The hell with oxygen—who needed it, anyway, she deliberated with herself. All that mattered in life was this feeling, this incredible sensation that was pulsing wickedly throughout her body. Did he have something special on the pads of his fingers? How did it know how and where to rotate on her clit? How did it know just when to speed up or slow down to maximize and intensify these sensations?
If ever there was a manual on how to operate or pleasure a woman’s body, Cheryl was convinced that Xavier had memorized the damn thing. He was doing so much by doing very little so far. How in the world was she going to handle it when he finally joined their bodies together? Was she going to be literally climbing the ceiling? Could that cliché actually be true, too?
Before she could mentally answer herself, an amazing wave started rising. Once again, she was dizzy, but was unsure whether it was from her lack of oxygen or the amazing feeling swirling inside of her. But she knew what was coming. She even foolishly tried to prepare herself. But in the scheme of things, who can really prepare for a tsunami?
As soon as that first wave hit, Cheryl finally gasped for air and her body arched high off the bed. In the next second, she was sure that she was drowning inside as wave after wave hit her hard. While she was trying to survive the tidal waves, Xavier’s mouth finished waxing her breasts and started its descent down the center of her body. Just when she realized that she was, in fact, going to survive the flood, everything spun back out of whack when Xavier’s mouth found a new home and latched around her pulsing clit.
Thrashing her head back and forth across the pillow, tears of pleasure slowly leaked from the corners of her eyes. Her moans and sighs were lost in the sounds of the music still pumping from the party outside, which was a good thing because surely under normal circumstances someone would have stormed the room by now to make sure that she wasn’t being possessed by a sexual demon of some kind.
She wasn’t so sure that she wasn’t possessed.
Xavier’s tongue slapped, spanked and punished her clit like it owed him money or something. There was just no break from the onslaught of sensations and Cheryl was beginning to think that she had bitten off more than she could chew by climbing into bed with this man. What would happen if she just couldn’t keep up? Could she wave a white flag—issue a rain check?
Another wave started to build. Cheryl thrashed and tried to pull away from Xavier’s feeding frenzy, but his muscular arms slid underneath and then locked around her thighs, easily holding her in place. The wave rolled toward her. In a desperate bid to save herself, Cheryl reached between her legs and tried to pull his head away from her open legs, but it was like trying to move a mountain.
It wasn’t happening.
Her moans and sighs heightened, transforming her normally alto voice into a soprano. Then pow! The vision behind her closed eyelids went completely white. There was no color at all—and it was so blinding and all-consuming that she wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that she had actually died. Which, given all the ways one could leave the earth, she would’ve considered herself rather lucky.
A minute later things finally started to come back into focus and she couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt more mellow and contented in all her life. When she could finally focus on the man that was lying in between her legs, his face wet with her dew, she sat up and pulled him into a soul-stirring kiss.
Xavier’s breathing was as hard and choppy as the incredible woman’s before him. The pleasure of sharing her sweet taste gave him a wild thrill, especially since she seemed to get off just as much as he did. While he stretched her back across the bed, he reached down with one hand and removed his briefs. His cock sprang straight up and slapped against the soft wet hairs guarding her sweet pussy. Now that he’d had a taste of her true essence, he knew that he was now and forever an addict.
The plan was to hike up her legs and ease into her, but Cheryl had other ideas and it was only gentlemanly of him to let her lead for a while.
Cheryl rolled Xavier over onto his back and started her own little payback plan. She tattooed a series of kisses across his strong jawline, his thick neck and, of course, the wide span of his chest. When she reached his chiseled six-pack, she had the delightful pleasure of watching his muscles quiver just as she had done for him. When she finally worked her way down to his thick shaft, which stood as hard and straight as a black obelisk, she didn’t just try to inhale him.
No.
Instead, she convinced herself to take her time, teasing him by raining small kisses around his lower belly and down his strong thighs. She experienced a surge of power, listening to his breathing as it slowed—and she was sure that he thought his butt was being slick when he tried to nudge his cock toward her face. On the third time he tried, she cut him a small break and peppered just a few kisses along the side of his shaft, but then she moved her head to continue her own thing.
Xavier laughed. “Oooh. I’m going to pay you back for that,” he promised.
Cheryl smiled, but acted like she didn’t hear him. The next time she passed by, she gently blew air across the tip and watched him squirm.
“Oh, my God,” he groaned. “You’re driving me crazy.”
“That’s the point,” she whispered.
He folded his arms behind his head. “Oh, is that right?”
She nodded and blew another breath of air, and since it was standing up between them, they both watched as his muscles contracted, making his cock jump up and down on its own. Cheryl laughed.
“You’re evil,” he said.
“Evil, huh?” She arched up a brow. “So what will you think if I do this?” She rolled out her tongue and flicked it across the top of his enlarged head.
Xavier’s stomach muscles clenched while he sucked in a sharp breath, but before he could exhale, she did it again.
And then again.
Just when he was sure that he was about to go out of his mind and grab her so that he could end this insane torture, Cheryl’s full lips and mouth stretched wide open before lowering over his cock. When she sank her head down as far as she could go, Xavier nearly sat up straight at the tight fit at the back of her throat. In no time, she had set this incredibly slow pace of sucking him in and out of her mouth.
Xavier couldn’t curl his hands and toes tight enough and it seemed like a total waste of time trying to steady his breathing. This was happening to a man who’d spent years training his body to do what he wanted it to do. Now, every cell in his body had declared mutiny and he was in real danger of shooting off waaaay too soon.
“That’s enough,” he decided, grabbing her by the shoulders and lifting her up.
“But I wasn’t finished,” she complained, giggling.
“Oh, yes, you were,” he said, pressing her onto her back and claiming the top position. “You think your ass is slick, don’t you?” He parted her legs.
“I’m sure that I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh. We’ll just see about that.” He pulled her legs up, completely lifting her lower body off the bed so that he could hook her knees over his shoulders as he leaned over. He dispensed a little mercy when he first pressed his cock at the apex of her pussy. He didn’t just thrust in with one good stroke, but instead eased his way through her warm silky walls so that her body could slowly adjust to his size. Turned out that it might have been mercy for her, but it was pure torture for him. So much so that his chest felt like it was seconds from collapsing—the way the body compresses when suddenly plunged to the depths of the ocean.
Apparently, Cheryl worked out more than just the muscles that were visible to the naked eye. “How do you feel?” she asked as she squeezed her vaginal muscles tight around his shaft.
Xavier’s mouth slid open, but no words—at least, no intelligible words—fell from his lips.
“You can’t tell me how you feel, baby?” she asked, squeezing him tighter, which threatened to give him the orgasm that he was trying his best to delay.
Oh, no. I can’t go out like this. Xavier dropped his head and tried to muster up enough stamina to hang in there.
“I can’t hear you, X-Man.” She relaxed a bit so that he could slide in farther. But before he was all the way in, she tightened up again.
He hissed out the Lord’s name and resumed panting like a man who’d just completed a marathon. There were no if’s, and’s or but’s about it, Cheryl was running this show and she was certainly about to teach him a thing or two.
Cheryl watched his forehead become slick with sweat while she tightened and released him at her leisure. She knew that he was fighting not to come too soon and, if she wanted, she could make him lose that fight.
That was if she wanted.
“Kiss me,” she said, and then waited for his lips to find hers. Only when she could taste him did she relax her muscles enough for him to take temporary control. She had no complaints when he filled her up completely or about the rhythm he set sliding in and out of her body. However, she did underestimate her own body’s reaction to his. Once again, she had lost control of her breathing and her thinking and in no time had torn her lips away from his so that she could beg him to make her come.
That was a mistake.
It was his payback time and he refused to let her come until he was ready for her to come. “Flip over,” he ordered, pulling out and stroking himself while he waited.
Cheryl scrambled as fast as she could, but received a quick slap on the butt when she apparently took too long.
He chuckled at the way her bottom bounced, so he smacked the other cheek so that he could watch as it jiggled again. “You’re going to have to move much faster than that, baby. Get on your knees.”
Smiling, she hesitated a second, just so that he would warm her butt with another stinging smack. Cheryl didn’t even want to admit how much she loved that. Of course it was only second to how much she loved feeling him sinking into her from the back. From then on, they were making the bed jump and bounce hard against the wall.
Whenever she got cocky and started to control the rhythm, Xavier delivered another hard smack against her upturned cheeks. In no time at all her ass was on fire and the headboard was making some major dents in the wall. Pound for pound, Cheryl and Xavier were each other’s match. She didn’t know how many orgasms she’d had; she lost count. All Xavier knew was that he’d never met anyone like Cheryl before. He’d certainly never been with anyone who made him feel what he was feeling now.
By the time he collapsed onto the bed, he was a sweaty mess and was in some serious need of vitamins and Gatorade. They were only going to close their eyes for a moment. After all, they were in someone else’s home. But exhaustion snuck up on both of them and the minutes turned into hours.
Chapter 11
Cheryl’s eyes sprang open.
Since she didn’t recognize the lamp on the nightstand or even the nightstand itself, she concluded that the wild night of sweaty sex with Xavier King hadn’t been a dream. At that moment she would have liked for it to have been a dream, because it would have meant that she hadn’t compromised her undercover investigation, or what little morality and ethics she had left. She glanced down at the muscular arm draped around her waist and sighed with disappointment in herself.
This was waaaaay worse than sleeping with her lieutenant. But as images of last night started floating back to her, the assessment seemed a bit harsh. Still, it was a bad decision. Now I just have to hope that no one ever finds out. With it being so far from Christmas, Cheryl wasn’t about to hold her breath on that one.
As slowly and quietly as she could, Cheryl lifted Xavier’s arm up and rolled from underneath him and then climbed out of bed.
“My clothes, my clothes. Where are my clothes?” she mumbled under her breath while she frantically searched around the room. There was one shoe under the bed, her jeans flung behind a vanity and…was that her panties circulating on the ceiling fan?
Good Lord, Cheryl!
For a brief moment, she debated whether to climb up on the bed and try to retrieve them. She’d rather not, but there was just something about leaving a pair of her good panties rotating on the blades of a ceiling fan in some celebrity’s house that screamed “ho” to her. Cheryl cursed under her breath as she once again tried to be as quiet as she possibly could. She climbed back onto the bed and reached up to snatch her panties down from the fan blade. While she was up there, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye.
Is that my bra?
She squinted as she looked at the top of the oak armoire, and sure enough, there it was dangling from the side. “How on earth did that get over there?” Realizing that she had spoken too loudly, Cheryl slapped her hand over her mouth and glanced at the bed.
Xavier moaned and shifted.
Cheryl held her breath, but her heart started to sink when she watched as Xavier’s hand searched the empty space where she was supposed to be. Please go back to sleep. Please go back to sleep.
Xavier’s head popped up off the pillow.
If it wasn’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.
He looked around, confusion contorting his face. Then he turned and spotted her standing on the bed nude, with her panties clutched in her hands.
“Good morning. Don’t you look—” his eyes roamed over her body “—breathtaking.”
You don’t look bad your damn self. Cheryl flashed him an awkward smile. “Morning.”
When she didn’t follow up with an explanation of what she was doing, he asked. “Trying out a new position or…is this just something you do first thing in the morning?”
“I…”
The bedroom door bolted open and Quentin and a gold-digging diva from last night’s party stumbled inside.
“C’mon on, baby. We…” The couple’s eyes widened at the sight in front of them.
Cheryl silently screamed and dived back into the bed and tossed the sheets over her head so fast that she looked like a blur to everyone. She cringed when she heard Q’s shotgun laughter.
“Well, all right, X-Man.”
“Back it up, Q,” Xavier said. “I’ll holler at you later.”
“What? You don’t need me to referee or anything?” Quentin chuckled, backing out of the room. “’Cause it looked like, at any second, your girl is about to take your head off.”
“Out!”
Quentin tossed up his hands. “All right. All right. I’m going, you lucky dog.”
Cheryl slapped a hand across her face and was sure that she was just going to die of humiliation. But it wasn’t over just yet.
“Bye, Cheryl,” Q called out to her.
“Bye,” she said flatly from underneath the covers.
“Okay, now will you get out,” Xavier said, irritation evident in his voice.
Still chuckling, Quentin said, “I’m out.”
Finally, Cheryl heard the door close and she quickly tossed the covers off of her head and scrambled back out of the bed. “I can’t believe this.”
Xavier sat up. “Wait. It’s okay. He’s gone now.”
Cheryl stormed over to the armoire and snatched her bra down and started getting dressed.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” She jammed her legs through her panties and jerked them up.
“Yeah, but why? You don’t have to leave just yet.”
“What the hell are you talking about? This isn’t even your place. Or is this just something that you’re used to doing after these wild bachelor parties? You and your horny cousin!”
“What?” Xavier bounced out of the bed just as she was snapping on her bra. “You think that I do this all the time?”
She stopped and jammed her hands on her hips. “Don’t you? Or are you going to tell me that you’ve never slept with women who attend these things. A stripper, a groupie or a bartender? Ever?”
Xavier’s mouth fell open, but he couldn’t get a denial past his lips.
“Yeah. I thought so.” She marched around him and grabbed her jeans.
“Wait. So I’m the bad guy now?”
“I didn’t say that,” she snapped, trying her best not to start ogling him. He was naked, after all. “Look. I’m just as much at fault for what happened last night—if not more so.” She grabbed her shirt. “To tell you the truth, I just want to forget that the whole thing even happened.”
At that, Xavier reached out and grabbed her by the arm. “What the hell do you mean?”
“Just what I said.” Cheryl jerked her arm free. “Last night was a mistake. Surely you realize that. You’re my boss.”
“Okay.” He folded his arms. “But we’re also two mature adults, who, in my humble opinion, had experienced something…extraordinary last night.”
“Uh-huh.” She pulled her shirt down over her head. “It was more like we were two people at a celebrity bachelor party who got horny and decided to fuck each other because we weren’t thinking clearly.”
Xavier’s expression twisted. “Maybe I should be asking you how often you have done something like this.”
“Why? Would it mean something more just because I’m a woman? It’s all right for men to sleep around, but not women?”
“Whoa. Whoa. Where is all of this coming from?”
“It’s coming from a place of regret. And I regret everything about last night. Not because I didn’t enjoy it, but because it was wrong.” She resumed her search around the room. “Now, where is my other shoe?”
“Damn. Do you always sharpen that tongue first thing in the morning?”
Cheryl sucked in a breath and tried to rein in her anger. “Look. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself. I know better than this. Sleeping with a colleague…let alone your boss, is never a good idea. Nothing good can come out of it. So, for me, can’t we just pretend like last night didn’t happen?”
Xavier looked at her like he’d never met her before. “I’m not sure that I can do that—or if I even want to.”
King's Promise Page 11
