I take my time undressing him, savoring every inch of revealed skin like he’s something sacred. Xavier tries to rush me, hips lifting, hands tugging at my belt, but I grab his wrists and pin them above his head. His whole body shivers.
“Let me look.”
He stills, offering himself up. I love that he trusts me with his body, his heart, his life force. And God, that undoing hits so deep.
“Beautiful.” I kiss down his sternum, over his stomach. His thighs tremble when I spread them farther apart, settling between them like I was carved to fit exactly there.
“Arte.” His voice is charged with want.
I lift my gaze to his. “I’ve got you.”
When I slide inside him, it’s a language we’ve spent months learning, with my hands steady, his breath catching, and the world narrowing down to the charged heat between us. I take him apart slowly, savoring every sound he makes,every clench of muscle, every soft plea that escapes before he can swallow it back.
He breaks first, arching up, fingers digging into my shoulders. “Please… I’m so close…”
“Good.” My whisper skims against the shell of his ear, as I thrust deeper, slower, completely determined to make him feel every fucking inch of me inside him. “Give it to me.”
He falls apart with my name on his tongue, his body shaking, his head tipped back in surrender. I’m buried deep in the man I’m going to marry, grounding myself in the feel of him, the heat, the certainty.
The second my breathing evens out, Xavier twists beneath me, rolling us until I’m flat on my back, and he’s straddling my hips. His hair’s a mess, cheeks pink, lips swollen—he looks wicked and gorgeous and determined in a way that makes heat lance straight through me, settling heavy in my balls.
“Oh no.” His drawl is honey thick. “You’re not getting the last word like that.”
My cock is oversensitive, my body humming from the orgasm he wrung out of me—but he clenches around me deliberately, and I nearly come again on the spot.
“Xavier—fuck?—”
He smiles. “Mmmhmm.” He braces his hands on my chest and lifts his hips, slow, agonizing. Every inch he pulls off me feels like he’s dragging my soul out with him. When he sinks back down, it’s hot and tight and perfect, and I swear I see stars.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, watching my face like it’s his favorite TV show. “Already wrecked.”
“Your fault.” My voice is a rasp as I grip his thighs. “You feel… God.Duende.”
“Addictive?” He rolls his hips in a tight, deliberate circle that punches a moan out of me. “Yeah. I know.”
Smug fucker. Beautiful smug fucker. He leans forward,kissing me with his slow, filthy, tongue, teasing mine until I’m desperate. Then he breaks away to whisper in my ear, “I want you shaking by the end of this. Understand?”
My whole body flares hot. “Sí.”
“Good boy.”
Christ. The words hit harder than they should—hot, direct, and unraveling something tight inside me. I can’t say I’ve ever had a praise kink, but maybe I do for this one. Maybe he’s the key to unlock a piece I never knew existed. Or maybe, I’m growing, changing into something new because of him.
I don’t have time to think on it, because he starts riding me in earnest—long, deep strokes that make my spine curl and my hands clutch at the sheets. His rhythm is obscene, precise, like he’s memorized every part of me and is playing me like a professional musician.
“You always take care of me.” He’s panting, moving faster now. “Let me take care of you.” He leans back, palms dragging over the hair on my chest and down my abdomen, my hips, my thighs. His gaze is hungry, reverent. “Let me watch you break for me.”
I don’t stand a fucking chance. My orgasm builds brutally fast, pressure yanking tight and low in my gut. I grab his hips, trying to control my thrusts, but he swats my hands away.
My thighs are shaking, my breath stuttering, my fingers clawing for something…anythingto tether me.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growls at me, riding me harder. “You’re mine—let me make you come.” His voice is a low command that shoots straight through me—there’s no fighting it. And for once, I don’t even want to.
I’m past words—just gasps and curses and the rough sound of his name tearing out of me. Xavier bends forward without slowing, his mouth on my neck, sucking a mark into my skin between short, sharp breaths.
And then, like he wants to ruin me completely, he wrapshis fingers around my balls, squeezing me with devastating precision. My back arches off the mattress. “Duende, please.”
“Come for me.” He bites at my jaw. “I want to feel you lose it inside me.”
