Ours to Love

Page 10


As she melted beneath him, opening to him with more enthusiasm than finesse, he rolled to his back, draping her across his body. He wrapped his arms around her, fingers zeroing in on her bra. She barely had time to gasp before all four hooks across the middle of her back slid open. For such a lacy garment, it was quite supportive. Xander approved. With breasts like hers, she needed it. And he loved working his way down to her skin, feeling those hooks come undone one at a time under his fingers.

He peeled the delicate straps down her arms, then tossed her bra to the floor. “You won’t need that for a while.”

London flushed. “You’re awfully good at removing bras. Clearly, you’ve done that many, many times. You’re a terrible man, aren’t you?”

Xander curled a grin at her. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had made him laugh while she aroused the hell out of him. “The worst. You’ll probably regret this tomorrow.”

That made her pause, then she shook her head. “Not if you make me feel good. Not if you give me something to remember. That’s all I want.”

She was saying good-bye before they’d even fucked? That bothered him, but he let it go for now. They were done when he said they were done. What he really needed to do was give her so much ecstasy that she couldn’t bear to let him go.

Happy with his game plan, he rolled her to her back again, then rose to his knees and proceeded to work his way out of his gray dress shirt. He sent it sailing across the room, and it landed somewhere near her bra. And when he glanced back at London, she was gaping at his chest, her gaze sliding from his pectorals, down his abdominals, down to his—

“Oh. Wow. You’re . . . I think I’ve swallowed my tongue.”

Xander laughed. She was so artless, so unpracticed. Every response was like the first thought off the top of her head, all spoken without a filter. No fake purring or cheesy lines or centerfold poses with porn star faces. London was totally herself. He adored that.

“Don’t do that, belleza. I’ll need that tongue later.” He winked.

She flushed even deeper. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“I haven’t given you a good reason for that yet. Soon . . .”

And thinking about all the ways he could truly make her dizzy, he jumped off the bed and took advantage of her supine body. “Stay right there. Don’t move a muscle. Can you do that for me?”

“What are you going to do?”

“Make you feel fantastic. I just need you to promise me that you’ll lie here like a good girl for me.”

A shadow of indecision passed across her face. “It’s not going to hurt?”

“If it does, I’m doing something wrong.” He grinned reassuringly.

She nodded, fidgeting a bit nervously before she settled down. “All right.”

No games, no “I’m going to be your best ever, baby” comments. Anticipation lighting him up like a fireworks show, Xander attacked the buttons on her cargo capris. She barely had time to gasp before he had her zipper down, the garment around her ankles, and falling to the floor.

Wow. Just wow. He couldn’t think much else as he looked down at her body clad only in a really tiny white lacy thong. He’d seen her wear it onstage, but taking it all in now that he was much closer and more personal, Xander liked it even better. Her thighs were smooth and pale and just a bit plump. They’d cushion his head when he ate at her pussy. He couldn’t wait to wrap his fingers around those legs and pry them far apart as he crawled in between. Little tufts of fair hair protected her mons. He’d love to have her bare. She’d be pink and pretty and perfect, and his mouth watered just thinking about her.

“You’re staring . . . down there.” She sounded almost embarrassed about her own body. That wouldn’t do.

“At your pussy, belleza? Yes. You’re beautiful.”

“That’s not pretty, it’s functional.”

“I think it’s both. You don’t want to argue with me, do you?” He edged his voice with a bit of sharpness to let her know he’d find that unacceptable.

She hesitated, going somewhere up in her head. Xander cleared his throat and raised a brow, letting her know he expected an answer. Obviously, she had no idea that he was a Dom. Hell, she probably didn’t even know that she was a natural sub. If she did, she’d certainly never explored this side of her sexuality. But he’d guide London and let her instincts lead her closer to him for now. Soon, he’d tie her down, take her through the dynamic. And God, he couldn’t wait to feel that lush ass under his hand, reddening for his gaze and his pleasure.

Yeah, he was a pervert. Sue him.

“N-no,” she answered finally, a bit uncertainly. He let it slide.

“Good girl. Give me the panties.”

Her pretty blue eyes flared wide with shock. “Give them to you? Like . . . take them off and just hand them over to—” She shook her head, then stopped herself, sighing. “Really?”

“I want to get at your pussy. Show me that you want me there. Now, belleza.”

She sucked in a deep breath, clearly gathering her courage. “One promise?”

The note of apprehension that crept into her voice gave him pause. Something was really hanging her up. Her lack of experience? Xander had been with thousands of women. He knew one relatively untried when he touched her. This one was too old to be virginal, but she’d clearly been handled in the past by the inept and clueless. It made him want to give her a totally different experience, so he was prepared to be indulgent—to a point.

“What’s is it, belleza?”


“Don’t look at my back. Promise me, and I’ll do whatever else you want.”

He frowned. Her back? With any new sub, he always negotiated. Safe, sane, and consensual, after all. For now, he’d consider that a soft limit—which meant he’d push it soon. “Sure.”

London released a pent-up breath, seemingly relieved at his agreement. “Thank you.”

Then she shimmied out of her little thong, wriggling it down her hips, past her thighs. Xander didn’t look any lower. Her feet were probably petite, and she likely had little red toe nails or something equally cute. But he fixed his stare on her pussy and didn’t let up. Yep, sweet pink flesh, just like he suspected. Her folds were slick and a little swollen. But he knew how to make her even more ready.

“That grin scares me.” She watched him with a little smile.

He dove between her legs, licking his lips. “It should, belleza.”

Without a word, he shoved her thighs wide and pried her folds apart with his thumbs. Then he raked her pussy with the flat of his tongue, lapping at the juices already spilling for him. She gasped, fisted the sheets—and he nearly fucking died. More than sweet, London was utterly addicting, and he drank her up like he couldn’t get enough. Suddenly, he wondered if he ever would. Everything about her—the way she arched, the little noises in the back of her throat, how quickly her clit hardened against his tongue—it all excited the hell out of him.

“That’s it,” he encouraged her. “You’re hot and slick and scrumptious.” He nudged her with his nose, and the scent of her exploded all through his senses again. “Hmm, I’m going to keep you on my skin all day long. I’m going to remember this every second. And it’s going to make me pull you back into bed so I can taste you again and again. Come on my tongue, belleza.”

She reached down and thrust her fingers into his hair, bucking up against his mouth. She swelled once more. London was going to come for him in seconds. Her body tensed, gathering up like a storm. He could feel it brewing inside her. She was unraveling for him. When she did, he’d watch the show, marvel at how beautiful she was, then fuck her blind.

And if he stretched this out for a few hours, he wouldn’t have to think about how useless he was otherwise and how much Javier— Never mind. Not going down that mental path. Why bother when London was way more engrossing than his moronic pity party?

Using his tongue, he swiped at her small opening, licking up and all the way over her sweet candy clit. God, he could imagine her waxed. In fact, he already knew he was going to want to fuck her after today. He’d talk her into getting bare in every way for him.

The idea made his dick harder. He hadn’t known that was even possible.

“Xander!” she cried out, panting and half-afraid.

He simply moaned against her in acknowledgement, but nothing was going to make him give up this tasty treat before he blew her mind and she came apart.

But she stiffened, trying to clamp down on his head with her plush thighs. She shoved and pushed at him. What the hell? Had he hurt her somehow.

“What’s wrong, belleza?”

She shook her head. “It was too much, too big. Too fast.”

Seriously? That only reinforced his certainty that whomever she’d been sleeping with was a complete clusterfuck in bed.

“Then it’s perfect. Big and fast will roll right over you and feel so good.” He lowered his head to her pussy again, thumbing her clit along the way.

“And mow me down.” London tensed. “I-I’m not very good at orgasm.”

Not good at it? Who’d sold her that shitty bridge? “I’m sure you’re more than good at it. Whoever’s been trying to give them to you isn’t worthy. I’ll change that, belleza. With me, you’ll be an expert. I promise.”

With her still sputtering and drawing in shuddering breaths, Xander kissed his way over her flesh with an open-mouthed passion, eating her without restraint or pause. In seconds, he’d pushed her up against the passionate cliff again. She might be fighting what was unfamiliar to her, but he’d make sure she didn’t do it for long.

“Let it go.” No way she could miss the demand in his tone. She was far too sweet, too submissive not to comply. “Spread wider for me.”

Sure enough, she did as he’d asked. As soon as she had no defenses against his probing tongue, he added a finger. She followed his orders. Damn, she was tight, and his finger felt like it might strangle under the clamping vise of her walls. Shit, just how tight was she? How long had it been? Or had her past boyfriends all had pencil dicks?

The questions swirled in his brain until she screamed in high-pitched ecstasy, her pussy pulsing on his finger. He tried to add a second to rub her G-spot and enhance the orgasm, but damn if he could wedge it in. So he rubbed it with one digit, reveling in the sight and feel of her body writhing with pleasure she couldn’t contain. Her fair face flushed, and every lush curve of her body undulated with the force of the bursting climax.

Finally, her body released its death grip on his finger, and he lifted his head as she exhaled a shuddering sigh. God, she looked beautiful, flushed and tousled, slightly sweaty and dazed. Utterly sated. His heart thudded out of control—something that hadn’t happened to him in years. Xander realized just how jaded he’d become, but with London, it was like he was experiencing everything for the first time again.

How fucking much did he love that?

“How do you feel, belleza?” he purred.

“Am I alive?” she barely got the words out before her eyes slid shut and she went limp beneath him.

He laughed as he slowly withdrew his finger and licked it clean. Damn, he was going to have to go down on her again before he was through. He kissed his way up her body. “Oh, yeah. But you might not think you are by the time I’m done with you.”

Xander saw the smile float across her face as he dug for a condom from his pocket, then reached for his zipper. London’s eyes went wider with every inch of skin he exposed. When he shucked everything and stood completely naked before her, she clapped a hand over her mouth like a virginal maiden of days gone by.

Everything inside him froze. Virginal maiden. Was it even possible?

His brain gyrated around in his head as he mulled that over and over. Fuck. Was that why she was so unused to kissing or a man eating her pussy? Was that why she didn’t shave or wax? Why she seemed so nervous? Why she’d felt so tight around his finger?

The pieces snapped into place, and he rolled to his back, staring unblinkingly at the industrial ceiling. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he’d guessed right. Oh, fuck! He didn’t have many rules in life—no poaching a buddy’s wife or girlfriend, always leave a woman sexually happier than he found her, don’t stay longer than a night or two—but the most important one was no virgins. They wanted more than he could give. No, they expected it. A messy responsibility all the way around—one he didn’t want.

But London . . . he wanted her so bad. How truly important was that rule?

Torn between his logical thoughts and his throbbing cock, he rolled to his side and fastened his gaze on her. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

Okay, so the delivery of that question wasn’t as smooth as he’d planned, but he’d gotten his point across. He also had his answer as soon as she started blushing.

Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between pages.