31
Somehow, I twisted around and managed to unlock the door, even with his enormous body pressed against me. But as soon as the door was opened, Xavier swept me up princess-style in what I was starting to consider his trademark move.
“Let someone carry you for once,” he said as he kicked the door shut, then turned for the stairs.
Up we went, mouths fused until, finally, I was set on my feet once more on the floor of the landing. Xavier’s palms slid up my neck to frame my face.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, eyes drifting over my nose, cheeks, lips. “So perfect.”
“I’m not perfect,” I protested weakly.
His hands slid back down over my neck and shoulders, taking with them my shawl and the thin straps of my red dress. Down they went, over my arms, my hips, until I stood in front of him in nothing but my underwear and shoes.
Xavier’s full mouth hung slightly open, like a starving man at a buffet.
“I don’t think you could ever convince me of that,” he said, then swept me up once more and turned to lay me gently on my bed.
I watched, transfixed, as he made quick work of his shirt and jacket, tossing them carelessly onto the chair next to us. The moonlight streaming through my small window cast a silvery halo over his lanky form, softening the sharp lines of his chest, arms, and shoulders. The tattoos curving up and down his right arm glowed, but not so much as his eyes as he looked down at me.
Love. That was what I saw there. Lust, desire, yearning—that too. But all of it was wrapped in pure, unadulterated love I’d never received from anyone. Not even my family.
I reached up. “Don’t leave me here alone.”
“Never,” he promised as he kneeled on the floor beside me. “I’ll never leave you or her again.”
He pressed kisses along around my waist, across the ridges of my hip bones, and lingering over the softer part of my stomach, the place that no matter how many crunches I did, no matter how many aerobics classes I taught, would never again be perfectly flat.
“I wish I could have seen her here,” he said, hands cupping a nonexistent bump just under my navel.
I weaved my fingers into his hair, luxuriating in its silky softness. “I wanted you here. Xavi, I’m so sorry—”
“Shh. I know.”
He rested his chin on my hip and looked up at me. For a moment, we didn’t speak. I trusted he could see the regret in my eyes, know the pain I still felt over stealing that part—or any part—of her life from him, even if it’s what I believed was necessary at the time. In his face, however, I only saw forgiveness and love. The knowledge that if we were to continue this path together, there could only be trust between us. And that it was time to let the past go.
I relaxed and smiled. And to my utter delight, he smiled back, shining the light of his joy over both of us before he turned his head and pressed his cheek to my stomach. Then he continued delivering kisses down my body, taking my underwear with him until I lay naked on the bed.
“I love this,” he whispered as his lips feathered over my sensitive skin. “And this.” Gently, his hands pushed my legs apart. “And this.”
His mouth landed on my clit, locating that most sensitive part of me. I arched naturally into his touch, allowing him to slip his hands under my bottom and hold me up to his lapping tongue.
“Xavi,” I gasped.
“Mmm,” he hummed, sending a delicious vibration through me while he worked.
My thighs clenched around the breadth of his shoulders. His hair fell forward, tickling the insides of my thighs while his hand teased the wet entrance that was aching for him—any part of him.
His finger dipped inside, soon joined by another. Curled within me. And pressed.
I started to shake.
“Xavi, please,” I begged, though I couldn’t have said for what. “Please, I can’t…”
“Yes, you can,” he grumbled before nipping me lightly between his lips. “Come for me, Ces. Show me how much you want me.”
Three fingers slipped inside, stretching, rubbing, offering the delicious friction that, combined with his mouth, was quickly my undoing.
My fingers threaded into his hair, and I yanked. Hard. My eyes shut tightly, and automatically, my mind searched for something, anything, to latch on to. A character. A story. Erotic or not, but anything that could help me toward that final destination.