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Xander comes into the car, and holds my hands. “No,” he growls. “You put this on to tempt me.”
I nod. “I did.”
“Time to see what you wrought, then,” he rumbles.
The car starts, but Xander doesn’t move from where he’s perched. One of his hands tugs the top of my dress down, and the other travels up the inside of my thigh.
“Xander,” I breathe as he finds my slit.
He doesn’t respond.
Two thick fingers press inside me. His other hand clutches at my breast, pulling my nipple as he pumps his fingers in and out of my wet entrance.
Fuck.
If I don’t stop him, I’m going to come. I’m going to come much, much faster than I wanted to.
Xander knows. His eyes light up as he presses inside me. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To feel my fingers on you? To see what this dress would let me do?”
I don’t have a response for that. I’m so close, I just need…
Abruptly, Xander’s fingers pull back.
I glare at him. “Why did you stop?”
He leans forward, kissing me until I’m moaning under him again.
When he pulls back, his eyes are dark. “You tortured me all night, Mel. Seems fair that I’d do the same to you.”
The words make me shiver.
Soon, we're home and like a man possessed, he takes me by my lips the minute he ushers me down, kissing me all through the entrance.
His hand is all over me, pushing my dress to my waist, my hand desperate and hungry for the brand of his touch.
He lifts me into his arms and climbs up the stairs to his door. I don't argue with the display of possessiveness.
I don't think I want to be out of his arms ever again. Only Xander holds me this way, like he never wants to let me go.
By the time we make it to his room, I'm panting and gasping for breath, and when the door is shoved closed behind him, I know it’s the start of a long, long night. . .
