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He growls against the base of my ear.
“You drive me insane, Rhi. Do you know how bad I want to rip your clothes off and have you ride my face until you’re screaming louder than the singers on stage?”
My nipples pebble at his words, straining for attention, crying to be free. A scorching, hot-heat travels through my bones, incinerating all common sense, and all I can think about is Xavier making me come. And oh, how bad I want him to. So very bad.
“Do you think you can make me scream that loud?” I ask as the woman hits a high note full of longing. More than anything, I want to hit my very own high note right along with her.
“Oh, I know I can.” Xavier slides a finger through my wetness, stroking back and forth before pushing it inside me. “And for the finale, I’d make sure to have you on all fours—panting, breathless, and begging for more of my thick cock inside you.”
And it is thick; he's not exaggerating. I moan. I don’t want him to stop, but we’re at the opera for God’s sake.
Xavier doesn’t care, he keeps thrumming me like his very own orchestra. Playing all the instruments in harmony. And I’m the star. The star who’s just about ready to come all over this beautiful man’s hand.
“Are you going to come for me, Rhi?”
“Yes, please, don’t stop.”
The sensations build and build, and I bear down on his hand, grinding and rocking.
“I want to watch your face when you come. Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
I no longer care the place is packed with hundreds of people. All I care about is this moment, with this man I’ve been missing for far too long. He didn't have to take me; he owns every part of me. My body. My heart. My soul. All his.
His thumb circles my tender clit, racing in time with the music, with his expert finger so deep inside me. Working me over. And under. Every direction known to man. It’s insane how much I feel right now.
Everything I’ve bottled away for so long, breaks free with his possessive touch.
“Xavier,” I moan, unable to say anything else, overwhelmed with feelings as the voice on the stage sings about heartache.
He doesn’t relent, keeps finger fucking me as if he’s never enjoyed anything more.
“Are you going to come on my hand? Or do you need me to kneel down and suck your sweet pussy into my mouth and get you off with my tongue?”
The power of words. My brain is completely useless now.
My heart races to the tempo of what's happening on stage.
“You’re so hot when you come. Let me see you. Open your eyes.”
I raise my lids, engulfed by the heated haze settling over his irises. He’s so turned on.
My hands brace his cheeks, letting his fire burn me. The intimacy I feel right now is out of this world. It’s like its own planet. Solar system. No, universe.
Three dangerous words pop into my head, but I swallow them down as my world spirals so close to that pivotal moment when I’ll lose myself completely.
I'm not going to last long, but I try to hold out, not wanting this to end just yet.
Unable to handle the intensity of his stare, I tilt him closer and our hungry lips meet. He moans into my mouth. And I catch every word he silently speaks to me as the voice on stage laments a lost love.
And then I lose control. I buck against his hand, as his tongue plunges deeper into my mouth. Cries of pure ecstasy fly out of my mouth and he catches them with ease with his. Every nerve ending stands at attention, and then crashes back again as the theatre thunders with applause. Xavier smiles when he releases the kiss, and then, he does the most unexpected—he brings his lips to place a gentle kiss on both my eyelids, my forehead, and one on each cheek.
Almost as if he worships my face. I’m too stunned to move. To stunned to breathe as my body fights for control.
He removes his hand from under my very expensive dress, a dress bought to enjoy a show I haven’t even watched one minute of and brings his fingers to his lips. And he sucks. He sucks my release from his fingers.
My eyes watch him closely.
“Later, I want this dripping down my tongue.”
