Page 68 of Framed

I didn’t bother to resist. My pride had long since been swallowed by the white-hot ache between my thighs, my burning need. I reached down to hook one thumb under the side of the panties, but he tilted his head, clicked his tongue to stop me.

“Slowly.”

He sat back further, eyes drinking me in. I felt like a prey animal, spread-eagled before a predator. He could do anything in the world to me right now, whatever he wanted, and I would not stop him. Would not even want to.

I rose onto my elbows, savoring the way his eyes flashed to my torso, my hips, the plane of my belly and the curve of my breasts. I liked the way I looked well enough, felt reasonably confident in my skin. But I had never felt the sheer power of my body until this moment, watching Xavier lost in me.

I ran one hand down my side, tracing a path over my breasts, between them, then slowly down my belly. I splayed my hand wide, spread my fingers, and let them slide under the hem of my panties.

Xavier’s eyes flashed. “Touch yourself,” he said. The words reverberated through my bones.

I slid lower, taking the panties with me, inch by inch. When my fingertips reached my lower lips, I parted them, let one fingertip slide between. I was, as I had already known, soaked. The scent of my want perfumed the air, and Xavier breathed in hard, heat flaring behind those fathomless eyes of his.

“Tell me what you want.” Those eyes on me, commanding, I couldn’t disobey.

“You,” I murmured.

But he shook his head. “Be more specific.” His gaze flitted down. “And did I tell you you could stop touching yourself?”

My breath hitched. I started to move my finger, sliding it up and down the length of my lips, coating myself in my own juices. My panties moved lower with the motion, and Xavier bent close, suddenly, his teeth snagging the fabric to drag them down my hips.

I gasped, feeling the hot ghost of his breath on my thighs, nerves going haywire.

He let my panties drop to the floor, leaned back up to consider my bare body, more exposed than I’d ever been before anyone in my life.

“I…” My voice wavered. It took a second to steady it, regain control. “I want you to… take off your jeans.” My gaze lowered. Through the thick fabric, I could already see his rock hard length. But I wanted more.

Xavier grinned. “Good. What else do you want, dirty girl?” He reached down to undo the clasp. Let them drop in one smooth motion. As he stepped out of them, I was barely paying attention. In boxers alone, the tent was formidable, thick and long. My breath snagged in my throat.

“Keep touching yourself,” he reminded me. “I won’t say it again.” The hint of threat made a fresh wave of hot liquid spill between my thighs.

I pressed a fingertip fully up and inside me this time. Gasped, my back arching, as I slid easily inside. I didn’t think I’d ever been this wet in my life. I didn’t know I was capable of it.

Heedful of his warning, I worked my finger in and out of myself. At the same time, I fixed my eyes on Xavier’s. “I want your boxers off too.”

With a smirk, he pushed those down. The motion freed his cock entirely, and my mouth went dry at the sight. Fuck. He stood fully erect, his shaft so thick that I wasn’t sure my hand would fully wrap around the base.

His fit, however, as demonstrated when he reached down to wrap a fist around his shaft. A single bead of precum glistened at the tip of his cock, visible in the moonlight through the windows. “Is this what you wanted, dirty girl?” He ran his hand along his own length, watching me, and I followed the motion, entranced by the veins that stood out along it, the velvety soft exterior over what looked like hammered steel.

I didn’t even notice that I’d frozen until his gaze dipped to my hand, paused with a fingertip still inside me.

His smirk widened. “My turn.” He took a step closer to the bed now. Then he bent, and caught my wrist, pulled my hand out. He was gentle at first, until he caught my other hand. Then he pinned them both over my head in one of his fists. His other hand traced over the curve of my hip, slid down between my thighs.

He parted my lips easily, trailing one finger along my slit the same way I had. Already, I could feel how much thicker his finger was. My breath caught.

“Mm…” Xavier’s voice rumbled in his throat. “You’re already soaked, Scarlett.”

My lips parted, but no sound came out.

His finger slid to my opening. Pressed. For a moment I tensed, until his eyes found mine once more. “Relax,” he breathed.

I did, and his finger slid inside me. One knuckle deep. Then two. I couldn’t help it—a weak little moan escaped my lips, and he chuckled, lowering himself until his body pressed along the length of mine, his cock a hard pressure on my soft belly.

“God, your pussy is so tight.” His finger inched deeper, all the way to the hilt. I gasped again, barely adjusting to the thickness before he withdrew again, then pushed back in. My hips rocked in time to the motion, nerves firing on all cylinders.

All I could think wasmore. It became a drum in my head, beating in tune to my pulse. More, more, more.

“Once I’m inside you, I won’t be able to control myself,” he whispered. His eyes flashed to mine, suddenly serious. “You understand?” As if to emphasize his point, on the next thrust, he added a second finger. I cried out, back arcing up off the bed as my walls stretched to accommodate him.

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