His nostrils flared at her tone, but he didn’t shy away from her gaze. “Yes.”
She forced his hand to stroke her from palm to tip. Pleasure flared within her. She was so painstakingly hot for him that even the slightest touch of his shot fire within her womb.
“You did this to me,” she growled, practically humping his hand now. His breathing grew heavy, his eyes shooting from watching her gyrate and back up to her eyes. Like he couldn’t decide where to look.
“You haven’t touched me, and I’m dying, Xavier. I want you, I want your cock inside me, owning me. Do you not want the same?”
“You know I do,” he growled, anger distorting his features. “Don’t speak such foolish things, Leawyn. It’s beneath you.”
“Then why won’t you touch me!” She snarled. He looked away, but she still caught the shame he tried to hide. It was like a slap in the face.
“Fine,” she said, trying to hide the fact that she was dangerously close to tears. She brought his hand from out of her skirts, flinging it away. “If you don’t want me, I’ll find someone who will.”
She turned, barely managed to make two steps before she was hauled back against him roughly. Her back collided with his chest, and she choked when his hand went around her throat, the other banded across her chest. She felt the heat of his breath against the shell of her ear before he spoke.
“You will do no such thing.”
“Why?” She challenged. “You clearly don’t want me anymore. Why shouldn’t I enjoy the touch of another?”
“I’ll kill any man who touches you,” he snarled, pure wrath in his tone. “You’re mine, Leawyn. Always and forever.”
A frisson ran over her, and she couldn’t help the crack in her voice. “Then why don’t you want me anymore?”
She felt him stiffen, and then he was turning her around to face him. She stubbornly met his eyes, refusing to be ashamed of her tears. He searched her face, lingering on her tears. The storm in his expression eased. His enormous hands cupped her face.
“Why would you say such a ridiculous thing?”
“Is it?” she countered, sniffing. “You haven’t touched me. You avoid me. Was it because I was weak? Did I disgust you so much?
“Leawyn,” he sighed, bending so that their foreheads touched. He looked tortured. “You are still, and ever will be, the most beautiful flower.” He pulled back to look at her, his eyes suspiciously red-rimmed. It instantly made her tears refill.
“I failed you,” he said, voice raw. “I promised myself that I would be better. Treat you like you deserved, and then what I did…” he swallowed audibly. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, but it’s all I’m capable of doing. And the worst is that, sometimes, I do want to hurt you. I don’t know how to be gentle.”
“Xavier,” she guides his face back to hers when he looked away, like he was unable to face his weakness. She moved on her tiptoes, so that their mouths was more level. “I fell in love with you...just the way you are. Yes, change was required, but that was so that we could grow. I don’t want you to change who you are.”
“But, Leawyn––”
She yanked him down while she surged up, slamming their lips together in a hungry kiss. He resisted, then groaned, hauling her closer to him. Her breasts cushioned his chest, and she whimpered when he gripped her hair, taking control of the kiss. It was sloppy, and wet, their tongues battling. They were both gasping when she broke apart from him.
“I don’t want gentle,” she whispered huskily, gripping his neck to keep him close. Their noses were touching, their gaze locked. She reveled in the battle in his gaze.
The fire.
The want, and the need.
“Sometimes, I want it rough. Don’t change,” she panted, trying to bring him closer. Her hips gyrated, the pulsing need making the friction electric. “I want you. Right now, right here. Own me.”
With each word, his gaze grew heavier, headier, with his lust, until by the end––he snapped.
A savage growl escaped his lips when he lifted her off her feet. Her legs wrapped around his waist. Tak
ing one step, Xavier swiped the top of his desk––uncaring that everything crashed to the floor–– and laid her down.
Gaze going somnolent, she watched him push her dress until it bunched around her thighs, standing between them. He stole a hard kiss from her lips before stretching over her, his lips at her ear.
“You’re mine,” he growled, and then he was inside her in one hard surge.
She groaned at the familiar stretch. No matter how many times he’s taken her, it amazed her at how it felt— a pinch of pain, and erotic pleasure. How his cock straddled the line of too big, and just enough; it was divine. It drove her insane with lust and need and made her hopeless but to hold onto him, nails raking down his back as he set a punishing pace.
Their flesh slapped together, reverberating around them. The table rocked, the wood groaning but she was so overcome with desire that was rapidly lighting her insides on fire to worry about it breaking.
She knew Xavier would catch her if it did. He’ll always catch her.
“I love how tight you are,” he groaned, a fine sheen of sweat making his chest muscles glisten. She wanted to lick it all up. “I keep trying to stretch you with my cock, but your body is too greedy. Can you feel how it squeezes around me, milking it with your juices like it never wants to let me go?”
As if to punctuate his point, he drove hard into her, then pulled out slow, his gaze on their joining body parts.
“Look at it,” he whispered, grabbing hold of her hair and angling her head down. Forcing her to watch.
And Gods and Goddess, it was so erotic.
She watched his meaty length plunge into her in sure strokes, coming away wet. She trembled, heat rippling through her and curling her toes.
“I want you to watch,” he rasped, picking up speed. “I want you to watch as your come floods out of you and soaks my cock.”
“Xavier,” she whimpered. His words, the feel of him inside of her, watching him own her...it was too much. She came, calling out his name as she spiraled out of control and tossed into absolute bliss.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes.” He ordered, stilling inside of her. “Open them.”
She listened. Lids heavy, she looked down. Xavier pulled out of her, and she could clearly see her essence blanketing him. She shivered.
“Your gaze leaves again, and your ass gets spanked.”
It was so tempting to disobey him, but she did as she was told and continued to watch him plow into her body. No longer caring about dragging it out, Xavier plowed into her.
Hard.
Fast.
Deep.
Driving her to the point of pain, but it was the sweetest of pain.
Her second orgasm came quick, leaving her gasping and shaking in his arms. His heavy sack slapped against her so continuously it sounded like one beat. His grip on her hair grew even more tight, making tears sting her eyes, but she couldn’t help how her body started to convulse around him in orgasm while he chased his own. He thrust into her a few more times until with a grunt, he pulled out of her, and she watched his come jet over her glistening folds and part of her stomach. His grip left her hair with a heavy exhale and he stepped back. His gaze trailed down her body, resting on where his fluid was still on her.
“Beautiful,” he murmured.
He gathered his come covering her pink lips and brought them to her mouth. Her lips parted willingly, and he pressed them inside, her tongue automatically swirling around the digits and sucked. He watched her, his arousal at the dirtiness apparent in both his eyes and his body. He gathered his come on her skin two more times, until her mound was clean, but her stomach wasn’t. Once satisfied, he pulled away, growling when she nipped the calloused pads. He stepped back, surveying her body.
“Look at how beautiful you are,” he whispered, sounding like gravel. “Spread out on my table, flushed and soaking wet. Spread your legs. Wider.”
She compiled, her chest heaving, until she was completely bare to his gaze. She felt the wetness pool out of her. His nostrils flared at the sight, watching its journey. He didn’t look at her when he commanded his next order.
“Touch yourself.”
She balanced her weight on one elbow, trailing a shaking hand down her navel until her pointer and middle finger touched her clitoris. Her head dipped back as she started a steady strum, rolling the slick bud around in circles.
Xavier didn’t move.
He didn’t touch her, but his stare felt physical. He was completely focused on her movements, commanding her every so often until her thighs started to shake, her movements became frantic.
She was going to come.
“Don’t you dare,” Xavier said, now in front of her. “Beg me.”
“Please,” she gasped, full on trembling now. “Please, may I come?”
His smile was evil. “No.”
He slapped her hand away, and she screeched. In one fluid motion, he went to his knees, grabbed her, tugged until her bottom was dangling off the table, and bent his head. He sucked her throbbing nub into his mouth, and bit down.
Every single nerve in her body combusted.
The bliss traveled through her blood, heating it, making it boil and bubble. She swore the world went silent. Her ears rung, her body stiffened, and she screamed without making a sound. When she came down, Xavier was still between her legs, lapping up her juices like it was his favorite meal.
Her hands—trembling uncontrollably—buried into his long hair, gripped it tight. She took control then, and he let her. She rolled her hips, making love to his face in fast, uncoordinated jerks until she was once again lost in the ocean of euphoria.
She sagged against the table, too weak to hold herself up anymore. He gave her mound one, sweet kiss, then rose, bending over her and giving her lips the same so that she could taste herself.
They didn’t speak for a while, both trying to catch their breaths. Something changed with them, something vital sliding in place. Surprisingly, Xavier was the one to break their silence.
“You’re the only one I will ever love, Leawyn. I don’t know how, or why, but you chose me, even when I forced you into a life you never wanted. I’m a monster, who tried to be in sheep’s clothing because I thought that’s what you wanted. I was trying to make up for my past, but I think I always knew it wouldn’t be possible. I was…” he struggled, and her heart broke a little bit.
He was trying to be someone he wasn’t. Someone he thought she wanted. Every single fiber of Xavier’s being was dominant. A cold warrior that didn’t know any other weakness except death.
It was all he knew, until her.
She hugged him, and he stiffened—like he always did when confronted with affection—then relaxed. She couldn’t speak right away, too emotional. She partly blamed the baby with how extreme he/she was making her.
“I think we need to forget the past. We need to bury it. Kill it, if we must. Our beginning will not define our future from here on out.” She pulled back to look at him, finding him already staring at her. “From now on, no more secrets. No more lies. We bare our souls, Xavier. No matter how broken they are.”
He closed his eyes, his forehead meeting hers. “I can’t promise you that I will be any better than how I was. You drive me mad, Leawyn. My need is obsessive, never sated. I want to break you, to clip your wings and watch you try to fly. I’m messed up. Something in me died long ago, and the only bit of humanity I have left was revived by you. But it’s a corpse. A hollow shell of what I could have been under different circumstances.”
She smiled, stroking his cheek. His hair. His scars.
“I’ll be everything you’re not. You might have clipped my wings, but they grow back. Every time. You’ll never be able to take that from me. I’ll be your humanity, Xavier.” She brought his hand to rest on her stomach, and the baby bump that grew each day. “As will our children. You’ll be no one’s monster, but my own.”
He said nothing in response, but she knew that he accepted what she w
as telling him. He wasn’t going to try and be someone he wasn’t anymore. Because it was a painful truth that Xavier could never be the husband she had dreamed of as a girl. But he can, however, be a warrior. Conquering his most trying war for the rest of his life.
Their love.
Many years later.
There was nothing more that Xillik hated than being interrupted—even worse when he happened to be balls deep in a woman who was screaming his name at the time. But that’s exactly what happened.
By his annoying twin brothers, no less.
“Rhoxon, Ryder, get out!” he hollered at them. Not that he was bothered by modesty—but it wasn’t him he was worried about.
Ryder—the less annoying one—blinked dumbly at him while Rhoxon sucked in a breath. Both of them stared at the girl underneath him, who looked like she desperately wanted to disappear. She buried her face into his chest, trying uselessly to hide.
“Shit. Isn’t that…?” Rhoxon breathed.
“Yup,” Ryder nodded, still staring.
“Oh man. He’s gonna be so mad.”
“Really mad,” Ryder quipped.
“Xi, brother, what were you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that I’m going to kill you both if you don’t get out!”
Rhoxon’s brows lifted sky-high. “I think you’re the one who should be worried about being killed, bro.”
Ryder snickered.
He growled, beyond frustrated. He didn’t know why the Gods felt like they had to curse him with twin brothers. They were incorrigible.
“What do you want? As you can see, I’m busy.”
“Oh, we can see alright,” Rhoxon and Ryder said simultaneously with identical grins.
“Please,” a soft voice said, her tone drowning in mortification and shame.
They turned their attention to her, who still had her face pressed against his skin. The twin’s expression lost their teasing, and they looked to him.
“We’ll leave, give you a minute,” Rhoxon said.
“A short one,” Ryder added.
“Because of her. But—”