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Peyton
One month later…
“Stop.”Laughter spilled out of me as Xander tickled my waist, his legs tangled with mine, the brush of his bare skin and teasing fingers sending shivers through me.
“You know the safe word.” He grinned, nuzzling my neck. His fingers painted torturous circles along my curves.
“Xander, I… have to…” They changed direction, gliding down the flat of my stomach and straight over my panties. I gasped, the sensations overwhelming.
“You were saying?” He kissed the corner of my mouth, a wicked glint in his eye.
“You are so bad.”
He hooked my panties aside and pressed two fingers into me without warning. A moan got stuck in my throat, but then he was kissing me, swallowing every breath and sigh. “Hmm,” he murmured, “you’re always so wet for me.”
“Kiss me,” I whispered, curving my hand around Xander’s neck and pulling him to me.
He crushed his mouth against mine, kissing me hard. Deep and bruising. His fingers curled inside me as his thumb circled my clit, sending me racing toward ecstasy.
“God, it always feels so good,” I murmured between hot wet kisses.
My body was a tightly coiled spring, an intense wave building inside me as he kept working me with his fingers.
“More…”
“Greedy girl.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth, lazily flicking his tongue over the seam of my lips. Licking and nipping my jaw.
Kissing Xander was my favorite thing. I loved the scrape of his stubble against my face, the taste of his tongue, the way he gripped the nape of my neck, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
“I’m close,” I moaned. “Keep—”
He ripped his fingers out of me and smirked.
“Xander, what the hell?” I glared at him, and he chuckled.
“Together.” His smirk grew as he moved on top of me, fitting into the cradle of my thighs.
In one smooth stroke, he filled me, and we both moaned.
Xander gazed down at me as he pulled out and sank back inside, so deep a bite of pain went through me. But it was quickly drenched in pleasure as we found our rhythm.
“Fuck, you feel good.” He leaned down, capturing my mouth in a slow, dirty kiss. I lifted my hips to meet him, thrust for thrust, and he grabbed my legs, hitching them around so he could go deeper… harder… faster.
“Xander,” I cried.
He lowered his head, running the flat of his tongue over my nipple and then closed his mouth over it, sucking.
My hands dug into his shoulders, pleasure sparking off around my body. “It feels…”
“Yeah, I know.” Xander smiled against my neck, kissing me there. “I love you, Peyton.”
No more words were spoken as he loved my body into utter bliss.
It was always intense between us, as if we both knew how lucky we were to have found each other. Our relationship didn’t start conventionally, and society might have judged us—judged him—for being together, but it didn’t matter.
Nothing would ever come between us again.
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