Page 53 of Breaking the Rules
“Xavier,” she breathed out his name as he broke her with the pads of his fingers making tiny, probing circles. He was working her over with the lightest touch, the darkest words.
“I’ll tell you a secret, Angel.” He dipped his other hand into the front of her top to cup her breast.
She gasped when his palm grazed her nipple. “Chasing you gets me off, too.”
His fingers worked that sensitive peak, and she was already coming for him as he danced over her clitoris. She moaned as it tore through her, fast and heady, and in its wake, her orgasm left a gnawing hunger for more.
She thrust her hips against him, begging with her body for what she desired most.
“Don’t tease me, Angel. I’ve been thinking about this moment for five long years, and I don’t know if I can go slow.”
“I don’t want you slow. I want you angry and hard. The way you chase me. Take me that way, X,” she told him through clenched teeth.
She heard him growl, and then he was flipping her skirt up and running his palms down her buttocks and thighs. The sound of his zipper as he opened it was as erotic as the promises he was murmuring against her neck. His erection fell heavily into his hand, and she trembled when it brushed against the exposed skin of her ass. He was leaking with anticipation, and the moisture transferred to her cheek.
He shoved her forward, head down and kicked her feet out a little wider. Her heels evened out their height difference enough that he only needed to bend his knees a little.
Xavier guided the head of his shaft down the cleft of her buttocks, and she shivered when he probed between her legs. “Be careful what you wish for, Waverly.”
“Xavier,” she gasped out his name when he paused just outside of her entrance. “Please.”
“Hands on the wall, Angel.” He was stroking himself against her, working the head of his cock through her slick lips. The round, smooth crown of his penis teased her still trembling bud.
God, she wanted him. If he stopped now, if he pulled away, she knew she’d die. Her heart would simply stop beating, and she would crumple to the ground, ruined with unfulfilled desire. No one made her feel like this, no one but Xavier, and she hated him for it.
“You know what this means,” he groaned in her ear as he tortured them both with shallow strokes and thrusts. She shoved her ass against him, begging with her body. She was dizzy with need, with the thrill of being overpowered, and gasped when a bead of moisture, the physical combination of both their desires, trickled down the inside of her thigh. “Tell me what this means, Waverly.”
She shivered against him, so close to coming again, but she wanted him in her, filling her.
“Say it,” he snapped.
“I want you,” she whispered.
His lips caressed her jawline where it met her neck, and he grunted softly. “And?”
“I need you.”
He growled his approval, and she wanted to feel shame for falling for him again. For needing his body to make hers feel complete. For craving the release that only Xavier could give her. But all that mattered was that he was touching her, and he wasn’t going to stop.
“I don’t have a condom.” It was a last chance for her to put a stop to it.
She could have told him that she was on the same birth control as five years ago, could have told him that she wanted him without any barriers between them. But she kept it simple. “I don’t care.”
He groaned in her ear, the sound the tortured make when their torment is finally over.
“Yes!” The word exploded from her as he eased into her inch by glorious inch stretching her, filling her, so painfully full.
“God. You’re so tight,” he gritted out.
The pleasure that rose in her was so intense, it forced her breath out of her burning lungs in sobs. There wasn’t enough oxygen here to breathe, but she didn’t need it. She didn’t need anything with him inside her. “Xavier,” she chanted his name over and over again.
He braced his hands on her hips and pulled out slowly before slamming in, this time to the hilt. A primitive groan of triumph rose from his chest as he buried himself in her.
His fingers bit into her skin hard enough to leave bruises, and the brick scraped at her palms, but Waverly didn’t care. After feeling empty for years, she was finally filled. Her body remembered this fullness, this sliver of pain and tidal wave of pleasure. It was in her DNA to crave him.
He held there, sheathed in her, for a breath then two. “Relax for me, baby. You’re so fucking tight.” His words were harsh with the effort to hold back.
She took a shaky breath and tried to accept him all. As she relaxed around him degree by degree, he let his hands roam her stomach, her thighs, her breasts. He pulled out and drove back in with a measured plunge, then again.
