CHAPTER TWELVE
Xander
Her lips were as soft as I’d imagined they’d be.
Her tongue sweet as I swept mine into her mouth when she opened for me.
The little mewling sound that vibrated from her throat was the sexiest sound I’d ever heard.
Her hair was damp as I ran my fingers through the long strands, then down her spine, until I gripped that amazing ass in my hands. I pulled her against me tighter, needing her closeness more than I’d ever needed anything before.
Sinking back into the chair, I took her with me, moving her legs until she straddled my lap. I smiled against her lips as she moaned when her sex pressed against mine.
It was my turn to moan when she pulled back, her hands on my chest. Her eyes explored my face, and for a moment, I thought her expression would twist into regret and she would leave. Instead, there was a look of wonder in her eyes before she leaned in again. This time, it was her tongue that explored, and I gladly let it.
Her thighs were soft under my hands. I ran my fingers over her hips, moving under her shirt and up her back. She was completely naked beneath the shirt, giving my fingers plenty to touch.
And I wanted to touch her everywhere. And I wanted to take my time.
She pulled back again, and I kissed her jaw, then her ear when she turned her head. Sliding my tongue down her neck, I kissed the rapid pulse that fluttered under my lips then shifted the shirt aside until I traced her collarbone and scraped my teeth against her shoulder.
“Jacob…” she whispered.
Jacob? Well, shit.
I opened my eyes and dropped my head back on the chair’s cushion, completely deflated. “Um, no. I’m—”
“Xander, I know.” Her hands moved through my beard, and she smiled softly down at me. “But you remind me of Jacob from a book I once read.”
I examined her face, the guilelessness of her eyes. As far as I could tell, she was telling the truth. Or…
Anger hit me in the gut. Or maybe this Jacob was why she ran from France with so little. Why she flinched away from my raised hand.
Circling her wrists with my hands, I brought them down to rest on my chest. “Did Jacob hurt you?”
She frowned, then understanding dawned. “No. I’m serious. Jacob and Nellie are the hero and heroine of a romance novel I’ve read many times. I’ve always wondered if there could be a man like him.”
I relaxed a little. “Tall, dark, and handsome?” I wiggled my eyebrows and she laughed.
“Yes, except the man on the cover of the novel had long, blond hair that flowed down over his shoulders.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fabio?”
An eyebrow arched. “Fabi-who?”
She was such a contradiction. Here she was, practically naked, her hot as damn hell sex pressed into my painfully hard erection. She’d kissed me first with a hunger that was so sensual… yet she seemed so very innocent.
“Fabio. A model who was on many romance novels.”
Madalyn shifted, her pussy pressing harder on my cock, making me groan.
Frowning, she pulled one of her arms down. I let her wrist go and her fingers moved up to my beard again. “Am I hurting you?”
She probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. I chuckled. “Not in the way you’re thinking.”
Still frowning, she shifted her weight again, and I lifted my hips, grinding against her. It was her turn to moan. “Oh, I see.”
I ran my hands up her arms, her neck, until they cupped her face. “Tell me more about this Jacob.”
She blushed, and I swept a thumb over her pink cheek. “Well, he’s a captain of a ship, and Nellie was being forced into a marriage with a horrible man, Prince… I mean, Count Baltimore.” To my surprise, her nose pinkened, and tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked them back. “She found a little boat and ran away. Only the boat began taking on water.”
“And Jacob saved her?”
“Yes. Just as she thought all was lost, he came sailing along. He jumped in the water and carried her up the ladder.”
“Very fortunate timing,” I quipped, but she didn’t smile at that.
She nodded solemnly, her fingers still stroking my beard. “Yes. Very fortunate.” Her nose pinkened again. “Thank you for saving me. I thought all hope was lost too.”
I pulled her down until her nose touched the tip of mine. “You saved me first,” I whispered. “You saved Kenzie, and I’ll never be able to do enough to repay you for that.”
She closed the gap between us, her lips pressing against mine again. For someone so small, she completely consumed me, and oddly, I didn’t mind.
I was used to taking control in every situation. When I fucked, it was usually fast and furious, gentleness left out of the equation. The women never seemed to mind because I never left them unsatisfied. I wasn’t a selfish lover, nor did I have a desire to linger too long.
But now… something in Madalyn brought out the gentle nature I’d only ever shown to my children. But it wasn’t because she seemed delicate. She wasn’t. Small, yes, but also brave and strong. The combination of traits made me want to cherish her. Honor her. Revere her.
Lose myself in her.
I wanted to escape in her.
For some reason, I knew only this woman could give me salvation.
Her mouth moved up until she kissed the tip of my nose, then my brow before pressing to my temple. Against my ear, she asked, “Do you want me, Xander? As a woman?”
I lifted my hips, pressing into her, giving her my physical answer. Then I backed it up with a verbal answer too. “Yes, I want you.”
Her hands moved to my throat and up into my hair. Everything she did was so sensual. “Will you please do that again?”
Instead of lifting my hips this time, I dropped my hands to the indentations of her waist and pressed her down until her public bone ground into my erection. She moaned, and her head fell back, and I took advantage, sucking and licking at her exposed throat. Even through the material of my pants, I felt how hot and wet she was. Knowing there was nothing between us a lowered zipper couldn’t fix drove me nearly insane.
Only moments before, I’d been so tired I’d fallen asleep while waiting for her clothes to finish their cycle in the washer. I was awake now, every cell in my body vibrating with need.
“Do you want me?” I asked. I needed to be sure. I needed her to be sure. There was to be no miscommunication in this.
Instead of answering, she pressed her lips to mine again, but I needed more than that.
Holding her face a few inches away, I asked again, more urgently this time. “Do you want me, Madalyn? Do you want me to take you to my bed? Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to fuck me?”
Her eyes startled open at my blunt language. She searched my face then ran a thumb over my bottom lip. “Yes, I want it all.”
She cried out when I pushed up from the chair, taking her with me. Her legs and arms wrapped around me as I stood. Her fingers sank into my hair as I walked us down the hall.
In my bedroom, I locked the door and turned on the light. I wanted to see her. I wanted to watch each inch of her skin as it was exposed. I wanted to see if she glowed with that inward light everywhere.
She clung to me as I lowered us both to the mattress, and she took my weight as our mouths met again. With teeth and tongue, she kissed me back, nearly as ravenous as me. I shifted until my thigh came up between her legs, giving her rocking hips something to move against.
She did, her body nearly exploding with movement as she ground into me, her hands tugging at my hair. She gasped, her eyes flying open when my hand moved up the shirt and I found her breast.
Her flesh was warm beneath my palm, the nipple already hardened. She arched, her eyes on mine as I rolled the nipple, squeezed the entire breast.
“So responsive,” I murmured and pushed the shirt up until I could take the nipple between my lips. I sucked, and she went wild beneath me, crying out with pleasure as I scraped my teeth over the sensitive flesh.
Her response to my every touch stoked the fire that had burned in me since I’d first seen her, but I forced myself to go slow, take my time. What was happening between us held some type of magic I didn’t understand, and I wanted to savor it. Oddly, I wasn’t afraid of the connection we shared. It felt too right, too needed to fear.
“I want to see you,” I said, pushing up to my knees.
She reached for me, pulling on my shirt, wanting me back. “Please…”
I began to unbutton my shirt, wanting her skin against mine. “Please what, Madalyn? Tell me what you want.”
When she sat up, pressing her face into my exposed chest, kissing my skin, I let her, smoothing her still damp hair back so I could watch those beautiful lips move to my nipple.
She licked and sucked as I shrugged the shirt off and tossed it to the floor. Finding the hem of the t-shirt, I pulled it up her body, forcing her to let me go long enough to rid us of that barrier too.
“You taste salty.”
I grimaced. “Sorry. I should have showered. I wasn’t expecting this.”
She licked up my sternum, and damn, if that wasn’t sensual, nothing was. “I like it. It’s like the ocean. One of my favorite things.”
The ocean again, and I imagined her in the bed of my Montauk home, making love as the sun rose over the water.
“I want to escape from here,” I said, making the decision. She looked up at me, although her fingers continued to stroke my back. “And I want you to escape with me. You, me, and the kids at my beach house.” Anxiety at her reaction thickened my throat. “Will you come?”
I had a packed calendar, meeting after meeting all week.
Fuck it.
I would call Joyce in the morning, ask her to clear everything. After all, that was why I’d hired the best of the best.
My children needed me.
I needed them too.
And Madalyn… we needed each other.
I didn’t know why or how it had come to be this way, but it was true.
“I’ll go with you, Xander.”
I took her face in my hands and kissed her until she made those little mewling sounds that vibrated into and through me. Pressing her back onto the bed, I continued to kiss her while my hand explored her skin.
She was so soft, even with the goose bumps that raised when I trailed my hand down her belly. I lifted up on my elbow, wanting to see her body open for my fingers.
I was surprised to find her completely bare. Completely.
I had a moment of pure panic and looked down into Madalyn’s face, the smooth, nearly translucent skin. Oh my god. “How old are you?”
She frowned up at me. “Twenty-two. Why?” Only an eight-year difference. I was so relieved I sagged down on top of her, laying my head on her breasts. She pushed my head up and asked again, “Why?”
Should I lie? No. The truth. Always the truth.
“Because I had this horrible moment of thinking you were a grown-up-looking fifteen-year-old that I was about to abuse.”
She frowned and pushed up onto her elbows. “Do I look fifteen?”
“No, you look like a beautiful woman. With all the craziness that’s happened in my life recently, I wanted to make certain, especially after seeing this.” I brushed a thumb over her bare mound, and she closed her legs.
“I’m sorry. Is that not right?”
What an odd question.
I pushed her legs back open, traced a finger over the soft skin. “No. Everything about you is beautiful. It was just unexpected. I don’t even know why it surprised me, but it did.”
She blushed, and I felt like a damn shit for embarrassing her. “It’s part of my… um, the culture.” She frowned. “The style.”
It had been a ridiculous thought, I realized. I was tired and on edge, second-guessing myself as a human. If she’d been younger than eighteen, the officers wouldn’t have left her with me. They would have called child protective services. A fuss would have been made.
No. She was an adult and capable of making adult decisions.
“Do you no longer want me?” The question was softly asked.
I moved until my lips were only inches from hers, my erection pressing hard into her hip. “I’ve never wanted any woman as much as I want you.”
Another truth.
She smiled, and if I hadn’t been lying down, it would have knocked me off my feet. “Then why are we talking?”
I laughed. She was so unique. So precious. “I have no idea.”
Her finger moved over the ink on my arm, trailing over and around the swirls of the tattoo. I took her hand in mine, lifted the palm to my lips. When I kissed the inside of her wrist, she shivered, and the pulse leapt under my tongue.
“I didn’t know that sex could be this way,” she said, curling toward me.
I grinned. “We haven’t even had sex yet.” But I knew what she meant. It had never been this way for me either. A slow exploration with no care of the finish line.
I kissed up her arm and to her shoulder, then down until her nipple was in my mouth again. My hand drifted lower, over the smooth surface of her mound, and she cried out, arching into my touch as my finger swirled over and around her clit.
“Am I doing better than Jacob?”
She was breathless. “Oh, yes.”
Watching her face, I increased the pressure, watching her unravel as I circled the sensitive nerves. She slammed her hands down on the sheets, fists grabbing at the silky material. She was breathing hard and was so very wet as I explored her further, dipping my finger into her wetness, gathering the moisture pooling there.
“Did Jacob touch Nellie this way?” I asked her as the lube of her own body made my touch on her clitoris more intense.
“Y-yes.”
“What else did he do?”
Her breath expelled on a little laugh, and her hand came down to cover mine. She arched up as she pressed down. My angel wanted it harder. I’d give her hard.
Moving between her legs, I pressed her thighs apart, watched her sex open like a flower. So pretty, pink and glistening. Ripe and ready for me.
“Did he do this?”
I didn’t wait for an answer, just dipped my head and glided my tongue up her slit. I teased her, tracing the outline of her petal smooth lips before dipping the tip of my tongue between them. She moaned and jerked backward, and if I hadn’t had my arms around her thighs she would have jolted away.
I grinned. So very sensitive.
“Oh mon,” she breathed. “S’il vous plaît ne pas arrêter.”
I had no idea what she said, but I decided it was a good thing from the way she continued to writhe and moan.
Increasing the pressure of my tongue, I held on to her tighter, keeping her still. Her hands sank into my hair, her nails digging into my scalp.
I didn’t care, I feasted, raking my teeth over her clit. Her leg muscles flexed, her heels digging into my shoulder blades as she moved up and down on my tongue.
“You’re so sweet,” I murmured before sucking her labia into my mouth.
“Xander…”
Having her say my name with the throaty growl nearly made me explode in my pants, and I needed to be inside her. I needed to come. But not yet.
I wanted her to come with my mouth, and from the way her body tightened, she was close. After that, I’d make her come on my fingers before she came on my cock.
Circling her clit with my tongue, I pushed her thighs farther apart, exposing her even more. Opening her with my thumbs, I delved into the sweetness inside her, wanting to taste every part of her. I moved lower, my tongue sliding over the smooth skin until I found the pucker of her ass.
She gasped and jerked away, making me smile. Someday, my angel.
Moving back up, I kissed the insides of her thigh, raking my teeth over the tendon that was like a roadmap to her sex.
Madalyn moaned as I dipped my tongue into her again, and her thighs began to quake.
“No.”
The word was so low, I thought I must have imagined it at first, then it came again, and I lifted my head.
Madalyn lifted her head too. Our eyes met down the length of her body, and hers widened when another word came through the walls. It was, “Don’t,” this time. Even louder. More urgent.
Adrenaline spiked. “Kylian.”
I was up and off the bed, even as she was scrambling off it behind me. She reached for her shirt as I pulled the door open, flying down the hallway to my son’s room, his cries a sobbing anguish. I burst inside to find his arms raised as he pushed against something — someone — I couldn’t see.
Rage poured through me, and I raced to him, careful to only touch him with my right hand. Because my fucking left one was still wet from Madalyn’s body.
“Kylian, wake up. It’s okay.”
Holy Christ.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
While monsters were stalking my son in his sleep, I was fucking a virtual stranger just down the hall. And because of that, I couldn’t even touch him, hold him in the way I needed to.
Kylian clawed at me, and I shook him harder. “Kylian, wake up. It’s me.”
Madalyn swept into the room, her hair a tangled mess from my hands. “What do you need?”
“A fucking washcloth…” When she just stood there, confused, I added, “To clean my hand.”
Her face morphed into mortification, then she was gone.
Kylian snapped awake, sitting straight up in his bed, beads of sweat dripping down his temple. I pulled him to me. “It’s okay. Shhh. I’m here. It’s okay.”
He burst into tears, then Madalyn was back and began soaping my extended hand. She used a second to rinse it, then placed a third on Kylian’s neck.
I was still angry at myself. Seriously, what had I been thinking?
I was a father. I had a serious responsibility to my kids. Especially to my son. Especially now.
Madalyn left the room, and I could hear her bare feet padding down the hallway.
“Shhh,” I soothed the still trembling boy.
“He… he…”
“Shhh, it’s okay. He’s not here. He can’t hurt you anymore. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
Using the clean washcloth still wrapped around his neck, I wiped off his face. He gave one last shudder, then began to settle, leaning against me more heavily now.
Then Madalyn was back, a mug in her hand. She had pulled a pair of sleeping pants on, the Beasts t-shirt hanging over them. “I made some warm milk,” she said, her voice soft as she approached. She smelled of fabric softener as she bent and held the cup to my son’s mouth. “It always soothed me when I couldn’t sleep.”
He took several swallows, then nodded and she lifted it away, setting it on the table next to the bed. Looking unsure of what to do next, she took a few steps backward, worry living on her face.
I met her eyes. I needed her to go. I couldn’t focus on my child, who desperately needed me while I was being distracted by her.
“Thank you,” I told her, my voice colder than I intended. “Good night.”
Disappointment and hurt flashed across her expression at my dismissal, and I tried to add a smile to soften it, but she was already sweeping from the room, her chin up, shoulders back. I missed her immediately.
“Will you sleep with me, Dad?” Kylian asked.
I turned my focus back on my son and kissed his sweaty head. “Yes. Of course I will.”
Then I covered us up and held him until he fell asleep.
And each time I thought of Madalyn in the other room, I forced my mind back to my child.
This was where I was needed.
Where I belonged.