Ten Thousand Words (52 page)

“Fuck, Xanthe.”

“Hush.”

Damn.

She undid my button and fly and detached the suspenders.

“You’re supposed to sit on my face,” I reminded her.

Pulling out my painful erection, she swallowed me down whole. My spine went liquid, and I slumped onto the mattress, spread out before her. It didn’t matter what I wanted. She could have whatever she desired from me whenever she wanted it.

Pumping me with her hand, she told me, “I want to make you come now, so when you’re ready to fuck me, you’ll have the staying power to make me beg for a long,
long
time…”

Oh God.
I wanted that, too.

Her hot, wet mouth sucked me deep once more, and I was lost. I was no longer aware of anything but myself as her man and the primitive call to fill every part of her with me. My hands fisted in her hair, pulling and pushing her over me. Her throat closed around me, fighting the gag reflex, but she let me thrust as far as I could repeatedly until I erupted with a shout that tore its way out of my lungs.

Releasing her hair, I grasped her under her arms and dragged her up the length of me until we were face-to-face. Like a starving lunatic, I sucked on her lips and tongue, tasting the bitterness I’d left behind.
Fuck, that’s sexy.
One hand went to a breast, pinching just a little too hard at the nipple.

“Again,” she breathed against my mouth.

Instead, I pulled her up, so I could suck and bite each nipple through the lace and silk. She ground her hot pussy on my stomach, and fuck me, if that wasn’t next on the menu. Reaching behind her, I unclasped the bra and attacked her bare tits like an animal.

“Please,” she begged, whimpering and squirming against me.

Ignoring her, I tongued her nipples, flicking the piercings, nipping at them, until she was writhing and moaning in my arms. She had worn a wet patch through my shirt, and I wanted to shout with my triumph.

“Oliver! Please!” she cried out.

I hefted her up by her arse, and she fell forward, landing on her hands, her flushed cunt inches from my mouth. Greedy fucker that I was, I gave it a long, fat lick, getting as much of her flavor on my taste buds as I could.

“Damn, Xanthe…” I moaned against her flesh. “You taste of heaven.”

“Don’t stop.”

Like that was possible. With her knees pressed to my shoulders, I filled my hands with her bum and ate at her as she undulated her hips over me.

“Oh
God
!” she cried. “More!”

She was so wet, just fucking dripping into my beard. It was ridiculous, how easily my first two fingers slid into her. Her walls clenched hard on them, and I couldn’t resist slipping in a third.

“Fuck!”
she screamed. With her thighs shaking, her torso slumped forward.

I scooted out from under her, reared up behind her, and brutally shoved myself into her molten core.

“Augh!” she screamed.

“You fucking wore those goddamn panties to Christmas fucking dinner,” I snarled, pounding into her. “You’re lucky I don’t take you over my fucking knee—”

She moaned like a porn star at the thought of me doing that to her, so I rewarded my slutty little hipster with a hard slap to her ass.

“Fuck!”

“You want me to make you beg?” I asked.

“Oh God!”

“Do you?” I slapped her arse again. “Answer me!”

“Yes!”

I grabbed the back of her neck and shoved her face into the bed. With my other hand, I grabbed one of those sinful pumps and pushed the heel against her flaming bum, all the while battering into her slick heat.

“You’re the naughtiest little shit I’ve ever known, love. You should have told me you were wearing these, so you could have tortured me all throughout dinner. I would’ve been rock fucking hard and plotting your punishment.”

Letting go of her foot, I slipped my hand around to work her soaking swollen clit with my fingertips. She tightened around me, sobbing into the bedspread.

“Beg me to make you come, Xanthe,” I demanded.

“Please…”

I stopped thrusting. “You can do better than that, love.”

“For fuck’s sake!” she cried out, pushing back against me. “Oliver,
please
!”

“That’s better,” I told her.

Letting go of her neck, I smacked her ass on the opposite cheek before ramming into her full force. Working her hard, I had her melting around me and screaming my name.

It was a good thing she’d made me come already. Otherwise, I’d never have lasted.

Sucking in huge drafts of air, I pulled out of her and flipped her onto her back. Shrugging out of my shirt and pushing my pants down, I grabbed her legs, threw them over my shoulders, and sank into her luscious body once more.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” I told her through clenched teeth.

I had her arse in my hands, her shoulders pressing into the bed. I was so deep, drenched in her essence. I wanted to drown in it. Pulling back, I slammed her onto me as I thrust forward. I wanted to make sure she’d be feeling me long after I was through with her.

Sweat dripped down the back of my neck.

Xanthe bit her lip, her hands fisting into the covers. Her brow knit together, and her eyes screwed shut behind her glasses.

She should probably take those off. They’re going to end up wrecked.

“Shit!” she cried out.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

“Fuck!” she screamed. “Oliver! I can’t—”

“Bullshit,” I hissed. “You’ll fucking take it.” I was having a hell of a good time watching those fat tits bouncing. “And you’ll fucking love every second of it.”

Shoving a fist into her mouth, she screamed and choked. Around me, she tightened until I saw fucking stars. Her entire body shuddered and went limp, one leg falling from my shoulder. Her chest heaved with her effort to breathe, and I had to admit, it was just about the sexiest thing ever.

Love-making time.

Easing her onto the bed, I fully pushed into her. I held myself still, just taking all of her in—the fine sheen of sweat on her brow and chest, the remarkable rose color from her breasts to her cheeks, how swollen and juicy her lips were. Fuck, she was stunning.

Plucking the glasses from the bridge of her nose, I tossed them onto the nightstand. Gently, I showered her face with kisses, all the while moving within her.

I was going to fucking touch her heart, damn it. The tip of my cock was going to kiss her soul. I wanted to penetrate every corner of her.

Her silk-clad legs wrapped around my waist, and she started moving with me again. Her heart beat in rhythm with mine, against my own. Her sighs filled me, elevated me. I couldn’t keep my hands off her, couldn’t stop kissing and tasting her with the sweet and salty lust-laced flavor coating her skin.

Tighter and tighter, more urgent, she bucked beneath me, moaning and shivering, clinging, clawing, grasping. She came apart in my arms, a vision of sex and love.

Once more, I rolled us, kicking the rest of my clothes off. I wanted to rip the bits of lace and silk off her, have her as bared to me as I was to her, but I was so deep within her, I couldn’t bear to leave her.

My home. My true self. My reflection. My everything.

“Your turn to make me come, love,” I softly told her.

Xanthe smiled down on me, illuminating everything I loved about my life. Taking my hands, she laced our fingers and held them to her heart.

“I love you, Oliver.”

My eyes burned, and I found it hard to swallow past the emotion clogging my throat. “I love you, too, Xanthe.”

Then, she pinned my hands above my head and rode me. First, it was nice and slow, drawing out every stroke and pull on my cock, every slick rub of our skin. Quicker and harder, she drove me out of my head. By the time my body was begging for release, my hands were digging into the flesh of her hips, my spine bowed, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

“Oh God.
Xanthe
!”

Supernovas and sunbursts and blasts of colors as bright as fireworks exploded through me. My love left me quivering between her thighs, wrung out and boneless. Crushing her to my chest, the lump of emotion that had formed in my throat busted apart, and I sobbed into her hair.

Whatever we had just had, it wasn’t sex. It was everything. Hearing the catch in her breath, I knew she had been rocked just as hard as I had.

Liquid morning light poured in through the windows. Beneath the covers, Xanthe was naked and wrapped up with my arms and legs. Poor woman was practically a hostage to my sleeping needs.

Before we had to wake up and get through the day, I had a special present I wanted to give her.
In a few minutes.

She was just so soft and warm, her breasts squished to my chest. She smelled of cinnamon and dried sex and sweaty boyfriend. I loved it.

My love stirred, giving off a little moan as she tried to stretch, finding herself trapped.

“Oliver?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you let me up?”

“I’m not sure,” I replied, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

Her hair didn’t smell like sweaty boyfriend. It smelled like Xanthe and raspberry.

“Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Untangling my limbs from hers, she stretched properly before traipsing off to the bathroom. I gave her a few minutes of privacy before following her in.

“I’m in desperate need of a shower,” she told me, removing the toothbrush from her mouth.

With my cock blazing with morning wood, I sat down to pee. “Let’s take a bath.”

Her eyes widened, and she glanced at the tub. “Hell yeah. We haven’t tried that out.”

“I have. It’s fantastic. Maybe I’ll have one put in our place.”

“Your tub is already awesome, Ollie.”

“
Our
tub.”

She smiled shyly. “Our tub. It’s weird. I’m actually excited to do this. I can’t wait really.”

My heart tripped, hearing her say that. “Me, too.”

I got up and started to fill the tub. It took a few minutes, so while the water was running, I grabbed her hand and led her back to the bedroom.

“I have a present for you that I don’t want you to open in front of anyone else.”

“Sounds kinky.”

“It’s really not,” I replied. Finding the gift in my suitcase, I handed it to her.

She tore the wrapping off like a kid, smiling brightly. Her eyes grew wide. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“You’ve seen it before,” I told her.

“Not properly. If I recall, you bent me over before I could really look at any of them.”

It was a photo of me, one that she had taken. It was a beautiful shot, too. She had perfectly captured my emotions, the moment itself. I had been deep inside her at the time, and I had truly looked past the camera in her hands and into her eyes.

“You know, looking at this…I can well imagine it’s like looking into a part of your soul.”

“You look into my soul every day, Xanthe,” I told her, taking one of her hands and bringing it to my lips. “It’s yours. I think it always has been.”

Ollie

It’s really happening.

Xanthe was moving in with me. The evidence was right before me, boxed up by my own hands, while she scribbled the contents of the box on the side with a fat permanent marker. For someone who had been reluctant to live together, Xanthe was fully embracing this now. For myself—who, up until three months ago, had never slept in the same bed with another woman—I was stupid with my excitement.

So much had happened since we got back from England two and a half weeks ago.

Ronen Kelly was back. Ricki and Jaime had picked us all up at the airport in a suspicious-looking black van that Ricki kept calling Chester, and Ronen had been in it.

“Douche bag!” Ronen had cried when he spotted me, a huge smile splitting his patchy, scruffy face.

Coming up, he had given me a man-hug that included slapping the almighty shit out of my back. So, I’d pounded heartily on his, making him wheeze.

“I see everything’s worked out for you two then?”

Xanthe had snorted with laughter. “You’re an asshole.”

“I’m your
favorite
asshole,” he’d replied. He’d caught her in a rib-cracking hug.

Lilla and their daughter would be arriving when Ronen established a home for them. That was when Trey had come up with the brilliant idea of Rex moving in with him and Ronen taking over Xanthe and Rex’s place. Rex had taken it all in stride. Trey was over the moon about him agreeing to it, but I couldn’t help but wonder if they were ready.