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"I know you're probably sore from how many times I fucked you last night so I'm not going to fuck you again just yet, but I'm addicted to your orgasms. I love how enthusiastic you are when I make you quake." His pace quickens as he pushes my legs apart, grinding his erection against my lower back. Jolts of electricity run through my veins as I moan for more. "That pit of magma right here, darling," he whispers with a raunchy tone as he presses two fingers inside me and my knees shake. His fingers switch quickly to a come-here motion against my g-spot and my brain fogs with need. "That's all mine. Every last shudder and moan is mine. I take great pride in making you so turned on." My hips buck against his hand as my belly tenses and I cry out with pleasure. "That's my good girl. Come for me," he demands, his voice hoarse with desire.
My pussy clamps down on his fingers in a vice grip as I turn my face and kiss him, moaning as I ride out my orgasm.
I am quickly becoming addicted to this man like a damn drug, and I'm not fighting the effect he has on me. Not anymore. I don't want to fight. I want to fall into him and never resurface. I know that's stupid, given the circumstances and who he is, but I don't care. I'm sick of being a good girl. I want to be reckless with him.
His fingers keep fucking me as he kisses me like I'm the air he needs, like I'm the only thing he needs.
No one has ever kissed me like this.
A few minutes pass and I come again before he removes his fingers from my panties and trails his kisses back down my neck. Breathlessly, I struggle to stop my head from spinning as he puts the shirt back to cover my panties.
"It's taking every ounce of self-control I have not to fuck you on the counter," he growls as he moves away from me.
I look at him over my shoulder, but he doesn't notice. He's too busy staring at my ass and stroking his dick through his dark jeans and resituating his mechanic shirt, smoothing the wrinkles. It's nice to know I affect him as much as he does me.
I quickly finish making the cups of coffee and hand Xander a plate of food.
I don't know much about Xander's schedule, but from what I overheard of his conversation with Rafael the other day, he's already had his one day off this week.
"Aren't you running late?" I ask, but all he does is smirk before taking his coffee and breakfast to the living room. I don't miss a beat, grabbing my coffee before following him. "Well?"
"I switched shifts just for today. I'll be working late. Just relax today. Kick up your feet, watch TV, you know," he suggests as I take a sip of my coffee.
"The kind of things I watch on TV don't play during the day. I'm a horror movie kind of girl." My tone is teasing, but the words themselves are honest. I don't like daytime TV. My mom has always loved those soap operas and shows like Grey's Anatomy and The Office, but I'm more partial to things like Saw, Halloween, and Deep Blue Sea. I like shark movies, psychological thrillers, and horror movies.
"Well, what do you like to do during the day to relax?" he asks, curiosity across his face, as he takes a sip of his coffee.
"I like to read."
He rolls his eyes. "Oh, great. I bet you like to read those educational books and classical novels, right?"
"Uh, no." I laugh at the ridiculousness. "I read for enjoyment, not to give myself a headache trying to understand iambic pentameter."
"Not a fan of Shakespeare, huh?" He smirks and I'm surprised by him having pentameter so fresh in his memory, but I don't let it show.
"Absolutely not. I'm alright with using my imagination to fill the gaps in a scene, but he pushed it too far."
"So, what do you read then?" He lifts the steaming mug to his lips, taking another sip.
"Smut." I shouldn't be surprised by the way he coughs and spurts coffee all over the red toolbox used as a makeshift coffee table. "Xander! Are you okay?" I move close to him and rub his back as he wheezes, his eyes watering.
"Yeah. Ugh. Warn a guy before you do that, would ya?" He lets out a ragged laugh.
I just stare at him blankly for a minute. "Do what?"
"You shocked the piss out of me, darling. I was expecting you to say anything but that."
I flush. I expected to be more embarrassed to tell him about my hobby of reading smutty books, but I'm not. I'm excited to talk to him about my interests and find out his thoughts on them.
"You asked."
He shrugs. After a few minutes of calming down from his shock, Xander finishes his breakfast, gives me a heart-stopping kiss, and leaves out the door with his cup of coffee in hand.
Out of pure boredom, I do the dishes and am loading laundry in the washing machine when I hear the front door open.
"Xander, is that you?" I ask from the hall as I close the washing machine.
"What are you doing?" he asks, amusement in his voice.
