“Here.” From a pocket, Xavier produced a condom, ripped it open with his teeth, then held it out to me. “Would you?”
His eyes had softened somehow, yearning, even.
I gulped and accepted the small packet. “I—ah—it’s been a while.”
That full mouth tipped on one side into a half smile I was beginning to recognize as fondness. “I know, babe. I still want you to.”
Awkwardly, I fumbled with the packet, hurried by the throbbing want between my legs despite my nerves. Somehow, I managed to get out the bit of latex, pulled out the tip, then pressed it over the end of his cock.
“Um,” I murmured. “It’s—how do I—”
“Let me help.”
His hands gently closed over mine, guiding the rubber over his erection, holding both our hands still over him once we were finished so he could kiss me again, this time with considerable force.
“Can I?” he murmured, poised just at my opening.
I looked down. He was so big. And I was…not. But once, he had fit there. And God, I wanted it again.
I spread my legs wider, scooted forward until I was sitting at the very edge of the counter, then took him in my hand and guided him forward. We both watched, rapt, as he slid in one slow inch at a time on a low, animal groan.
“All right?” he asked in a voice twisted with desire. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
A bead of sweat slid down the center of his forehead. He was working hard, if only at constraining himself.
“I’m fine.” I closed my eyes, allowing my body to adjust to his size. But it had been a long time. This would take a second.
“Ces.”
My eyes opened to find his blues focused on me with a heady mix of concern and desire.
“You’re going to have to give me a bit more than that,” he said.
Dazedly, I turned my face toward him. “Kiss me, Xavi.”
Slowly, his mouth turned up, farther and farther, until, at last, his bright white teeth were on display. A full, glowing smile that lit up the dim room. And it was all for me.
“With fucking pleasure.”
On another groan, our mouths collided. His lips massaged mine, tongue dancing through my mouth, devouring me whole like he was a starving man. Slowly, he started to move, seating himself completely before pulling out, allowing me a break before pressing slowly back in. It wasn’t until I grasped for his naked ass, eager to feel its rhythm, that he really started to move. Home, home, and home again, shaking our bodies, the counter, the very earth we stood on, all without breaking the magic our mouths were making.
“Xavi,” I gasped against his lips. “Oh, God. Oh God, I’m gonna—”
He broke away suddenly, making a mad grab for my chin and yanking it up.
“Look at me,” he ordered. “Look at me when you come, Francesca. Look at me when I come for you.”
And then he slid home once more on a deep, powerful thrust. I began to shake as I gripped the counter, arching back so he could see all of me quivering there just for him. I yelped as one spasm flew through me, then another, then another, until they crashed together at my core, around him.
“Fuck! Francesca!” he crowed as he surged forward, again and again, every muscle in his big body tensed and rigid as he came.
But through it all, I did as he asked. I looked at him while he looked at me. And I could see in his eyes every decibel of want and fear reverberating deeply through my soul. I could feel through every vibration the clash of duty and vice.
And truly, nothing had ever felt better.