AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She was at a fork in the road. In one direction, was a reality in which Joshua had a father – and Xavier was in their lives. Xavier who she would never trust, who she would always hate, who would never remember her. But Joshua would have a father.
And the alternative? She could walk out of this hotel room, keeping her secret, keeping Joshua to herself, knowing that Xavier and his parents deserved that fate.
Her heart was heavy.
It was a decision that her conscience dictated as easy, but for Ellie, there was no black and white answer. She needed to think. She needed to talk to her twin sister Eleanor – who always saw things clearly.
“I can’t be here,” she said with a shake of her head. “I need to go home.”
“Why? Why can you not stay and fill in the gaps for me?”
“Because,” she murmured, moving away from him as though he were on fire. She stalked towards the door, grabbing her clutch purse up as she went, pain in every step.
“Because is not an answer,” he rejected from behind her, angry, impatient, desperate.
“It’s the only answer you’re going to get.”
“You can’t just walk away from this!”
“Why not?” She returned, a caustic laugh thick in her throat. “You did.”
“Damn it!” He caught her at the door, moving to stand in front of it, staring at her, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. “I look at you and I feel…” He shook his head, impatient, urgent. He swore in his own tongue. “I feel like I have to do this.” And he dropped his head so hard and fast that she had no warning, she couldn’t have predicted it. His lips crushed hers, taking her, and his body spun them so that her back was pressed to the door. He kissed her until she saw stars and the past, and she felt everything slip into place inside of her, even when she knew it wouldn’t for him.
His tongue dueled with hers and it was everything she knew and nothing she remembered, because his kisses in the past had been gentle and slow, an exploration and an entreaty. This was dominance, plain and simple, and she moaned into his mouth, welcoming it, welcoming him.
Strength be damned, determination too. She had spent four years wanting him, needing him, she had been through hell and back, worrying that he had died in the accident, then that he would die for a long, terrible month, and then seeing his wedding photos, knowing he was married to someone else.
And she hated him for the fact he’d lied to her and cheated her, and she hated him for marrying another woman, but she wanted him more than she hated him, and desire was the only emotion she intended to listen to.
She melted into his body as he pressed it harder to hers, and when his palms dropped to her shoulders, pushing the straps of her evening gown down, she only kissed him harder, tilting her head up, imploring him to continue. The dress was satin and it teased her nipples as it slid over her flesh. She hadn’t worn a bra; her breasts were neat and the dress had enough structure to offer support. But when his rough palms found her breasts she whimpered low in her throat, the touch so personal, so perfect, that she was utterly lost to it.
“Who are you?” He demanded fiercely, breaking the kiss and leaving her breathless. She wanted to cry out, “noooo!” because she needed, more than anything, for him to continue.
And he did. He dragged his mouth to her breasts, dragging one nipple into his mouth and sucking on it until she was crying his name out, over and over. She felt his smile against her breast, and then he tormented the other, so she was begging him for more, and she hated that he could do that to her but he always, without fail, had held this skill.
“Tell me your name,” he demanded, pushing the dress down her body with hands that were so familiar to her.
Ellie. He’d called her Ellie, because it had been on her name tag, and because she’d loved the way it made it feel as though they knew one another so much better than they did. She was different now though. He’d broken her down and she’d rebuilt herself. Ellie was no longer within his reach.
“Elizabeth,” she said. He lifted his head, his eyes pinning hers, boring into her and she knew what drove the desperation of his next kiss. He still didn’t remember. The name meant nothing to him.
He was chasing memories in her mouth, with her body, and she was letting him. No, more than that. She was needing him to. “Please, Xavier,” she begged, kissing the words into his soul. “I need you.”
Oh, and she did. She needed him as much as he needed her. Desperately and completely.
The dress dropped to her feet and she lifted one leg, wrapping it around his back, holding him to her, and he made a groaning sound before pushing at his pants, unzipping them, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a condom. He covered himself and then, without waiting, without even removing her underwear, he simply pushed the flimsy cotton aside and thrust into her.
She cried out, the invasion so perfect, so complete, his thick arousal driving into her core so that she was completely his. She’d never forgotten this, yet it was better, different, than she remembered. Four years of longing had burned her from the inside out, and now, as he took her hard against the cold door of his apartment, she admitted to herself that she’d wanted this from the first moment she’d seen him.
His hands ran over her body, her body that had craved his touch, then curved behind her bottom, lifting her, holding her to him. He kissed her and he moved hard and fast and she exploded, the cry of pleasure ringing out through the beautiful hotel suite, filling it with heady release.
He held her while she came, and he kissed her, and said words in Spanish, just like he had before, just like he had in the past. And she pushed that thought away because she didn’t want this to be like then. She didn’t want this to be like anything he’d ever felt before, even when she knew he’d obviously felt it with many women.
She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, wanting to see more of him. She traced lines down his front and then untucked his shirt at his waistband, but his hands found hers, lifting them away from him, catching them and holding them above her head, one of his hands more than sufficient for her much smaller ones. He held her arms above her head, and his other he kept at her waist and he held her trapped, his prisoner – his oh so willing prisoner. She tilted her head back until it connected with the door and she swore then chased his mouth with hers, swearing again, pushing the curse into him and knowing he understood.
“Who were you to me, Elizabeth?” He groaned, and she was riding a wave of pleasure, too fast and hard to answer. A low, keening noise was coming from deep within her. She held onto the wave, and then it broke against the shore of her desire, so that she was crashing with it, lust and passion engulfing her as her orgasm tore through her. But she wasn’t alone; he was with her, his thrusts harder and deeper, his hand on hers pinching her wrists as he emptied his body of seed, his arousal throbbing inside of her, sending her crazy with his possession.
It was like running a marathon. They were both breathless, but only she was dizzy and weak. He held her against his body, his cock still buried inside her, and he carried her through to the bedroom, laying her down, separating them for the shortest possible time before bringing his body back over hers. He kissed her briefly on the lips, a kiss of torment, then he returned to her breasts, teasing them with his mouth, flicking her engorged nipples with his tongue until her fever was reaching its zenith once more.
