by Logan Chance
Or use my body as a tool to help me get the information to Xavier’s ‘plan’ for myself.
And maybe, if I have any input or think it’s a bad idea, he’ll listen to me. I just need to remind myself getting close to him is about information, and not because I can’t stand not being around him.
It's so hard to have been fucked within an inch of your sheltered life, and then stand before that person, wondering if you're supposed to pretend it didn't happen. Dressed in the sparkly blue evening gown and heels he lusted after, that's exactly what I do.
He looks like a tall sex god in his black Armani tuxedo with his dark hair perfectly rumpled. All of this makes it even harder because I now know he is a sex god.
“Where are we going?” I ask, casually, as he leads me through the front door to a waiting black Benz.
“Do you like the opera?”
My head whips to him. “You kidnapped me to take me to the opera?”
He cracks a smile. “No, but, I do have an associate I need to meet with there.” Then, his face grows serious. “So, no funny business tonight.”
I smile, wondering if he’s talking about attempted escapes and not bedroom funny business instead. “Scouts honor, I won’t run,” I say, sliding into the back of the car.
He quirks a brow before folding his tall body in beside me. “You’re still not a scout.”
I laugh a little to cover the nerves roiling in my belly when he sits close enough for his broad shoulder to graze against mine. “Promise, no running,” I tell him.
He studies my face for a moment, determining if I am in fact telling the truth. “Good.”
“I feel very Pretty Womanish tonight,” I admit, changing the subject.
“You look like her a little, with the wild auburn hair and brown eyes.” His blue eyes undress me. “But, you’re way prettier, like hot-as-fuck woman.”
I laugh. “Did you just make a joke?”
“Not joking at all,” he smirks.
The driver pulls away, maneuvering through the traffic congested streets, toward, I guess, the opera.
This all feels very much like a date. My first date, actually, now that I think about it. Losing my virginity at MECA wasn't to a boyfriend. No, it was to a hipster guy from my class, at a clambake party, just to get rid of it. The second time, same guy, was just to say the cherry popping wasn't my only experience. So, no wooing or dating ever took place.
We pull up in front of the LA Opera, and
Xavier clutches my hand, leading me through a mob of people trying to get inside before the curtain lifts. We’re seated upstairs in our own private box, complete with our very own bottle of Cristal. I let out a deep breath of air. It’s exciting.
“Having a good time?” His thumb strokes lazy circles on my hand.
“Yes,” I say, truthfully.
“During the second act, someone will join us in here, and I’ll have a brief meeting with him.” He releases my hand. “Just enjoy the show and don’t pay attention to us.”
My mind spins with this information. Has he met me? That's like asking me not to breathe, but I smile. “No problem. You won't even know I'm here.”
He grins a little sexy, mischievous grin. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you have a very good first act.”
The luxurious box shrinks to the size of a die. I blush. I'm not used to the overt sexuality. Actually, what I'm not used to is how much I like it.
And then before I know it, his hand wraps around my neck, and his lips are on mine. And he’s kissing me. And, my god, what a kiss. Every kiss is like the first time. I fear for a few seconds someone will see, but then the lights go down and a sweet melody wafts through the building.
Before the damsel in distress can even belt out her first chorus, Xavier pulls me closer and his hand lands on my thigh. Lust charges through me, and everything that could ever be right in this moment is.
Heaven and hell could crash into one another, and I wouldn’t notice.
Xavier’s hand traces the outside of my dress, over my legs, and then swoops underneath to travel his way up to the promised land. His diligent fingers trace the lining of my already soaked panties, and I am more than happy to give him a direct one-way ticket there. All signs point north. No passing go.
His kisses keep coming. Hungry, out-of-breath, torturing kisses all meant for me.
He growls against the base of my ear.
“You drive me insane, Rhi. Do you know how bad I want to rip your clothes off and have you ride my face until you’re screaming louder than the singers on stage?”
My nipples pebble at his words, straining for attention, crying to be free. A scorching, hot-heat travels through my bones, incinerating all common sense, and all I can think about is Xavier making me come. And oh, how bad I want him to. So very bad.
“Do you think you can make me scream that loud?” I ask as the woman hits a high note full of longing. More than anything, I want to hit my very own high note right along with her.
“Oh, I know I can.” Xavier slides a finger through my wetness, stroking back and forth before pushing it inside me. “And for the finale, I’d make sure to have you on all fours—panting, breathless, and begging for more of my thick cock inside you.”
And it is thick; he's not exaggerating. I moan. I don’t want him to stop, but we’re at the opera for God’s sake.
Xavier doesn’t care, he keeps thrumming me like his very own orchestra. Playing all the instruments in harmony. And I’m the star. The star who’s just about ready to come all over this beautiful man’s hand.
“Are you going to come for me, Rhi?”
“Yes, please, don’t stop.”
The sensations build and build, and I bear down on his hand, grinding and rocking.
“I want to watch your face when you come. Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”
I no longer care the place is packed with hundreds of people. All I care about is this moment, with this man I’ve been missing for far too long. He didn't have to take me; he owns every part of me. My body. My heart. My soul. All his.
His thumb circles my tender clit, racing in time with the music, with his expert finger so deep inside me. Working me over. And under. Every direction known to man. It’s insane how much I feel right now.
Everything I’ve bottled away for so long, breaks free with his possessive touch.
“Xavier,” I moan, unable to say anything else, overwhelmed with feelings as the voice on the stage sings about heartache.
He doesn’t relent, keeps finger fucking me as if he’s never enjoyed anything more.
“Are you going to come on my hand? Or do you need me to kneel down and suck your sweet pussy into my mouth and get you off with my tongue?”
The power of words. My brain is completely useless now.
My heart races to the tempo of what's happening on stage.
“You’re so hot when you come. Let me see you. Open your eyes.”
I raise my lids, engulfed by the heated haze settling over his irises. He’s so turned on.
My hands brace his cheeks, letting his fire burn me. The intimacy I feel right now is out of this world. It’s like its own planet. Solar system. No, universe.
Three dangerous words pop into my head, but I swallow them down as my world spirals so close to that pivotal moment when I’ll lose myself completely.
I'm not going to last long, but I try to hold out, not wanting this to end just yet.
Unable to handle the intensity of his stare, I tilt him closer and our hungry lips meet. He moans into my mouth. And I catch every word he silently speaks to me as the voice on stage laments a lost love.
And then I lose control. I buck against his hand, as his tongue plunges deeper into my mouth. Cries of pure ecstasy fly out of my mouth and he catches them with ease with his. Every nerve ending stands at attention, and then crashes back again as the theatre thunders with applause. Xavier smiles when he releases the kiss, and then, he does the most unexpected—he brings
his lips to place a gentle kiss on both my eyelids, my forehead, and one on each cheek.
Almost as if he worships my face. I’m too stunned to move. To stunned to breath as my body fights for control.
He removes his hand from under my very expensive dress, a dress bought to enjoy a show I haven’t even watched one minute of and brings his fingers to his lips. And he sucks. He sucks my release from his fingers.
My eyes watch him closely.
“Later, I want this dripping down my tongue.”
“Maybe if you use those bargaining skills.”
His leans close to my ear. “Oh, I’ll bargain, lie, cheat, steal, beg. I have no shame for what I’m willing to do to taste you tonight.”
“That can most definitely be arranged.”
My insides do this weird flutter thing as I try to focus my attention to the man now on stage. He sings a sad song in Italian. The emotions overcome me, and I close my eyes, reliving the last few minutes of pure bliss.
The second act starts, and right on cue, the door behind us opens. Xavier turns slightly in his chair to speak in hushed tones with an older man with graying hair. I try my hardest to hear what they are saying. The man in the fancy suit, and glasses too large for his tiny face, nods and leaves just as quickly as he entered.
Now what? Do we go back to our dysfunction?
As if he can read my every thought, his hand ends up on my upper thigh.
And I get that mushy feeling again. Like my heart is expanding and about to burst from just having his hand on me. It’s just a hand. But the swarm of eagles Xavier always seems to produce, takes flight in my stomach when his thumb lazily makes small circles along the diaphanous material of my dress.
I need to get control of myself, or the next act, I’ll be riding him and his impressive dick all the way into the ending of the show. And I kind of think that’s what I’d rather be doing.
Clearly, I’m losing my mind, and honestly, I want to go out of my mind in peace. Without him here touching me.
The things I almost said to him. The promises that were on the tip of my tongue when he brought my body to climax makes my eyes well with tears. The lights go up.
Intermission.
I stand and rush from my seat, telling Xavier I’ll be right back.
Like a flood, people begin to seep out into the marble foyer, and I sweep past them and find the nearest...anything.
Xavier is hot on my heels, but I’m not running to escape him this time, just these feelings.
I find a bathroom and step inside a stall, brace my hands on the wall, and take a deep, cleansing breath.
I almost told him I love him.
And I probably do.
28
Xavier
Rhiannon steps into a women’s room, and I wait patiently outside. ‘Patiently’ is a stretch considering I'm pacing like a goddamn jungle cat.
She didn’t hear anything I said in my meeting, did she? No, I made sure to keep my voice low. Besides with all the screaming on stage, I’m certain she didn’t hear a thing.
I’ve never liked the opera, but it’s such a convenient place to conduct business you don’t want other people to know you’re conducting.
In this town of crooks and wannabes, it’s hard to have a moment’s peace.
Mainly, it’s the paparazzi.
While taking pictures of the newest celebrity who got famous for having a big ass, and marrying a rapper, they might capture a trade or exchanging of money or overhear a conversation. Something they weren’t looking for but thank their lucky stars they found, because the payout is always higher.
Most get thrown up on gossip rags, and you see two associates you had no clue did business, there and doing business. Most of the time, my men pick up on those things long before it even makes it to the printer.
I adjust my cufflink as Rhiannon finally makes her way from the safety of the restroom. She looks like a tiny little fish in her blue gown, swimming her way right into the open mouth of a piranha. And I am hungry for her.
God, watching her come up there, with my fingers deep inside her, and the way her mouth opened to let out the cries rising from way down inside her throat. Let’s just say, it made my already hard cock ten times more powerful.
The thoughts I had. Fuck. I thought about leaning her over the railing, entering her from behind. Sinking my cock into her balls deep. I thought about making her come all over me and grabbing her ass.
I don’t know, watching her come, it did something. Made my heart do this weird flip thing.
“Sorry, I just needed a minute,” she apologizes when she reaches me.
“I didn’t make you uncomfortable with my meeting, did I?” I should have never brought her along.
All times I conduct my business alone. I never bring along over-listening ears. I’m no idiot. And hell, I sure don’t need my lawyers passing out NDA’s to everyone I meet. Although they sure like to.
‘Nice to meet you sir’ a coffee guy would say, and there’s my lawyer, Stuart, with a document in hand ready to have him sign for even speaking to me.
But, I couldn't pass up the opportunity of having Rhiannon by my side.
She shakes her head, pale faced. “No, nothing like that.”
“Are you feeling ok?”
‘Cause honestly what else could be bugging her? Unless it’s me. Unless touching her and making her come wasn’t something she wanted.
She smiles, and, fuck, I forgot what I was thinking about. It’s a contagious kind of thing and I smile back. “I’m feeling fine,” she says. “Are you ready to watch the rest of the show?”
Am I? Sure, I can go back, sit in my seat, that’s entirely too far away from Rhiannon, and listen to people wail and belt out lyrics I don’t even fucking understand for another two hours, or I can take this prime piece of pussy home and open her up and taste that sweet honey she’ll have dripping between her thighs.
Yeah, I’ll take the latter.
Because pussy is always better. Always.
And mark my words, hear me roar, or whatever the kids of the world are saying these days, I fucking love pussy.
Not just any pussy…her pussy. It’s so pink, and her lips are tight, with a barely even there sweet patch of hair. It’s lickable. Like finger-lickin-good.
She stares at me for a beat, and I grab her hand. “I have another idea.”
Her eyes light up, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking, and I’m glad she does. I’m not trying to hide the fact that she drives me completely crazy. Like off the deep-end crazy.
“Lead the way, Mr. Stone.”
And I do lead the way, all through the high-energy streets of downtown LA, all the way back to my hidden castle in the hills.
Before I can even open my front door, it’s like my cock has a mind of its own. Like he loves her body just as much as I do. And well why shouldn’t he? She’s everything.
“No one’s here,” I say on a step. Closer and closer I move like a thief in the night.
“You promised begging,” she says with a deep breath.
I may not have much time left with her, and I want to make sure that well after she’s gone, I can bring these memories back to play over and over while I jerk off rapidly.
I planned on eating her out, and I’m a stickler about my plans. So, that’s my mission—my goal—as I stalk off in her direction, yanking at my tie.
“Come here.” I crook my finger.
She takes a step further back with a naughty-wicked smile teasing her lips.
Oh, fuck this girl. Damn she’s making me hot, and she doesn’t even know it.
Last night I was on fire, crazy with lust, tonight I want the slow burn of enjoying her. She deserves a man to take his time, to not rush. Even though that’s exactly what I want to do right now.
“What do you want?”
She licks her lips. “There was mention of you making me into a meal tonight.”
“I am very hungry.”
She
steps closer, moving over with her hips doing this sexy, painful-to-my-cock sashay thing.
“And what are you willing to give me in return?” she asks.
Right now, the answer would be anything and everything. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give to see her below me, taking my dick inside that beautiful pussy of hers. But, I can’t give in so easily. I can’t let her know since the moment I took her I’ve been wanting just that. That even after I did get her, it wasn’t enough.
“Oh, I think I can offer you a few orgasms tonight.”
She raises a brow. “Only a few?”
I smile, and then she smiles, and my heart skips a beat. And I want to promise her all the orgasms. All the things she wants.
“I’ll give you as many as your little heart desires.” I wrap my arms tight around her waist. “Hell, I’ll make you come so hard you can’t move. Then I’ll make you come so hard you can’t see. Then another until you can’t think properly.”
Her eyes meet mine. “I already can’t think properly around you.”
I want to say me too. I want to tell her she has my head so fucked up I can’t even say the words. So instead I kiss her, telling her with my lips what I can’t with my voice. She opens for me, and I feel like I’ve just been given the key to the city. Her city. With so many places to see and things to do.
Her neck.
Collar bone.
Tits.
Inner thigh.
She’s like the Orlando of cities with so many attractions. And instead of rushing around through the I-4 just glancing at things from the highway, I’m gonna get off at every exit, take my time exploring The City Beautiful and stake my claim all over.
My hands slide over her collarbone, up to her cheeks, and into the wild mass of auburn curls I love so much. I wrap my fist around every strand.
“I need to eat you out right here. Right now. I’m starving.”
I move her to the couch, trying my best to get to any part of her.
She falls onto the soft leather, and I’m on top of her in seconds. “Do you know how bad I want to dine on your tight pussy, and taste your dripping, hot come all over my tongue?”
