Page 95 of Crossing the Line
Waverly’s chest rose and fell against his as she tried to catch her breath. Her breasts were crushed against him, beaded wet from the ocean. When she refused to look at him, he used his free hand to circle her neck, his thumb and finger holding her jaw.
She let her eyelids flutter open and stared up at him through watery eyes.
“Don’t ever run away from me again.” The harsh words were accompanied by a squeeze around her neck. “Do you understand me?”
When she didn’t answer fast enough, Xavier squeezed harder. “Answer me, Waverly,” he growled.
“I won’t,” she whispered.
“You won’t what?”
“I won’t run away again,” she gasped against the pressure of his grip.
“He’s killed, Angel. I can’t prove it yet, but I will. Two women are dead, and I’m not going to let you be next. So you willneverdo this again.”
She hadn’t been thinking of murder and danger. She’d only been thinking of the slow death her old life would lead to. The slow, sad death of the unfulfilled. And here was the jailer to return her to that life.
But there was something besides anger in him. A primal drive to claim. He was achingly hard against her. She could feel every inch of his erection as it pressed against the juncture of her thighs. Their flesh was separated by only two thin, wet layers of bathing suit.
He shifted just an inch, and the pressure of his shaft against her delicate lips had her instinctively moaning. She instinctively lifted her knees and gasped. He moved again, this time a slow glide against her bikini that parted those lips through the fabric as the broad head of his cock moved deeper between her thighs.
She couldn’t tell if it was an exquisite reward or torture. Waverly only knew that she wanted more of it, more heat, more friction. She wanted to feel him inside her again, filling her once more.
“Xavier.” She whispered his name on a plea, a prayer.
He clamped a hand over her mouth. His breath was still coming in short pulls, but she knew it wasn’t from exertion now. No, this was something baser. The need to take and to brand. The need to drive himself into her waiting, wet flesh. She could see the pulse thunder at the base of his throat, the war behind his eyes.
She did the only thing she could and arched against him, pressing herself to his hard-on, flattening her breasts against his chest.
On a sound that was barely human, Xavier tore his gaze away from her face. Her bikini top hadn’t been made for running, or wrestling for that matter, and her right breast had burst its way free. Her bare nipple brushed his chest, perking against the smattering of chest hair she’d found so fascinating.
Her breath came out on a shaky sigh. How could he fight it when he already knew what it felt like? Was his control really that powerful that he could deny himself what they both craved?
It wasn’t. She read it in the way he looked at her. His desire for control and his need for her were wrapped up in one undeniable urge.
“Take me, Xavier.”
The words broke him, shattering his restraint and freeing the caged beast.
Without releasing her hands, Xavier dove down and took that straining nipple into his mouth. The heat, the surprising suction of it had her gasping. His tongue laved the peak until her breast felt heavy with need, her nipple begged for more. When he closed his lips over it and began to suck, Waverly arched hard against him and was rewarded with a shallow thrust of his cock between her legs.
He brushed aside the useless cup covering her other breast and plumped the flesh with his palm. The sound that escaped him was somewhere between a purr and a groan. And when his mouth settled over that nipple, his hand returned to the first breast, tugging and squeezing at the tip. He suckled with an intensity that had Waverly seeing a black sky of stars behind her closed eyes. She felt his need as he devoured her breasts in a relentless assault.
Her own desire skyrocketed when she opened her eyes and watched him worship her nipple with his slavish mouth. Deep pulls on each peak were echoed between her legs. She fought against the grip he had on her wrists, wanting to touch him, to taste him. But he held her still and licked his way back and forth over her straining tips, the cool night air teasing the one that wasn’t in his warm prison.
“X,” she gasped. She was so close already, and all he’d done was touch her breasts. She was vaguely aware that a desire like this was dangerous. But she didn’t care. She didn’t want safe now. She wanted Xavier. She wanted this prison of lust. He slammed his hips against hers, thrusting again at the opening between her legs that wept for him. And through the layers of clothing, still wanting more, Waverly came. It was a hard, brutal release that ripped through her before she was ready. Her entire body tensed under Xavier’s, forcing more of her breast into his mouth as she fought the tremors.
He groaned against her and dragged his hand down over her stomach to her hip. With one hard tug, he’d untied the string of her bikini bottom. Still pinning her, still feeding on her, he rose to his knees. He yanked away the material that hid her from him and with the same swift movement, freed his straining cock from the confines of his shorts.
He released her breast with a pop and levered himself over her. He fisted his erection with his free hand and Waverly gaped. He was even bigger than she remembered. He dipped the head through her spread center, brushing her still shuddering clit and lower to slide through the juices at her opening and back again.
The broad crown of him was slicked in moisture, and she saw a bead of it bleed from the slit. He stroked himself from root to tip, watching her. Waverly’s breath was coming in gasps. She was so desperate to be filled she was afraid she’d black out from need.
No,she thought, taking a shaky breath.She would remember this forever.
He was stroking himself with barely restrained violence, staring at her. There was nothing left of the man that had teased her, the man who had tenderly held her and wiped away her tears. He’d been replaced with a primal warrior who had one goal, one desire. Taking her.
She was hypnotized by the way he stared at her. Anger, hot and primitive, poured off of him.Was he punishing her or himself?she wondered as still he made no move to enter her.
