“Yeah.” He drags his hands up my thighs. “But I want you to break them for me.”
“What do you mean?” I blink. “How?”
He leans in, kissing the swell of one breast, then the other. His mouth is hot, insistent. “Get on top.”
The words stop me cold. Not because I don’t want to.
Because I do.
So much that it scares me.
“Why?”
“Because I want to see you take what you want.”
My breath stutters.
“I want to watch you come apart from something you chose.” He slides his hands up my waist, stopping just beneath my breasts. “I want to feel your rhythm. Your pace. Your pleasure.”
“Xavier…” I’ve never been the one in charge in the bedroom.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me.” His voice is equal parts promise and reassurance. “I just want you. However you want me.”
In that moment, my nervousness evaporates.
I climb onto the mattress slowly, straddling his lap, my thighs bracketing his. I press down, the heat of him solid and pulsing against me. His breath catches.
I wrap my arms around his neck. Then I channel my inner vixen, leaning in to whisper, “Then shut up and let me take.”
He groans as I shift my hips, finding the perfect alignment.
“Wait a second.” He reaches for the nightstand. His wallet is there, and he digs out a condom.
Silently thanking his foresight, I squeeze my eyes shut. When it comes to him, desire short-circuits reason. For the second time this evening, I would have forgotten protection.
“Do this for me?” He offers me the package.
My fingers are shaking, and I drop it. With a grin, he offers it again.
Finally, somehow, I manage to tear open the foil.
“Good. Now put it on me.”
I swallow hard.
He’s already thick and hard, pulsing against his stomach, his erection straining upward like he’s sculpted from need and steel.
Oh…God.
My breath catches. My body clenches in anticipation.
I slide down his thighs, the warmth of his skin making me dizzy, and settle between his legs.
“Put it on my cockhead, then roll it down.”
I curl my hand around the base of him, and he groans—raw and low, like the sound got torn straight from his chest.
The weight of him fills my palm. Hot, heavy, pulsing with restrained hunger. He jerks slightly under my touch, and it does something wicked to me.
