Page 28 of Damaged Hearts

“It’s muddy water at best. Plus, my job before all of this was at a coffee shop. Drinking coffee should be a pleasure, not a chore.”

“The same should go for sex,” he mutters as he resumes his kisses leading around my wrist, but I sense the condescension in his words.

“What do you mean by that?”

He rolls his striking eyes before frowning. “The point of sex is pleasure and yet our first time I got the feeling you’d never experienced an orgasm before.”

Well, shit. I’ve never felt more called out in my life. Sure, I’ve orgasmed before him, but only by myself. Dell never cared about my pleasure and it took me until our break up to realize how much he didn’t care about me. He was disgusted by the thought of going down on me and yet Xander spent half an hour down there having the time of his life making me orgasm over, and over again.

“That’s not true,” I deflect.

“You haven’t orgasmed during sex though, have you? I bet you’ve only used your fingers to get yourself off,” he groans, his eyes darkening with lust.

Goddamn it. I swear, sometimes I hate how perceptive he is.

“Some people care about the enjoyment of others. Some people don’t.” I hope that answers his question and he drops this subject. It’s so embarrassing.

Xander moves over my body, and kisses down my neck as he presses his throbbing cock against my thigh. “His loss. I’ve never witnessed anything hotter than you screaming and writhing for me when you orgasm. Just the thought of it makes me need your tight pussy again.”

He really knows how to turn a conversation in his favor.

“Xander—”

He lifts my leg over his hip and presses his cock inside me, grunting once he’s fully seated inside me.

I have the distinct feeling that Xander doesn’t fully comprehend what consent is or the different forms of consent, which I’m not surprised by given how he’s grown up and the types of people he’s been around his whole life.

I could say no right now and I know he’d stop, but the thing is I don’t want him to stop. I like that he takes what he wants and doesn’t ask for forgiveness, but it’s sad to see that he thinks I’m consenting unless I actually say the word no.

The wonderful thing about Xander is I know he would never hurt me, he wants me to feel pleasure when we’re together, and he cares about me.

That’s way more than I could ever say for Dell, so I’ll take the misguided sense of consent as long as I can have Xander.

CHAPTER12

LAURA

When we fall asleep, I'm laying on Xander, but a few hours later, I wake to the sound of the shower running.

I'm alone in his bed and the room still smells like an orgy happened here. I blush as the memory of last night through to this morning comes back to me.

Roxy was right. Xander is an animal in bed. That man did things to my body I don't want the Lord to know about. I've always been easily embarrassed when it comes to sex, but last night I had no problem telling Xander how bad I wanted him at all. I can't believe I told him that I touch myself thinking about him.

I move out of bed and rub my tender muscles before seeking out clothes. I don't feel like getting fully dressed yet so I grab a fresh pair of panties and Xander's shirt from last night.

I'd love to bottle up his scent and spray myself with it so I always smell like him. It's a truly addicting aroma.

I leave the bedroom and get to work on breakfast and coffee. I finish the eggs and bacon moments before I feel Xander's warm arms envelop me, like a heated security blanket. His lips dance across my neck, his scruff tickling the path he takes.

"You're a goddess, darling," he whispers as I reach behind me, running my fingers through his hair.

"Xander," I moan his name.

Dell never called me pretty, beautiful, or even just cute, but to Xander, I'm a goddess. Anytime Dell spent the night at my apartment, he would just wake up, eat breakfast, then leave. There was never any of this loving behavior like what Xander is doing.

Why the hell was I so blind?

I can't focus on making coffee with Xander doing this, touching me and kissing my neck. The fire between my thighs increases in intensity as his fingers trail down my body and his hand goes under the shirt, sneaking into my panties. I moan when his thumb finds my clit and my brain short-circuits.

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