Page 51 of Lassoed Love

“To k-kiss me? Not like you haven’t done it before,” I stammer, feeling the effect he has on me.

“That was different, Isla. I wasn’t thinking much then,” he confesses.

“And what are you thinking now?”

“That I want to fucking devour you.” Seconds pass. “All I need is a yes,” he says, closing the gap, his breath brushing over my face.

“Is that what you want?” I place my hand on his thigh, which now touches mine.Fuck it.

“Ye—” I’m cut off as he swiftly pulls me closer, one hand behind my neck, slamming his mouth against mine. My body melts against his, sparks flying, butterflies erupting inside my stomach like fireworks.

The tip of his tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entrance,and I willingly allow it. A soft whimper escapes me, its volume echoing in the silent night, almost deafening. This only fuels his desire, and he kisses me hard. Aggressively—the kind that leaves no room for restraint.

Xavier wraps both arms around my waist with a possessive grip. With a sudden, commanding movement, he pulls me from beside him, effortlessly lifting me onto his lap. Now, I find myself straddling his hips, the closeness and the heightened connection intensifying our shared desire.

As our kiss deepens, desire surges between us, and Xavier's grip tightens on my waist. His tongue intertwines with mine in a fervent dance. Moving with purpose, his hands trail down my waist, boldly cupping my ass through the dress, which has now ridden up to my thighs. The cool breeze underneath adds a contrasting sensation to the warmth spreading at my core.

Suppressing his groan in our entwined mouths, I quicken my breath as he kneads my ass, urging me to grind against him in his lap. Xavier takes my bottom lip into his mouth, biting down with a primal intensity, a low and deep growl escaping him. I moan in satisfaction, my hands leaving his shoulders to lock behind his head, surrendering to the intoxicating connection we share.

His breath catches, a low “Fuck” escaping him as I continue to grind down onto him, feeling the impressive bulge in his pants. I've never been kissed like this in my life, I think to myself, swept away by the intensity of the moment.

Xavier’s left hand traces an electrifying path up the front of mybody, curving over my waist before confidently seizing my breast with a firm grip, eliciting a soft whimper from me. He plants a series of kisses along my jaw, then firmly grips my jaw, tilting it to the side for better access to my neck. He kisses and sucks on the sensitive skin, all the while continuing to sensually massage my breast.

Locking his gaze with mine, Xavier silently poses a question, seeking permission to go further. Understanding the unspoken request, I nod. He grabs the front of my dress, the shirred fabric scrunching underneath his grasp before he pulls it down, freeing my breast from the confines of my bra. Xavier cups my breast, his touch gentle yet possessive, his thumb tracing teasing circles around my nipple. Leaning down, he takes the puckered bud between his lips, the warmth of his mouth nearly melting me. He twirls and flicks my nipple with the tip of his tongue, emitting a loud groan against my skin. His gaze, now fixed on my exposed bust, is filled with awe as he mutters, “Fuuck me, Isla. These tits are perfect.” I whimper, running my hands through the long locks of hair at his nape.

Just as Xavier snakes his hand back up behind me, grasping my hair and pulling my head back, moving over to the other side to return the favour, my phone rings in my bag, abruptly disrupting the heated moment. I can't help but wonder who might be calling. The ringing stops, leaving a brief uncertainty—perhaps it wasn't important, or just a random butt dial?

I begin grinding over his rock-hard bulge, the pressure building down at my core. I can feel the wet spot forming on his pants, evidence of my arousal, but in this state, I’m too consumed to care.Just as we get back into the rhythm, my phone rings again.

What the fuck, I think, frustration creeping in.

22

“You gonna get that, Doc?” Her phone has rung now for the second time, interrupting this heated moment.

The night has been a rollercoaster of desire and anticipation between Isla and me. The cool breeze, now picking up, feels amazing against my skin, which is practically burning up from the intense arousal. My dick has been painfully hard in my pants ever since we left her place. If this keeps up, I’ll probably need to take care of that soon, avoiding a dreaded case of blue balls. That shit’s fucked up.

Isla’s on top of me, grinding so intensely that it feels like I could combust any second.Not helping the matter.

To distract myself, I pull on her hair, tilting her backward as I continue to twirl my tongue around her other nipple, pulling at it between my teeth before sucking on it.

“That’s the second time it’s rung now.” My mouth releases her nipple with a ‘pop’ as I move back to her neck, biting down gently.

Isla releases a frustrated sigh and reluctantly moves off of me to grab her phone from her bag. The moment she pulls it out, her face falls entirely, and I'm instantly alert. “What’s wrong?” I question, myconcern evident.

She sits back on her calves and stares at her phone screen before putting it to her ear. Is she calling someone? When the person she's trying to reach doesn't answer, she exclaims, “Shit. Shit.”

Concern now etches my face as I ask the question again, a bit more forceful than before, “Isla! What the fuck is wrong?”

She looks up at me, and my heart lurches on the spot. Confusion, pain, and sadness mar her beautiful features. “My dad, he rang me twice…” she says, frantically trying to call him back. “H-he’s, he’s not answering, Xavier. What if something happened?”

Tears now glisten in her eyes, reflecting off the night sky. Don’t cry,please, I silently beg. I’m not sure what I’ll do if she does. The thought of her being upset infuriates me.Fuck, what is wrong with me?

She abruptly continues, “I need to see him. I need to go over there, Xav. I’m so sorry. This has all been so lovely. I’m sorry to cut thi—”

I cut her off before she can continue, “Isla, please. You don’t have to apologise. I’ll drive you,” I say, moving to start packing everything up—now a mess from us fooling around. Isla starts to help, but I place a hand on hers and add, “Go wait in the car. I got this, love.”

After securing everything in the car, I close up the tray, circle around, and slide into the driver’s seat.

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