Page 17 of Two days, One Pucking Night

I close my eyes and inhale deeply. The scent of his cologne hits my nose. I savor it. Storing it in the small memory bank I’ve created specifically for him in my subconscious. When I open my eyes, I find his gaze on me—warm, rich, ravenous.

He eliminates the space between us, tilting my stool around so the entirety of my body is turned in his direction.

His gaze falls to my lips, and heat pools between my legs. His eyes darken. This time, instead of trying to fight whatever this is between us, I surrender. Giving myself permission to seize the moment.

“Beautiful.”

One simple word, yet the weight of it burns against my skin. It is a silent plea. A submission. A prayer raised on an altar before the ceremony.

Xavier’s lips graze mine, and I realize I am the offering. A burnt, fragrant offering. A sacrificial lamb. A pleasing aroma, for his atonement and adoration.

5

XAVIER

“I’m not supposed to touch you,” I breathe, running my fingers along her nose, brows, and lips, mapping the outline of my name with the freckles on her face.

Sofia’s eyes are closed, and her breath comes out in short, shallow gasps. “Do you do everything you're told?”

The question tugs at some subconscious part of my mind. No, I don’t. And I’ve gotten into some shit because of that. I want to respond, but I know this moment is different from the issue that broke my family apart.

“No,” I answer frankly.

Yet the truth remains between us—I shouldn’t be here right now, doing this with her in her brother’s extended home. Everything about this is wrong. But her scent, her warmth, the evident desire in her eyes earlier, doesn’t feel wrong. It feels good. And I haven’t felt good in a long while. Not the good that involves masking my emotions or burying myself deep inside another pair of legs. But the good that comes naturally. The good that fills my chest when she smiles. The good that elevates my heartbeat from her nearness. That makes my skin tingle from a single touch. The good I feel when I spend time in her presence and contentment in her silence. That is Sofia Brookes.

I’m unsure if I deserve that good, but I want it. I want her. I want to taste her. I want to hold and sully her for every other man who comes after me.

With my knees, I open her legs on the stool, giving me more access to her. Her skin is soft. Her body is warm, and her lips satiny to the touch. I bury my head in her neck, kissing, licking, sucking, and devouring her flesh.

Sofia pulls her hair to the side, giving me more access to her. “Yes, that feels so good.”

My hands move to explore her body. The green camisole top and shorts frame her body so well I feel my dick stir in my pants, begging to be let out. “How can I deny you when you look and feel this good, princess.”

I tear the flimsy camisole in the middle. Her breasts spill out. “I need you naked.”

Sofia gasps, pinning me with a stare.

“I’ll buy you another one,” I note, peeling the remaining fabric from her body.

Before she can argue, I lower my head and suck on her breast. Alternating from one to the other, groaning as her nipples pebble in my mouth.

“Why is your skin so soft?” I can’t help but grunt. Every part of her is velvety smooth, soft, without blemish.

“More, Xavier. More.” Sofia runs her hands through my hair. Her eyes fill with heat, reflective of the same heat in mine.

She arches her head back, and the golden flecks in her hazel eyes shine in that familiar way Zayn’s do when he’s in deep thought, and the sight of it knocks me from my lust-filled haze. I pull back and step away from her.

“Fuck, Sofia.” I run my hands through my hair and begin to pace.

Sofia is unphased. Her legs are open, her skin flush, eyes glazed.

“This …” I point to the space between us. “This can’t happen. I can’t break Zayn’s trust.”

“You’re not,” she says with an assured confidence I don’t feel.

“Sofia,” I groan.

She rises from the stool and eliminates the space between us, palming my dick through my pants.

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