Page 119 of Playing with Fire

Xavier collapsed forward onto my chest, his breath coming in harsh pants against my neck. For a moment, we stayed like that, connected in the most intimate way, both trying to catch our breath.

"Fuck," I finally managed, my hands coming up to rest on his hips. "That was... Jesus, X."

"Mmm," he hummed against my skin, sounding incredibly pleased with himself. "Not bad for a guy who thought he was asexual for twenty-two years."

A surprised laugh escaped me. "Not bad? That was fucking incredible and you know it."

He lifted his head just enough to look at me, a rare, genuine smile on his lips. "I do know it. You're so fucking responsive when I ride you. Always so desperate to please."

I flushed, knowing he was right. No matter how our bodies were positioned, he always maintained complete control. Could make me beg and plead with just a word or a look. The thought sent another jolt of heat through me.

I grabbed the tissues we kept beside the bed and hastily cleaned us up, disposing of the condom before glancing at the clock. It was one in the afternoon. I still had reports to file and work to plan, but I wasn’t quite ready to get back to it. Not yet.

"Can I hold you for a bit?" I asked, stretching back out on the bed.

"Yeah. That's... that would be good."

He shifted slightly, letting me pull his head to my chest. I wrapped my arms around him, one hand tracing patterns along his spine while the other tangled in his hair.

"We should talk about tomorrow," I said finally, once I could think straight again. "What to expect from my parents."

"How do you feel about seeing them again?" Xavier's question cut straight to the heart of what I'd been avoiding.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to face the tangle of emotions I'd been suppressing. "Scared. Hopeful. Angry. Grateful." I opened my eyes, turning slightly to see his face. "They rejected who I am, Xavier. They chose their religion over their own son. That damage doesn't just disappear because they finally decided to respond to a message."

"No," he agreed, his expression thoughtful. "But people can change. Or at least, they can learn to accept what they can't change."

The observation surprised me, coming from someone as absolute in his judgments as Xavier typically was. "You think they've changed?"

"I think they reached out," he replied. "That's already different from three years ago. But their potential for change doesn't obligate you to anything, Leo. You set the boundaries. You decide what relationship you want with them, if any."

His support warmed me more deeply than any physical touch could have. "And what about us? Do I tell them about you? About what we are to each other?"

Xavier's expression shifted to something territorial and determined. "I'll be sitting right beside you during the call. They'll draw their own conclusions." His hand settled on my hip. "But yes, if they ask directly, you tell them the truth. That you're mine. That we belong to each other. That I'd burn the world to ashes for you." His voice dropped lower, that dangerous edge returning. "Make sure they understand that if they hurt you again, they answer to me. And I'm far less forgiving than you are."

The conviction in his voice steadied me. "And if they can't accept it? Accept us?"

"Then we end the call and move on with our lives." Xavier's answer was immediate and absolute. "Your birth family might be important to you, Leo. I understand that. But they don't get to dictate who you are or who you love."

A giddy sort of warmth filled my chest and I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that you love me.”

His hands framed my face, holding me with that balance of possession and care that defined everything between us. "I love you, Leo. Not just as something that belongs to me, though you do. Not just as someone who submits to me, though you do that beautifully." His thumbs traced my cheekbones, his gaze never leaving mine. "I love you as the person who walked into fire for me. Who sees all of me and stays anyway. Who challenges me and grounds me and makes me question everything I thought I knew about myself."

His grip tightened, fingers pressing into my skin. "You're mine in every way that matters. You'll continue to be mine long after this call with your parents, no matter what they say or think. That's non-negotiable."

The declaration left me breathless. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his, our breath mingling in the small space between us. "I love you too," I whispered. "Te amo."

His lips met mine, the kiss both gentle and demanding, a perfect reflection of the man himself. When he pulled back, his eyes held that intensity that still made my heart race.

"Whatever happens tomorrow," he said, "remember that. You are loved. You are wanted. You are exactly where you belong."

I nodded, the certainty of his words washing away the last of my anxiety about tomorrow's call. Whatever my parents had to say, however they reacted to seeing me again, to meeting Xavier, I had this. This certainty. This belonging. This love that had been forged in fire, tested by blood, and emerged stronger than either of us had imagined possible.

I traced the fresh scars on his chest, thinking of the fire that had nearly taken us both. "Speaking of fire..." I hesitated, then pressed on. "Once we're both fully healed, I've been thinking about exploring more of what you mentioned before. The fire play."

Xavier went completely still, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost black. "Are you sure you want that?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "I want to understand every part of you."

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