Page 114 of Crossing the Line
He sucked in a sharp breath, and she felt the tension radiate off of him. She was going to take Xavier Saint’s formidable control and shred it. Waverly gripped his shaft by the root and without preamble slid her mouth over the blunt head. His gasp turned to a groan of agony when he hit the back of her throat.
Waverly moaned, and the vibration of it had him fisting his hands in her hair. She drew back, stroking with one hand while her other palmed his balls, tugging and rolling.
Again, she slicked her mouth over him, and this time, his hips met her with a shallow thrust. His hands weren’t gentle in her hair, and she matched his violence with her mouth. She slicked her tongue over him and dragged lightly with her teeth. The growl that escaped him was no longer human.
Again and again, Waverly took his steely length to the back of her throat, pumping him from root to tip with her hand. She could taste him, that salty sample of what was to come, and she moaned again. He was moving for her now, and he swelled, growing impossibly thicker when she sucked at him gently.
“God, yes, Angel. Just like that.” His murmured words were labored, desperate, and nothing in her life had ever been such a turn on to Waverly.
She gripped him hard, stroked faster, and was rewarded with the low animal sound from deep within his chest.
“Angel, you’re making me—”
She didn’t even have time to prepare because he was coming with a violence that had his thighs trembling against her. She swallowed desperately over and over again, wanting to destroy him the way he so often destroyed her. Xavier was out of his mind with pleasure as he worked his cock in and out of her willing mouth. He didn’t start breathing until she milked the last drops of his release from him. Then his breath came in shuddering groans.
His knees buckled, but he caught himself before dragging her to her feet. He rested his forehead on hers and struggled to get his breath back. Even spent, his penis remained hard against her belly.
“Jesus, Waverly. What did you do to me?”
“Destroyed you. Just a little bit. I wanted to make sure you knew what it felt like.”
“Angel, you destroy me every time. Don’t ever think that you don’t.”
He let his hands roam over her back and sides, and she felt him twitch against her.
“You can’t be serious, X. You can’t have anything left after that,” she said in wonder.
“I’m never done with you, Angel. Remember that.” And on that threat, his hand found its way under her skirt. When he found her bare, she heard the rumble of approval from deep in his chest. “I’ll always want you again, Waverly. Always.” His fingers dipped into the slick folds, and it was her turn to sag against the wall. He worked them in and out, gently at first and then building up to speed. He was driving her insane with need.
“Are you ready for me, baby?”
“God, yes, X. Please,” she begged. Then he was lifting her in his arms and when he pressed her against the wall and entered her on one swift thrust, she was his.
There was no time or need for finesse. They were two joined as one racing to the finish. Racing to salvation. And as the stone bit into her back, and Xavier filled her from the front, Waverly felt a door in her fly open.
He gripped her hips and squeezed. With just the slightest shift in angle, she was coming on him, around him, over him. The orgasm raced up and detonated inside her. He covered her mouth with his, swallowing her screams, and on the next thrust, poured himself into her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Their international honeymoon ended somewhere over Colorado.
“So what’s new?” Waverly asked lazily as she flipped through the pages of a glossy magazine.
The drone of the plane’s engines exacerbated the extended silence. She looked up and found Xavier staring at her over his laptop. His expression was unreadable. He’d been in a crappy mood the entire flight, spending most of it on his laptop or muttering into a phone. The closer they got to home, the stronger Waverly’s sense of impending doom.
Even though her return was cloaked in secrecy, she felt like she was flying back into a trap. The studio was throwing a splashy party for the cast and crew tonight on the strip in L.A.: a kind of “thanks for making us a ton of money” thing to make up for the premiere and after party that hadn’t happened. Waverly’s presence had been very firmly required by the higher ups.
Xavier was pissed at her for not saying no, and he was pissed at the studio for not taking into consideration the logistical hell of protecting Waverly in a nightclub on a Friday night in downtown L.A.
He’d worked his very fine ass off to extract a promise from the studio that their publicity team would announce her much anticipated return for the following day and express Waverly’s regrets for missing the festivities. If Ganim didn’t know Waverly had returned, it should buy her a few precious hours. At least until all the gossip sites caught her at the club. Even so, the FBI and local cops would have undercovers stationed in the club to be on the safe side.
“You mean with the disaster that’s waiting for us in L.A.?” Xavier asked, heavy on the sarcasm.
He was more pissed than she’d realized.
“Yes. What’s happening in my life that I need to know about?” she asked pointedly.
“Gee, I’m sorry. I thought you going out clubbing tonight meant you didn’t give a shit about your security.”
