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“I’ll buy you a cupboard full,” he promised, his eyes slightly crazed as he stared at me, one hand unbuckling his belt. “Maybe after I spank this hide a pretty pink and make you come on my lap.”
My moan at his filthy words was cut off by his kiss, and another started when he pushed into my pussy. Unlike the last few times he wasn’t rough, taking his time to enter me slowly, withdrawing at an excruciating pace.
“Harder, please,” I gasped.
“Faster, you mean?” He moved, catching my chin in his hand and squeezing as he slammed himself home. His thighs slapped mine, denim and his belt tearing into me, but I didn’t care. My pants drove him wild, his eyes hooding, shadows flitting behind them with every sound I made. “Or harder?”
He drove into me again and again, then slowed, working my orgasm so close to the edge I wanted to scream for more than one reason.
“Please,” I begged. “Xoan!” I gasped as he reached down, pinching my clit and rolling the pebbled nerve between his forefinger and thumb.
“Please torture you? Fuck you? Make love to you?” he serenaded me in a husky tone designed to corrupt any girl, I was certain.
“Anything. Everything,” I gasped, my breaths shortening as my body tingled, tightening.
“Even making love to you?” he asked silkily.
Some part of me knew this was a trap he set, but I was too far gone to see the end game.
“God, yes. I swear I fell for you the moment we were together the first time,” I babbled uselessly, not listening to the home truths my mind spilled without asking permission first.
Xoan broke back, his expression softening. “Me too, pretty goth girl,” he murmured affectionately. “Insta love, huh? There’s probably a song in that.” He flipped off the hot water and carried me out of the shower, my legs still wrapped around his waist, him still embedded deep inside me.
“What are you doing?” I gasped as my pending orgasm subsided.
He laughed softly, sending sensation skittering along my spine. “Making love to you, Indi. Didn’t we just profess that to each other?” He tossed towels on the floor, making a nest he laid me in gently. “Undying, forever, eternal love and peace and pretty silences where I can worship you with my mouth?”
“Uh–” I didn’t remember saying anything like that, but he pulled out from my body, leaving me aching for all the right reasons this time, and lowered his mouth to my pussy.
My brain function ceased.
His tongue slipped across the tender surface, sweet but fast until it felt like there were a hundred tongues caressing me, and I splintered into a hundred versions of me staring down at the man who just professed love in the strangest, most wonderful way I ever heard.
He worked his way along my body, kissing me deeply with my own release on his lips and slid back inside me, aided by the orgasms he gave me.
Then Xoan Kennedy made love to me, slowly and passionately, on a bed of soft towels and starlight, marking my body and my soul with his name, and his with mine.
