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Never ending, one touch breaks me,
Sear you into my memory
Don’t run
Don't fight
Let me have one more chance with you–
My breath caught. Xoan stopped playing, reaching out to cup my face with one hand and covered my mouth with his.
Everything stopped. My breath, my heart, the world. His arms folded around me, the guitar placed somewhere else as he arced his body over mine. The firm pressure of his tongue across the seam of my mouth left me gasping and he filled my mouth with long, languid strokes that left me hot and shivery all over.
Xoan’s hands snaked across my knees, tracing the spaces in my fishnets over the plump skin on my thighs. “Lie back for me, Indi.”
His tone commanded but when he pulled back far enough for me to see his eyes, a question in his that made me his answer.
“You took control last time,” I whispered, my hands trembling as I traced the tattoos at his neck, sliding my fingers beneath his shirt to touch his hot flesh beneath. “Maybe I should this time.”
What the hell am I doing?
My mind screamed at me. I was by no means dominant in bed and I hated taking control. But some part of me recognised that Xoan wouldn’t let me touch him the way I wanted to explore him if I didn’t.
He paused, winding his fingers through my hair in a bid to retain some control for himself and nodded jerkily.
Heart thumping hard into my ribcage, I swung one booted leg over his denim encased ones. He rolled with me, letting me climb on top of him, his hands settling on my thighs. Xoan’s body wasn’t the heavy set sort, but it was full of muscle. The lean, ripped and deadly sort that belied the amount of strength within.
Rolling my hips, I rubbed my fishnet and lace clad pussy over his thickening cock that bulged against his jeans, settling where he let me straddle him as I played with his shirt. He hissed when I repeated the action, sliding one hand beneath his collar, rolling my hips in the other direction, rocking myself against him.
Hot spikes of pleasure that petered out far too fast rippled through me, and I let out a breathy moan.
“Can I undo your shirt?” I asked softly, unwilling to break the quiet passion that wound around us, tethering us together.
“Can I rip your fishnets open and fuck you?” he answered roughly, fisting my hair in one hand and pulling my head back to expose my throat.
Xoan’s lips skated over my neck to my shoulder, leaving hot licks and nips in their wake, while his free hand ghosted along my side, bunching my skirt in his fist and tugging it sharply.
I dropped my hands from his shirt, working the short zip that held the skirt together along one side and tugged it free. Xoan ripped it away, growling softly as his hand came down on my netted flesh hard.
“Don’t. Ever. Run. From. Me,” he rasped, pulling my mouth to his, only breaking the brutal kiss to glare into my eyes. “It hurt, Indi. Coming back to that room, and you weren’t where I needed you.”
Some part of me wanted to screamcontrolling asshole; the other half of me melted.
“Are we going to be toxic together, this fling thing?” I asked breathlessly, unwilling to recognise that his harsh words curled low in my belly.
Hell, when he gripped my fishnets at my crotch and ripped them apart, I nearly came on the spot.
“Maybe,” he murmured, playing with my pussy through the lace thong I wore with him in mind. Black and blue, with tiny delicate patterns. Flimsy, as I knew he liked it rough. I knew I’d be sopping, soaking his fingers as he stroked me gently, his touch so at odds with the violence of his actions a moment before. “Are you going to run from me if I am?”
I should.
I shivered. “No,” I whispered. “Are you going to track me down if I do?”
His fingers stilled as he cupped my pussy, squeezing a firm warning into my skin. “Yes,” he rasped, then I was on my back.
His shirt was gone and my thong ripped clear. The feel of his cock against my bare slit registered a moment before he pushed inside.
“Condom,” I moaned, barely able to think with him hitting every right spot inside me. “The stretch–”
