“That is exactly what I think,” Blackwell said flatly.
Alex shrieked. Enraged, she flew across the room, vaguely aware that her behavior was out of bounds. But her intention was to pummel him until he begged her to stop, until he admitted he was wrong, until he saw reason—until he came to his senses and realized that he loved her. She was so angry that her fist caught his jaw. He grunted. One instant later Alex was on her back on the bed, spread-eagle and held down by a man she had loved with all of her heart and was beginning, truly, to hate.
“Why in God’s name are you so angry?” Blackwell asked, his face very close to hers.
Alex ceased struggling. The words were hardly out of his mouth when Alex realized just how close his lips were to hers, that his full weight held her down as well, and that she could feel his thundering heartbeat. Some of her anger faded. A far more arresting emotion crested.
And he knew. He became utterly still, their gazes locked. Lightning flared.
Alex remained motionless, disbelieving, absorbing every single mesmerizing detail of every single inch of his hard, aroused body. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. It had become exceedingly difficult to breathe.
He was going to kiss her. He had to.
The pain of the past was entirely forgotten.
And Blackwell cursed. “Damnation,” he said, and he lowered his head, brushing her mouth with his. Alex stiffened; so did he. He lifted his head and their gazes met instantly.
And his mouth seized hers. Alex opened. As he relaxed his grip on her wrists, she flung her arms around his shoulders, her ankles hooking hard around his legs. The kiss took on a voracious life of its own. Their mouths fused. Their tongues met.
And the door slammed. With anger.
Alex jerked.
He tore his mouth from hers. “It’s only Murad,” he said harshly.
“Xavier,” Alex whispered, half of her mind forming a protest, the other half a plea. He did not listen. His mouth covered hers.
Alex had never wanted anyone more, and nothing had ever felt more right, but she was afraid. Yet he ripped his mouth from hers, his hands on her breasts. Suddenly he was shoving up the layers of her clothing, rubbing her nipples, which were hard and erect. Alex cried out.
Their gazes met.
His hand shot to the nape of her neck, anchoring her head by a handful of hair. Alex could not move, did not want to move. Giving her a smoldering glance, he lowered his head and took one of her nipples between his teeth. Perhaps because he was so excited, he tugged far too hard, and Alex cried out.
He gentled, licking her breasts, a moan working its way up from deep within his chest. He slid down her body. Alex heard herself murmuring, “Yes, God, yes,” as he buried his face between her legs. Her fingers clawed his head.
“I want to hear you scream my name,” he said. And Blackwell gripped her trousers and tore them down the center seam. Alex started. And then his mouth was on her.
He washed her with his tongue. His teeth seemed to grate her lips. Alex began to spasm violently, sobbing, but he did not stop. “More, Alexandra,” he ordered harshly, “give me more.”
His tongue was on her clitoris, stroking there, when he began to thrust inside of her with two fingers. The lights were just fading inside of Alex’s head. Her heart lurched, sped up. Her body stiffened. The vortex beckoned her again. “Xavier, oh God,” she begged.
His tongue thrust up hard against her, his fingers thrust even harder inside of her, and Alex shouted wordlessly, racked with ecstasy.
She lay boneless and limp on the bed, gasping for air. She finally managed to focus on him; he was standing beside the bed staring at her supine body—she was naked from the waist down, her tunic and gilet rucked up high enough to expose her breasts. He was stepping out of his trousers, but his eyes never left her. Shamelessly Alex looked at him, at every inch of his thin but muscular body, at his huge, fully engorged manhood. Her pulse was racing again. She could feel her own sex throbbing.
The corners of his lips seemed to curl. “I want you.”
Alex wanted him, too. But as he came down on the bed beside her she caught his arm, preventing him from moving on top of her as he wished to do. For one moment she held his eye, and then, her heart beating very fast, she leaned over him and nudged his penis with her face.
He froze.
“Let me,” she whispered hoarsely. Her breath feathered him.
“Alexandra,” he choked.
Alex slid down the bed, her tongue flicking out, over the plumlike tip. He gasped.
And then she rolled onto her back, her hands clutching his hips, guiding him up and over her. Beneath him, his knees on each side of her arms, she kissed the base.
