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Please. Oh God, it feels so good, but I need more. The fire he’s stoking—oh Jesus it’s— I can’t even— I had no idea how much I’d been missing it. But I’m liquid fire. The need is all consuming. His touch. His tongue. His heat.
I’ve never needed anything more in my life.
And.
Then.
He.
Stops.
As in, completely stops.
He pulls away from me, stands up, and starts walking away toward his horse like he’s ready to mount up and head back home.
Just leaving me there, spread-eagled and half naked on the grass underneath the fucking tree in the middle of nowhere.
“Wha—” I scramble to a sitting position, shooting daggers that would kill a lesser man. “Get the hell back here!”
He turns to me.
And dares to give me the goddamned eyebrow lift.
“Is there something you wanted?” he asks innocently.
Son of a mother-fucking bastard piece of—
But then my inner tirade stops.
Because it hits me.
There never was any other choice.
We were always going to end up here.
And right now, tortured and on the edge of the sweetest release, with him so mouthwatering, even if part of me does still want to strangle him, I’m all right with that fact.
It seems stupid that I fought it so long.
Still, I can’t help adding a bit of sass as I kick off my jeans and drop my legs open even wider.
“Fuck me, Xavier, please, I’m begging you.” I blink my eyes prettily and put my hands underneath my chin like I’m praying. “Oh please won’t you put that glorious cock inside me and fuck me because I simply cannot live another moment without it?”
His eyes narrow, but he reaches behind him and in one swift motion, jerks his tank top over his head.
My eyes widen at seeing his huge, sweat-slicked chest on display. I know I see him mostly naked every night during our baths—he’s taken to wearing boxers in the tub, like even seeing all of him is a privilege I have to earn—but the sheer size of him never ceases to amaze me. Where the hell do they grow men like him? Did he accidentally swallow some Miracle-Gro as a child or something?
His pants come off next. And boxers.
Oh, wow. He’s fully hard. Like, fully. I really haven’t seen… that part of him since… well, for a long while now. And in the full bright late afternoon sun, just, holy baby Jesus.
It’s long and pulsing and pointed straight at me.
Xavier stalks my direction, gaze dark, his mouth a hard line.
Suddenly all my bravado from moments ago dissipates like a popped bubble.
Um, can I retract my former request and forget I said anything? We’ll just go back to the whole grooming and dinner routine like nothing ever happened? How about that? That’s sounding swell right about now.
