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“As an oil fire.”
For Xander, that was very serious. Once upon a time, before we’d been torn away from any semblance of normal life, he’d been a firefighter.
As I recalled, oil fires were the worst kind.
“Okay,” I said solemnly.
If he was going to make me ask him for this, then I needed to take it just as seriously.
I squeezed his hands and stared up at him with profound sincerity.
“Xander Miller, will you please, for the sake of our son and for me, your loving mate, seduce Melony Houghton?”
“Wish you were asking me for anything else right now,” he admitted, then gave a resigned sigh. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” I said, my lips curling into a small smile as gratitude pinched my heart.
“But I’m not gonna like it,” he added sternly, reaching for my wrist. “Now, c’mere.”
I laughed as he pulled me toward the bed. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think?” He gripped my waist, and with gentle strength, he pushed me onto the mattress, then settled his body over mine. His knee pressed between my thighs. “I’m not leaving without giving you something to remember me by.”
The deep purr of his voice sent a flutter through my core. As he pressed his lips to my neck, that flutter became a powerful thrum. Heat radiated through me, pulsing up through my spine and down along nerve endings that had been long neglected in the last weeks, nearly forgotten.
I panted and whimpered, arching to meet his kisses, until I remembered—
“Xander,” I yelped, then swallowed my tongue, horrified at the volume of my own voice. With a glance back at Rylan’s bassinet, I dropped into a stern whisper. “Xander. Rylan’s sleeping. If we wake him—”
His lips trailed lower to my collarbones and the swell of my breasts.
“If you’re quiet, we won’t,” he murmured against my skin.
“I don’t know if I can be quiet.” Already, my throat itched with desire to moan for him, to reward his kisses with the noises of pleasure that would only encourage him to create more.
“Mm.” He pulled back, studying me like a problem he was certain he could solve. “Well, if it gets to be too much…” He smirked and put his fingers over my lips. “Just bite down on my hand.”
My eyes went wide as his fingers pressed down against my mouth. Sharp, urgent need sparked between my thighs.
Did he really mean that?
And if so…
Why did I like it so much?
Any questions I had about Xander’s intentions were quickly answered. He palmed my right breast with his free hand, squeezing it so tenderly in a way that made me feel like he wanted to squeeze so much harder. Wherever his lips fell, they burned against my skin.
With a low rumble, just short of a growl, he tugged down the neckline of my nightgown, baring the twin swells of my breasts. He kissed those, too. My nipples stiffened in anticipation.
“They’re gorgeous, Felicity,” he murmured, kissing the valley between them. “Christ, I’ve missed these so much.”
A shiver rattled through me at the sound of my name coming from his lips. He didn’t call me by it often. The playful nickname he’d given me when we were teenagers—after the way my face was always flushing pink when I was around him—had stuck. For so long, I’d truly believed I’d only ever be Cheeks to him, his pudgy tagalong, too much like a sister to ever be considered as a woman. His friend, always, but nothing more.
How wrong I’d been.
I was the mother of his children. His mate.
I’d always be something more now.
