No, and good things never lasted, did they?
His hands were warm, his touch making her shiver. “What about if you don’t want me around anymore? Where will I go?”
“Hey,” he murmured soothingly, his thumbs moving to trace her lower lip. “I will never not want you around, understand me? So that’s not even a question.”
He wanted her. He really wanted her.
She was afraid to let herself believe it and yet . . . God, she wanted to go to Wyoming with him. She wanted to see horses and mountains and blue skies, all the things that a couple of weeks ago she’d never even conceived of.
But most of all, she wanted him. Which was terrifying, because what if she lost him?
You will survive.
Of course she would. She’d survived on the streets of New York for years, and if it all went to shit with him, she’d survive that too. She knew how to do that if nothing else.
Flattening her hands on his shoulders, she slid them down his back, feeling the flex and release of honed muscles beneath her palms. “Okay,” she murmured. “I’ll come with you.”
His smile became warm, intense. His stroking thumbs paused. Then he bent and kissed her, at first soft and gentle, then, coaxing her lips open with his tongue, deeper, hotter.
She sighed, giving herself up to the heat of him, to the rich, dark alcoholic taste of his mouth, digging her nails into the hard muscle of his back as the kiss became a little more desperate, a little more fierce. His hips flexed as he rocked against her, the long, hard length of his cock nudging over her clit, making her shiver.
If she wasn’t careful, he was going to take charge again, and though that had been fine the past couple of days, she was more confident now. She wanted to run her fingers all over his tanned skin, wanted to kiss him, taste him. Stroke his cock, feel how hard he was. Watch his face when she did, see the expression on it.
Mia shifted her hands and pushed at his chest, making him lift his mouth from hers.
His eyes had darkened into midnight. “What is it?” he asked, his voice a rough growl.
“I want to touch you.”
“You’re already doing that, sweet thing.”
“Not like this. I want . . . more.” She spread her fingers out on his chest, the feel of his hot skin and the light prickle of hair against her palms amazing. “I want to touch you the way you touch me.”
He grinned. “Who am I to argue with a lady?” His arms tightened around her and he rolled over, carrying her with him so she that found herself lying on top of him instead of underneath. “Whenever you’re ready. All of this”—he let go of her and swept a hand down the length of his body—“is yours.”
Keeping her palms on his chest, Mia slowly pushed herself up so she was sitting on him, straddling his lean waist. He was grinning, his mouth curving indulgently, and she felt a very real urge to wipe that grin off his face.
She wanted to affect him the way he’d affected her. Make him breathless and shaky and unsure. Make him hold onto her the way she’d had to hold onto him.
Mia glanced down at where her hands were splayed on his chest, drinking in the sight of him, all lean power and hard strength, the shapes of his muscles clearly defined beneath his skin. Experimentally, she trailed her fingers over his pecs, enjoying the feel of him, brushing over a nipple with her fingertip.
Beneath her exploring hand, she felt his muscles tense. So she did it again. And again. Then she glanced at his face, watching as she touched him. He was still grinning, but it had a slightly fixed look to it now and the glitter in his eyes was more pronounced.
Was that her? Was she affecting him?
She moved her hands, placing them on either side of his head, then she bent and kissed his throat the way he kissed hers. Again, the muscles in his torso rippled in response. She licked him cautiously, tasting the salty heat of him. Delicious.
“Mia.” His voice sounded rougher. This must be working.
She moved lower, trailing her mouth over his skin. Kissing him, licking one flat male nipple, then the other. Nipping lightly. Teasing.
His hands settled on her hips all of a sudden, heavy and sure, squeezing her. “Don’t get too carried away, sweet thing. I’m only human.”
He sounded breathless and when she glanced up at him again, his grin was definitely very fixed. Color burned in his cheeks, a wild light in his eyes.
She was doing this to him. She was making him feel this.
A weird rush went through her, adrenaline pumping in her veins.
On the streets, she’d felt powerless and vulnerable. Unseen by most of the people passing by her, noticed only by those who wanted to take advantage of her. But here she wasn’t unnoticed, and here she wasn’t powerless. No, there was power in this. Power in touching him, in putting that look on his face.
She affected him. This was her, all her.
Mia bent again, licking her way down the corrugated muscles of his abs, feeling them flex too as she tasted him. Salt was heavy on her tongue as well as a subtle spice that went straight to her head. She couldn’t seem to stop herself, moving lower and lower.
“Mia,” he murmured thickly. “Where are you going?”
But her hands were already there, stroking the rigid length of his cock, examining it. She hadn’t touched him there before and she’d never imagined a man’s dick would actually feel like this, so hot and with such smooth, soft skin. She stared at it, closing her fist around him, watching in amazement as he hardened even further.
Then, because she simply couldn’t help herself, she leaned forward and licked the head of his cock, suddenly desperate to taste him there too.
Salty. He tasted salty and hot and . . . God, he was delicious. She’d never realized this could be good, that she’d actually want to taste a man like this. But she did. So she opened her mouth and swallowed as much of him as she could.
“Christ, Mia.” Xavier’s hands were suddenly in her hair, holding on so tight it almost hurt. “I don’t know—”
She gave a light, experimental suck and he broke off, cursing. She liked that. Liked hearing the roughness in his voice, liked feeling the sharp prickle of her scalp as he tugged on her hair.
So she did it again, wrapping her fingers firmly around him as she sucked on him and then licked around the smooth skin of the head. His breath caught and his hips moved under her, thrusting upward.
Needing to see him all of a sudden, Mia looked up, watching his face. The grin was still there, but it held nothing of amusement now, only a feral hunger that had her own breath catching. His eyes were black, the glitter in them fierce, savage. His body beneath hers was tense, his muscles standing out beneath his skin.
God, he looked . . . so incredibly hot.
This was all her doing. She was making him like this. Desperate and needy and wanting.
“Mia,” he said hoarsely.
But she ignored him. Instead she gripped him tight and swallowed him down once more, as much as she could take.
Only for his own grip in her hair to tighten and pull her away.
* * *
He could barely hear anything over the thundering of his own heart and he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. Because what kind of idiot pulled away a woman when she was in the middle of giving him the best head he’d ever had in his life?
A stupid fucking idiot, obviously.
So what the hell are you doing then?
Actually, he couldn’t work it out. He only knew that the light little licks and experimental little sucks, the tentative, shy touches and soft teasing kisses were driving him absolutely crazy.
Especially the way she looked at him as she did it. Her dark eyes were so bright and yet so serious, watching him as she touched him, studying his reactions and adjusting what she did to suit him. He’d never had a lover look at him like that. As if his reactions were important. As if his pleasure was important.
Normally it didn’t bother him who was in charge. As long as everybody got o
ff, he was happy. And if she wanted to be in charge tonight, then why the hell not? He was still riding that Wyoming high—made all the sweeter by her agreeing to come with him—so her having a bit of fun now was all good.
Except it turned out he was bothered, and he couldn’t figure out why.
Her eyes had gotten wide, her beautiful mouth all pouty and soft, her hair twined in his fingers like silk, and it was ridiculous. She was about to give him a phenomenal blow job, and here he was, pulling her away? Had he gone nuts?
No, she’s only treating you like you’re important, like you’re worth something . . . and you’re not. You know you’re not.
“What’s wrong?” she asked huskily. “Did I hurt you?”
Such a simple question, and yet for some reason it went through him like an arrow, punching directly through his ribcage and skewering him right through the heart.
She was worried about hurting him?
“No.” His voice had gone rough and gravelly. “I’ve just changed my mind.”
“But I—”
Xavier reached down and hauled her up his body before she could finish the sentence, then he rolled over once more, pinning her beneath him.
Yeah, this was better. This was how it should be, where he was the one giving her pleasure, not the other way around. “Don’t argue with me, sweet thing,” he murmured, kissing her. “It’s your turn now.”
God, she was so hot. And her scent was driving him crazy.
He broke the kiss, ignoring the protesting sound she made, trailing his mouth down her throat and over her chest to her breasts. He licked a nipple, teasing it with the tip of his tongue, circling it until she shivered under him, then sucking it into his mouth. Mia gasped, her back arching. Her skin was so smooth and tasted delicious, sweet, like vanilla. He sucked hard on her, teasing her other nipple with his fingers, then pinching her, making her groan and twist on the bed.
He debated torturing her like this for a little while longer, but his own hunger was getting too much for him. The smell of her was making his mouth water and he didn’t see any reason to keep denying himself, so he released her breast, kissed his way down her stomach, and spread her thighs with the weight of his body.
“What . . . are you doing?” Her voice was breathless, panting.
He didn’t answer. It would become clear soon enough and anyway, he didn’t want to waste any time talking about what he was going to do. He just wanted to fucking do it.
Shifting, he settled his hands just above the inside of her knees, holding her legs spread wide. Then he bent and nuzzled the soft, tender skin of her inner thighs. She tensed in anticipation, her breath catching audibly. “Xavier . . .”
He didn’t wait, licking her, straight up the middle of her pussy then lingering on her hard little clit. She cried out, her body tensing like she’d been electrocuted. But he didn’t stop because she tasted like heaven. Like honey and apples, all tart and tangy and sweet at the same time. He couldn’t get enough, licking her again and again, spreading her silky, slick folds with his fingers so he could explore her as much as he could.
Mia twisted and he felt her fingers push into his hair, gripping onto him so tightly it was like she was trying to pull it out by the roots. He ignored the slight pain, his tongue finding the entrance to her body and pushing in deep, loving the high, desperate sound of the cry she made.
Her hips lifted helplessly against his tongue, so he put his hands on her hips and held her down, keeping her still as he licked in and out of her, then finding her clit again and licking that too, circling and teasing. Making her sob.
He loved that he could do that to her. Loved that he could give her this kind of pleasure. Loved that he could make her hold onto him so tightly. None of those other women he’d had over all the years had never held him like that, as if they never wanted to let him go.
You never want her to.
The thought sat in his mind, bright like a star. No, he didn’t. Never.
Her gaze came to his, black in her flushed face, and he felt like he saw the answer to a question he hadn’t known he wanted to ask. It was raw and desperate and it reached inside him and closed around his heart like a hand. Not squeezing hard enough to cause pain, but holding on all the same. Firmly and yet with tenderness, keeping it safe.
He knew he should look away, because that feeling cut him open in a way he wasn’t expecting. Yet he couldn’t. She held him as fast and as tight as he was holding her.
So he kept his gaze on hers as he touched his tongue delicately to her clit, teasing her until he saw the pleasure light up her sharp, lovely face, her hips arching helplessly, her cries of release echoing around him.
Something ached in his chest, the feeling of a hand wrapped around his heart lingering, and he had to look away from her, the sight of her suddenly too much for him.
You’ve made a huge mistake, you know that, right?
No. He was done with thinking right now. It never led anywhere good.
As Mia shook in his arms, he moved away slightly, reaching over to the nightstand drawer and tugging it open. He took out one of the many condoms he kept there, ripped open the packet, and rolled the latex down on himself.
Then he looked at the woman stretched out under him. Her eyes were so dark, fathomless, and when he met her gaze, she lifted her arms to him. As if she wanted to hold him as badly as he wanted to hold her.
Big mistake. Not for her. For you.
He blinked, his chest suddenly painfully tight. Without really thinking about what he was doing, he gripped her hips and turned her over so she was facedown on the pillows.
“Xavier?” She began to twist her head around, but he put a hand to the back of her neck, easing her back down gently.
“Stay there,” he murmured. “Just stay like that.
What the fuck are you doing?
Nothing. He’d simply decided he’d take her from behind, no biggie. Nothing to do with the way she was looking at him or how it would feel to have her arms wind around him and hold him tightly the way she’d done every night for the past week.
Nothing to do with the weird, growing pressure in his chest that he couldn’t figure out and didn’t know what to do with.
He slipped a hand beneath her, lifting her hips, parting the soft, wet folds of her pussy with gentle fingers. She shuddered, her hands fisting the pillows, jerking in his grip.
He didn’t look at her, keeping his gaze down between her thighs as he guided his cock into her, pressing in lightly at first, then more firmly, unable to stop his breath from catching as her pussy gripped his cock tight.
“Xavier.” His name was a soft, hoarse whisper. “Oh, God . . .”
Flexing his hips, he drove himself deep into all that slick, wet heat, the sound of her gasping breath like the stroke of her hand down his spine. And he had to pause there a second, just to get himself the fuck together and not embarrass himself like a teenage boy with his first Victoria’s Secret catalogue.
She was lying on her front, her hair like a churning black waterfall cascading down her spine, deep and dark against her pale skin. She’d turned her head to the side, so he could see her full red mouth and the hectic color in her cheeks. Christ, she was so beautiful.
She arched, her hips shifting, encouraging him to move, and he did, unable to help it. Pulling out and sliding in, the slick squeeze of her body around his cock the most intensely erotic thing he’d ever felt in his life.
He spread his hands out on her skin, one splaying on her stomach, keeping her lifted, the other on her hip to make sure she was steady. She felt so warm.
“God. . . .” She moved again, restlessly. “I need . . . more.”
Of course she did. But he was in no hurry, he could keep doing this all night. In fact, that’s exactly what he planned on doing. Slow and leisurely, drawing it out, making her scream and beg. Making her call his name over and over again.
He shifted his hand on her stomach, easing his fingers down so he could
play with her clit, stroke her in time with his thrusts, deepening her pleasure. She moaned as he did so and moved her arm, reaching behind her, reaching for something.
For a second Xavier stopped, buried deep inside her, watching as her hand moved in the air, her fingers outstretched, reaching for him. She wasn’t even looking, wasn’t turning her head. As if she fully expected him to take her hand.
She doesn’t know what you are. She doesn’t know that you’ll only hurt her in the end, because that’s what you always do. No matter how careful you are, no matter how hard you try, you always break the ones you care about.
A shudder went through him.
“Xavier,” she said, her fingers reaching for him. “Please.”
But he didn’t take her hand. He could feel something cold inside him, snaking through his veins, coiling tight as python around a tree branch, an icy self-protective feeling. As if taking her hand would be a mistake, would promise her things he would never be able to give her. Because he could give her everything she wanted, but if she wanted more . . .
“Please.” she whispered. “I . . . need you.”
He couldn’t leave her reaching for nothing. He couldn’t leave her without something to hold onto, because all her life she’d been reaching out and had found nothing but air.
Not this time.
He’d asked her to make her home with him and she’d said yes, so he put out his hand to her, felt her fingers twine with his, holding on tight. And he gripped her in return, trying to drive away the sudden ache in his chest with heat of her body, with the tide of pleasure that dragged at him, getting deeper and more intense with every thrust. He stroked her clit as he did so, piling on the pleasure, making her shudder and cry out, over and over again, until she was turning her face into the pillow, her cries muffled.
But she didn’t let go, holding onto him as he thrust harder, deeper, the sound of his flesh hitting hers loud in the room, as if he could get rid of the feeling in his heart, the tight, hot feeling that made him want to let her hand go and get out any way he could.
He closed his eyes instead, the wave of pleasure rising up inside him then descending, heavy as a falling building, flattening him completely. He only just managed to not slump over on her, listing to the side and putting out a hand to the pillow beside her head to brace himself, his chest heaving, his head ringing.
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