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Because I know there’s no way out of it now.
I’m going to be absolutely wrecked by this man.
Chapter 15
I stop fighting.
I give myself up to it.
To him.
For two weeks, it’s nothing but eating and fucking and taking care of the horses. And then more fucking. Always the fucking. It’s like once we’ve gotten a taste of each other, we can’t stop. When we wake up in bed, in the middle of the night, mid-morning when our initial chores are done.
Anytime, anywhere.
He plays my body like a finely tuned instrument and only he knows the melody.
One morning, when he makes French toast out of thick slices of bread, I’m salivating and attentive at his feet. I lick the syrup off his fingers after he feeds me a bite, tongue teasing as I blink up at him seductively.
He manages to last for a whole half a piece of French toast before hauling me onto the table and fucking my brains out, breakfast forgotten. I mewl like a cat as my orgasm hits, scrabbling at the table for purchase.
He thrusts even more vigorously, riding me through the first and right into a second. Turns out, he has even more energy in the mornings than at the end of the day.
I’m sweaty, satisfied, and breathless when he pulls my jeans back up and returns me to my cushion at his feet. I lay my head on his thigh, still recovering, and he strokes my hair back from my face.
Back in the city I always got it cut promptly each month to keep the bob fresh, but in the month and a half I’ve been here, it’s started growing out. I’m constantly pushing it behind my ears to keep it out of my face.
Xavier hasn’t said anything about it, but I think he’d prefer it longer.
And suddenly I’m very keen to conform to whatever Xavier might like best.
Even a few weeks ago the thought would have disturbed me. Outright disgusted me. But as I nestle my cheek against him and let out a contented sigh, now I wonder, just, why? Why was I pushing so hard against him?
I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy or content. This free.
And yes, I’m clear-headed enough to realize how ridiculously contradictory that sounds.
But it’s true all the same.
I feel liberated.
Like I have no worries in the world. I don’t have to worry about anything. Xavier’s taken it all for me.
I laugh at the realization, feeling a strange giddiness and press my face into his thigh. My whole life has been a mad-dog fight. For grades. Then for the best internships. Then to be better than all my male colleagues to get ahead at work. And for what? What did all that get me? I was never really happy. It was all about just waking up again the next day and striving more for the next hurdle to overcome.
But now?
I think this feeling flooding me is genuine happiness.
Here of all places.
With Xavier.
Because of Xavier.
I raise my head and grin up at him. He pauses stroking my hair, his expression wary and a little befuddled.
I laugh and stand up, then climb up into his lap face to face, straddling him on the chair. I take his face in my hands. The burned part feels smooth and cool to the touch. My finger traces down between the raised ridges of one of the spider lines that runs across his cheek and he reaches up to grab my wrist. He shakes his head back and forth.
