Elsie

The real Xander? What does he mean? My body is too full of heat and I want to comprehend what he said.

I definitely want to finish what we started in the hotel room, but I wasn’t expecting it to happen in a stranger’s house. Especially one full of antiques and seeming like the sort of place they should charge admission to tour.

Xander bites my neck again, sending yet another jolt of electricity straight to my pussy. I force my arms between us and grapple with his shirt buttons.

I swallow and ask, “Why are you wearing clothes?”

He steps back and smirks at me before undoing the rest of the buttons and pulling off his shirt.

My jaw drops.

He looks like he’s been carved straight out of my imagination, because his body is too good to be true. If you asked me to come up with the perfect male body, his would be it. His strong arms move into his broad shoulders, and his pecs are hard. My eyes follow the line between them, down to his perfectly formed abs. Not to mention his sexy sleeve tattoo that keeps drawing my eye.

Afraid I’m about to start drooling, I slowly blink my eyes, half expecting to have been imagining things. But nope, his body is still every bit as incredible.

“Jesus,” I mumble and reach my hand out to touch him, wanting further proof that he’s real.

My hand connects with his six-pack, and my palm burns with heat. It’s almost too intense but I force myself to keep it against his skin and explore his exposed body.

With my hands still on him, Xander steps out of his pants, standing in only a pair of black boxers. It’s impossible to miss the sheer size of the bulge stretching the fabric and my heart beats a little faster, imagining it stretching me open.

We still haven’t made it away from the front door and I wonder if he’s going to push me up against it, the way he did in the hotel room.

In a quick motion, Xander slips his thumbs into the waistband of my thong and pulls it off. Fully naked, a blush runs over my body. I drag my eyes up to Xander’s and he grips my chin and holds it in place as he crushes his mouth against mine.

He runs his tongue along my lips, coaxing them open, as if they needed it. His tongue pushes into my mouth and I welcome it with my own. He presses his body tight against me and my body hums at the skin to skin contact.

I shift from foot to foot, aware of the wetness trickling down the inside of my thigh.

Without warning, he lifts me up and flings me over his shoulder. I squeal with laughter and he slaps my bare ass. He bends and retrieves a condom from the pocket of his jeans that he’d discarded on the floor, bringing home the reality of what we’re doing.

It’s just so hard to believe. Like I’m a kid who has to pinch herself to make sure I’m not dreaming.

Carrying me away from the front door, we move deeper into the house. From my upside-down position, everything is ancient and expensive looking, and I wonder where he is taking me. We reach a room with a large ornately carved sofa upholstered in red velvet and he lays me on it.

“Shouldn’t we put a blanket or something down?” I ask, still concerned about touching anything in this house.

“Fuck it,” he says and falls to his knees on the floor.

He spreads my legs wide with his hands and kisses my knee before sliding his tongue up the wet trail until he reaches the very tender area between my leg and my pussy. He nips at the hollowed-out area and a soft moan escapes me.

A swirling ball of heat circles deep within my core, knowing he’s in such an intimate position and wondering what he’s going to do next. What’s he thinking? That this is the real me? I can’t get any more exposed to him than this.

The ball grows, waiting and waiting for him to do something. It grows so intense that I roll my head back and press myself deep into the antique sofa, aching for his next move.

Xander exhales sharply sending his hot breath across my lips, causing a shiver to coat my entire body.

He hooks my thigh around his neck, causing his head to be sideways from his position on the floor. He kisses my lips as if he were kissing my mouth, spreading them wide and then closed again and runs his tongue along my slit, darting sideways between my clit and my slick entrance. My body presses deeper into the sofa and a moan erupts from my core.

I’ve never experienced anything like what he’s doing but it sure as hell feels amazing. I mesh my fingers through his hair, encouraging him to continue.

The ball of heat grows and spreads from my core up to my chest and down to my knees. My legs start to quiver, and he holds my free leg still. His tongue starts to concentrate on my clit, circling it faster and faster and I lose all sense of time and space.

Ramming two fingers into my entrance, Xander pushes them deep, spreads them wide apart and pulls them out, jamming them in again. He does it one more time and I’m tipped so far over the edge that I twist and turn and buck my hips to cope with the intensity of the orgasm.

He grunts in satisfaction and pulls his hand away.

“No,” I protest, needing something for my still spasming walls to clutch onto.

“Patience,” he says, and tears open the condom wrapper.

My eyelids are heavy and I vaguely watch as he rolls the condom down his impressively thick shaft. I’d like to touch it and explore it along with the rest of his body but at the moment I’m paralyzed by the orgasm he unleashed. It seems like the only part of me working right now are my eyes. The rest of me is a pulsing, tingling mess.

Climbing onto the sofa, he hovers over me for a moment without touching our bodies together. Sparks from his skin jump across to mine and I attempt to arch my back to close the distance between us.

Placing his lips to my ear he says, “You are beautiful when you come.” As he finishes his sentence, he pushes his dick deep inside me, stretching and filling me in ways I never knew were possible.

My spasming walls clamp around his thickness, giving me some relief but almost immediately the ball of heat in my core starts to blossom again. His breath is hot down my neck as he thrusts his hips. I hook my legs around his, slipping a foot under each of his muscular thighs in order to encourage him deeper.

As he thrusts, his pelvic bone rubs against my clit, forcing high-pitched moans from me with each movement. Even though my first orgasm hasn’t fully subsided, another one is building with an even greater ferocity.

He arches his back, and I’m suddenly struck by what is actually happening to me. Xander Whitman is inside me. An image of Isabel giving me a fist bump roves through my mind before I stomp it out because this isn’t the reality star, he is simply the man I’ve connected with.

“I love how loud you are,” Xander says, his voice husky and strained. I suddenly realize how loud I’m being, which is highly unusual. Normally I’m a quiet person during sex but nothing with Xander is normal.

My body tenses on the edge and I dig my fingernails into his back as he thrusts into me, now aware that I’m moaning continuously. I can’t help myself.

His words unleash the ball in my core, a tidal wave rushing through my body from head to toe and I melt in his arms.