Page 66 of Framed

My brain knew that but it was like my body had a mind of its own whenever it came to Xavier.

He bent closer. I could’ve sworn I felt his lips, though they never touched my skin. They hovered mere inches from my bare throat. “Mmhm,” he said, throaty and vibrating.

I bit my bottom lip to keep an involuntary sound from escaping.Think about the blonde,I chanted in my head. I hoped it would douse my arousal like a cold bucket of water, but it was no use. Every part of my body was burning hot like an inferno. Ready to combust at the simplest touch.

“I think you’re lying,” he said. “I think youknewI’d be watching.”

As twisted as it was, he was right. I’d let Kane hold my hand the entire movie. Was it really because I was interested in Kane?Or did I just know Xavier would be there, eventually.Not because he’d been ordered to come, but because for whatever reason, he didn’t trust Kane. Not around me.

Deep down, I wanted to prove to him that I could move on. That he didn’t own me. Even I knew he always would.

“I think you need to be taught a lesson, Scarlett Rose,” His voice dipped even lower as it ghosted my pulse point, awakening the rest of my wanton and traitorous body.

“A lesson?” I hated how my voice came out, a soft whisper.Weak. I was better than this. “You know I go by Camillo, here.” I didn't know why I felt the need to correct him now of all times.

“Wrong.” His breath now fanned a spot behind my ear. This time, I couldn’t fight the shiver that shot up my spine. He was close.So close.“You’ll always be my ScarlettRose. Even with the dyed hair and contacts. You’ll always be the sandy blonde girl who stole my heart the moment I met her.”

“I’m not yours,” I replied, but the denial was somewhat weakened by the fact that he brushed a fingertip along my cheekbone, and an actualmoanescaped my lips.

He chuckled, breath searing on my neck. “Bullshit. You’ve always been mine, Scarlett. And you know it.”

His hand skimmed lower, twining around the back of my neck. His skin felt white hot, burning like a brand. My eyelids fluttered half-closed, and when I inhaled, all I smelled was him. Like somehow, in the last minute, his scent had suffused this entire room.

I could suffocate on him, and die happily.

“Say it.” His voice was still low, deep, soft. But a command entered it now. One that turned my knees to jelly.

I looked up to find his eyes on me, unreadable in the dark. But I knew him. I knew him well enough to hear the desperation underneath all this stark command. It was the same emotion I felt, the one I’d battled for as long as I could remember.

I was tired of resisting. Tired of being strong. Would it be so terrible to give him this one thing he asked for? “I’m yours,” I whispered. I’d barely finished saying the words when his lips crashed into mine.

I’d thought that first kiss was searing, hot, mind-numbing. But it was nothing compared to this. Neither of us held back now. I clawed at his shirt, and he let me rip it over his head. He shoved me back against the wall, my spine cracking into the plasterboard as his lips devoured mine, his tongue sliding through my defenses to claim every inch of my mouth.

He tore my shirt up and over my head, tossed it somewhere, I didn’t even see. Then he collided with me again, hands on my bare stomach, my rib cage, tightening as he gripped me and pulled me against him.

The sensation of his bare torso against my skin was almost too much. I felt like I’d plunged headlong into that bonfire on the beach. I raked my nails down his back and he groaned, deep in his throat, a desperate, hungry sound.

“Scarlett…”

“Xavier,” I whispered, and he made that sound again, somewhere between a growl and a groan.

“I love hearing my name on your perfect fucking mouth.” He kissed me again, as though to emphasize, and then bit down on my lower lip, so hard I was surprised I didn’t taste copper blood. He shifted his mouth, licking and biting and sucking down my neck. My pulse raced, and he must feel it, his tongue traced right over my carotid artery.

I arched up against him as he shifted lower, his hands sliding up to cup my breasts, hard, through the fabric of my bra. My nipples felt like rocks, grinding against his palms.

His hips arced into mine, and I felt his hard length even though his jeans, digging into my stomach. His clear reaction to me, his want, made my body grow impossibly hotter.

I needed this like I needed my next breath. I’ve never reacted to anyone this strongly. It consumed me. My core ached, desperately seeking something it’d never felt before. More.

A gasp fell from my lips the second I felt his soft lips graze my erect nipple. The sensation shot another throbbing pulsation to my already-drenched panties.

“Your body is so responsive. Tell me, Scarlett, did you keep your promise?” His hot breath rasped against my flesh, my name sounded like a breathy prayer from his lips but I could hear the raw desire lurking underneath.

I couldn't answer. My mind was wrapped up in the overwhelming pleasure my body felt from his ministrations. My pride was wrapped up in the fact that he knew the answer already. He knew even after all that happened during my last year at Tuscaloosa County High, I'd never let anyone touch me as he was now. That after all this time, I was still hoping,wishing, that he'd be the first and only to feel me like this.

"Answer me, Scarlett." His tone was intense, huskier, as he demanded a reply. But, I couldn't.

Heat rushed my face. I was embarrassed. I was too exposed, at his mercy right now, bare in more ways than one. I couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing. The confirmation that even though he never touched me, he ruined me for all other men. That I kept the stupid promise I made all of those years ago.

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