“Uhm...don’t you want to...from behind?” I tilt my head at him. It’s the way we did it back at Christmas, the only way I’ve ever done it with another guy.
“No,” he tells me calmly as he leans in to reach for the pillow, stealing it right from under my head. “I want to look at you.”
My heart squeezes in my chest, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to counteract the sensation, because it’s almost too much. Damn that bastard for making this emotional. Damn him for making this into something I already know I won’t be able to ever forget. Especially not when his face will flicker over my TV screen every hockey season now.
At this moment, I almost hate him again. I’ve never realized until now how close these emotions are tied together—hate and...no.
No, I won’t even think about it.
Xander fluffs up the pillow with both hands before encouraging me to lift my hips with one simple touch. I do it instinctively, but my eyes widen when he stuffs the pillow under my ass.
“You sleep on that!” I protest.
“I can always swap it out with Nate’s later,” he jokes, then throws his head back in a hoarse laugh when he recognizes the pure horror on my face.
“I’d never. If anything, I hope you’ll leave your scent on it.” And then that bastard winks at me before he aligns his dick with my entrance and starts to push inside.
I hold my breath as he breaches me with the head. Despite his thorough stretching, there’s an unfamiliar pressure building inside of me. But once more Xander takes his time, sinking into me inch by inch.
“Do you need me to stop?” he asks in between small kisses.
“No, keep going,” I grunt out stubbornly, while I try to follow his instructions and breathe in deeply. His hand wraps around mine, guiding it to my own erection and initiating a slow stroke that leads my attention away.
He sinks onto me once he’s fully buried inside me, our chests pressed together as we breathe in and out, in and out. This feels a thousand times more intimate than when our roles were reversed.
I let him inside of me. A place where no other person has been before.
“Okay?” he murmurs against my ear, his hot breath making me shiver.
“More than okay,” I croak out.
Realizing I can take advantage of my position, I wrap my legs around his waist and squeeze. “Come on, Lexi, fuck me.”
Xander pushes up again, arranging my legs over his shoulders. His first thrusts are shallow and careful, giving me an opportunity to get used to this. I have to urge him on by rolling my hips and meeting him halfway. Only then does he give up the tight grip on his self-control to drive deeper and bury his dick right to the base inside of me.
“Fuck,” I breathe, spreading my arms out on the bed to steady myself. I’m turned on by the act in itself, but I think I prefer topping—until he changes the angle.
When he slams into me the next time, my whole body is overcome by an unexpected wave of pleasure. There are no words to describe the amount of lust it sets free in me.
The sheer want.
I have never needed an orgasm more in my life, yet I also don’t want to come and put an end to this.
“Oh Lexi, oh baby, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moan out, tossing my head from side to side. It’s almost too much, and I don’t know what to do with myself other than hold onto the sheets and open my legs wider for him.
His words float around me, soothing and encouraging, but I don’t understand any of them, too absorbed in this haze of sex and touch. Xander’s hand curls around my erection.
It takes only a few strokes until my muscles lock up tightly, then release in the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced.
It’s like an eruption right behind my navel. The ripples travel through my whole body, right into the tips of my fingers and toes, until I’m completely consumed by hot pleasure.
I’m still breathing heavily when Xander goes still above me, his lips parted in a silent moan as he topples over the edge right behind me. My eyelids are heavy, but I force them open, ready to commit every detail of this moment to memory. I want to be able to recall everything—from the way his features relax, over how his black strands are slicked back, right to the sweat glistening on his chest.
Only when he collapses on top of me, do I allow my eyes to fall closed, my nose nudging against his temple.
When I inhale, I can still catch a hint of citrus.
Xander, March 29th
