Page 62 of Passed Ball

"No," I whine, my mouth dropping open as he pushes the soaked material inside me. I have no doubt he could get me off like this, but it's not what I want.

His shoulders push me wider, giving him more access as he sucks and nibbles through the fabric.

"Xavier, I need you."

"Need me where, sweetheart? Use that perfect mouth to tell me how I can make this good for you."

"Fuck me with your tongue. I want your mouth on me."

"Say please."

I push up on my elbows, staring him down. His red strands are darker, water from the shower still clinging to them. He looks like a god, propped up between my legs, the muscles and tendons in his shoulders straining. My chest heaves with a mix of annoyance and ample lust.

"If you don't eat me out and make me come all over your stupidly handsome face right this second, I might die. And listen carefully when I tell you, I have no qualms about taking you with me since this is all your fault."

He shifts on the couch and has the audacity to smirk as he tells me, "I think I came in my pants again."

"Seriously?" The question is stolen right from my throat when he hooks my underwear to the side and licks a hot stripe up my center. The cry he forces from me when the tip of his tongue spears me on the second pass is feral--foreign to my ears because no one's ever owned my body the way he does. He doesn't go slowly or ease me into it, he presses his face against me and eats like a man who can't be sated.

"It's a crime that I still don't have you naked, but I can't tear myself away from this sweet pussy long enough to care."

It's erotic, dirty, everything I never thought it could be. He whimpers against my core like having me on his tongue still isn't enough as he feasts on me, making wet sucking noises that only make this all hotter. Then he sucks my clit into his mouth and the world comes into sharp focus.

Two fingers pump inside me, another two reaching up to pinch my pebbled nipple. He's everywhere all at once.

"Don't stop." Twisting my fingers in his hair I hold him to me, rocking against him shamelessly.

"There you go. Take," he commands, curling his fingers and stroking me. My thighs shake, need coiling down my spine so urgently that I'm afraid when I break apart it will be a permanent fracturing of my body.

"Take it all." Xavier hums again, his final warning, before he fastens his lips harshly over my clit.

Pleasure bursts from me. It's an exorcism of sorts. It washes over my limbs, pulses of ecstasy rocking through them, taking those last remaining pieces of the old Vivienne with them.

For years I've forged a life--a future that suits me, where I'm in charge. Every aspect of my life has been carefully crafted to ensure I don't lose myself. Professionally. With my family. Romantically. But sexually, I've held onto the control so tightly that I've never let anyone close enough for a connection. This man might not realize it, but Xavier is teaching me to reclaim my power one orgasm at a time.

With the utmost care, he fixes my ruined underwear in place and lets his head fall to my stomach. His pulse races nearly as fast as mine against my soft belly. Oxygen and blood slowly return to my brain, but the silence between us is easy, peaceful. There's no rush to talk. Instead, I sift my fingers through his messy hair, trying to fix the damage my hands caused as it dried.

He's the first to speak. "Nothing compares to the sight of you uninhibited, claiming the pleasure you deserve. You're a damn masterpiece with my name pouring out of your mouth."

My voice is hoarse when I joke, "This praise kink you're giving me is going to make it impossible for me to move on when this is over."

He lifts his head, icy blues devoid of amusement at my lighthearted comment. "That's not something I want to think about."

Yeah, I don't particularly like the idea of him with anyone else either. It stings in a way I don't expect. "That's what we agreed to, right?"

He nods, his hand drawing circles on my stomach. "We need another rule. No talking about the after."

"Like ever?"

"Ever. I'd rather believe I've ruined you for all men. Let me live with my delusion."

I hold out my pinky finger, waiting. He stares at it. "Never made a pinky promise?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe we should spit on it?" He jokes. "My childhood wasn't the kind filled with Eskimo kisses and pinky promises." He hooks my little finger, pulling it to his mouth and sealing it with a kiss. "It was more beer bottles thrown at the wall and moldy bread."

I knew things were bad, but I didn't know they were that bad.

"Don't give me that look." It's a quiet plea. "I got out in one piece and I've made a pretty good life for myself. Without my past, I wouldn't be the dad that I am."

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