Page 176 of The Keeper

“I love you,” I said in a low, husky tone. “I love you so much I could burst. You’ve changed me. You make me feel whole again.”

He unzipped his pants and lowered his boxer briefs enough to free his rigid cock. “What else?”

“I hated being without you.” Tears pooled in my eyes. Surprising, since I’d cried an ocean on his shoulder already. “It felt like half of my heart was ripped out of me.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist when he lifted me. His body shivered when his hard length pressed against my wet opening.

“Tori,” he said hoarsely. “I love you. You make me come apart in the best way. And then you put me back together and make me feel more like myself than I could ever dare to imagine.”

He kissed me at the same moment he thrust inside me. Our mouths and bodies joining in one motion. One perfect union. I’d always assumed my first time having sex with someone in public would be some sweaty, dirty, salacious experience.

I could not have been more wrong. This felt almost sacred.

He rocked himself into me harder and deeper, filling me and owning me. All the while, he kissed and softly bit into the delicate slope between my neck and shoulder, apologizing and praising me with every thrust.

You’re my world…and please forgive me…and let me love you forever.

My head fell back into the ivy leaves as I moved my hips in rhythm with him.

“Look at me, Tori.”

I clenched around him, eliciting a low groan. He said my name in that voice. The one I never wanted to stop hearing.

Our eyes locked. Blue to green. Sky to ground. Heaven to earth.

I wrapped my arms around him, spearing my fingers into his hair.

And now my body was nothing but sensation. Nothing but energy. Nothing but the feel of Xavier inside me and his body caged around me. His sharp breaths. His grunts and moans. His steady, deep pounding.

When his fingers roughly massaged my clit, I fell apart immediately. Writhing and coming and whispering I love you into the night air.

He rode through my release, spilling into me in long, hot pulses. My hands twisted in his jacket, holding him close as our bodies came down together. Shaky and sated and whole. His warm breath tickled my throat when he nuzzled into me. I responded by squeezing my legs tighter around his waist.

He kissed me slow and gentle and deep.

“Dirty princess,” he spoke on my lips. “Do you accept this apology?”

I rested my elbows on his shoulders, running my hands through his hair. “I do. Can’t wait to see what the other ones look like.”

A full smile. Full and dimpled and crooked and happy.

“You keep breaking your policy for me.”

“I have a new policy now.”

“Oh?” An eyebrow arched. “Tell me.”

“It’s a pretty strict one,” I warned. “No deviations this time.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Had to be done.”

The silky, softness of his tongue slipped through my lips for a sweet, tender kiss. “I guess you should tell me the bad news,” he said.

“The only professional athletes I date are British goalkeepers with dirty mouths and tattoos, crooked smiles and dimples, and sapphire eyes that see past all my barriers and love me for everything I am. Know anyone like that?”

With a devilish grin, he hovered his mouth over mine. “Maybe.”

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