Then his soft lips teased mine, his beard tickling my skin, heightening my need, his tongue stroking the crease between my lips as if urging me to let him in. “Open your mouth,” he coaxed. Parting my lips, I sucked in a breath when the tip of his tongue rimmed the shape of my lips. He lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine. “Don’t resist. Just let my tongue dance with yours.” His breathing turned shallow.
I licked my lips. My throat suddenly parched as his mouth slowly descended again then I heard myself inhale on a harsh breath before his lips gently covered mine with a soft kiss that felt pretty—if pretty had a feeling. It started slow and sweet, spiraling heat through my chest and spine. I moaned. The tip of his tongue flicked mine in gentle invitation. My hands fisted my dress, shocked by my body’s reaction and the dull throb between my thighs.
Xavier added more pressure, his tongue probing my mouth, stroking against my tongue. My groan louder, I wasn’t prepared for his taste—a mixture of mint and whiskey or the press of his fingers into the flesh at my neck while his tongue delved into my mouth. A forceful display of possession, stealing every breath of oxygen from my lungs, twisting my insides, and setting my body on fire.
Gripped by the seduction, I caught his tongue and sucked on it. Xavier groaned, shifting behind me. I felt his hardened erection press into my back. Startled by the thickness, my lids flew open. He pulled back, his eyes lingering on me, our breathing equally deep.
“More,” I whispered, my body trembling.
Trapped by those beautifully aroused eyes, the breath hitched in my throat when his free hand climbed to my breast. I closed my eyes as a finger rimmed my hardened nipple, and I moaned, aching for him to touch the bud.
His chuckle stung the tiny hairs at my nape to attention. “That’s it, love, feel it.”
I didn’t recognize those loud pants coming from me. Then he pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I bit my lip, trying not to cry out from the pleasure shooting through my body. He did the same to the other. I arched my back in response, moaning out loud.
“Where does it hurt, Ella?” I opened my eyes to look at him, suddenly shy. “Tell me,” he coaxed.
“Between my legs,” I replied, blushing.
“Pink looks good on you.” He chuckled.” Do you want the ache to stop?” He blew warm air over my ear.
I shivered. “Yes.”
The sound of someone approaching had Xavier lowering his hands. Disappointed, I moved to get up. He kept me in place with an arm around my stomach as John walked out.
“Sir, you have a call. It’s the Defense Minister.”
“Thank you, John. I’ll take it in my study,” Xavier replied.
“Very well, sir.”
When John left, Xavier cupped my chin and tilted my head. His lips were soft and warm as they moved over mine, relieving me of the distress that I’d overstepped, quickly reigniting that inexplicable heat between my legs. His tongue coaxing mine to dance alongside his once more, I whimpered when he lifted me onto his lap and his hard-on pressed into the underside of my thigh. Keeping me against him, he stood, his mouth still latched onto mine. When my feet touched the ground, he pulled back, smiling.
“I’ll see you later.” He rubbed his nose against mine.
As he walked away, I looked at the pool, touching my lips. They felt swollen and warm, yet they had nothing on the butterflies doing circles in my stomach or that burn between my legs. My smile came easily, the flush to my cheeks even quicker when I turned to find Xavier still at the door, watching me as though he had plans for me. The fire between my legs flamed, slowly moving up my body.
Was it wrong to hope he’d act on them? Was it wrong to ask him to?
Then he winked and disappeared.
Pacing the pool area took ten minutes before I walked away without direction. I realized my feet had unconsciously carried me toward his study when I heard Xavier's voice. Standing inside his open door, I bit my lip and looked at him. Reclined on his seat with his ankles crossed on the table, he rubbed his brow while talking on the phone.
About to leave, I took a step back as he glanced up. He held up a finger, pausing my movement before he dropped his feet to the floor, gesturing for me to come closer. Bottom lip between my teeth, I neared his desk and watched him write something down on paper, wishing I could do that too.
He put down the phone and looked at me. “Are you okay?”
My neck felt warm from the memory of his kiss. “Um.” I had no idea what I planned to say or why I came looking for him.
“Come here.”
I walked around the table and looked down at him. “I want to belong to you,” the words slipped out, unsure how else to say what I felt or ask for what I needed.
“Why?”
I struggled to find the correct answer, wishing for someone to explain love and relationships to me. “If you belong to someone, it means they love you,” I replied, hoping my answer wouldn’t anger him.
His eyes roved over my face before he moved me to stand in the space within his spread thighs and leaned my arse against the table’s edge. “You don’t need to belong to a man, Ella. Ownership is not love.” He touched my chin. “And you don’t need sex to make a man love you. What you need from him is intimacy.”
