There were none of the usual preliminaries, and never had she orgasmed from nothing but being entered. Pleasure jolted through her on sharp contractions.
“Did I say you could come so quick?” he asked roughly.
His fingers slipped round her hip. He took her clit between his thumb and forefinger in a hard pinch. Another sharp jolt of pleasure shook her. She gasped, tense again, tantalized. Tormented already by the slow withdrawal and then slam of his cock.
“Slower this time, please.” He rotated his hips in lazy circles, still pinching her clit almost unbearably.
Slower? She’d laugh if she could. What woman got told to slow down on the orgasm front—wasn’t it usually the guy who was growled at for coming too quickly?
But Xander didn’t. Xander had the control of a superman, no doubt about that. The endurance. The stamina.
Her thighs trembled. He put his other hand on her shoulder and lessened the pinch on her clit, then soothingly stroked the plumped, pulsing nub.
How could he maintain such control? Wasn’t holding off from coming just about killing him?
“I’ve been thinking about this all damn day,” he said harshly.
So had she. She groaned as he flicked his fingers faster, raining light beats on her clit. The sensation competed with the pounding rhythm of his cock. She cried out as her next orgasm hit, the contractions strong and devastating, rippling through her as he relentlessly played her—not releasing her from his driving touch.
The heat scalded her. She tipped forward onto the desk completely, unable to support herself on her arms. Her breasts were flattened, the cool hard wood rubbed her tight nipples, exciting her even more. Trapped between the proverbial rock and the hard place—at his mercy, at his pleasure. And she loved it.
“Nothing turns me on more than making you come.” His words were almost lost in the rough, low choke.
Oh it was the same for her. She wanted him to come. Wanted him to lose control. Wanted to feel ecstasy rigorously yank his body to a level where he couldn’t stop. But there wasn’t much she could do in this position to force him other than work her inner muscles to milk him.
As she did he gripped her hips with both hands. Tight. His fingers dug into her flesh as he ruthlessly held her in place. He drove hard and deep and fast for another few strokes before he thrust hard one last time. The searing tension was audible in his loud groan and evident in the sharp spasms of his cock as he came deep inside.
A soft moment later he also stretched his arms over her desk so he lightly blanketed her. He kissed her shoulders. “Let’s take a bath. Make it wetter this time.”
Still dazed, it took a second to hear him. She stilled as he lifted away from her.
“Not a shower?” she asked softly.
But he’d already gone. She could hear the taps running in her bathroom. The sensual warmth left her as she followed the sounds.
He’d found some kind of bubble mixture from somewhere and made the bath a froth of white and rainbows. Anyone normal would think it was gorgeous and playful and be ready. But she wasn’t normal. Not about this.
He looked at her, his brows lifted. “You don’t want to have a bath with me?”
He was naked. Glorious. And she should, she really knew she should. But she couldn’t. The thought of being submerged again? She couldn’t do it.
“I’d prefer a shower,” she whispered.
He looked at her for what felt like forever. He didn’t blink—nor did she.
He said nothing, he just watched, waiting. Did he think she was going to say something more?
She couldn’t. Her throat had tightened—all but closed over. All lingering relaxed relief from that quick sex was gone. All that was left, was cold.
Finally he turned and pulled the plug from the bath. “Sure.”
She exhaled, but remained on edge. Because he didn’t smile. Didn’t make some light joke.
Instead he walked right up close to her. “Would you prefer to shower alone?”
She swallowed. Nodded. Tried not to come across as the damaged woman she was. This was only supposed to be easy. “I’ll be quick.” She tried, but her words were little more than a stained whisper.
He shook his head. “Take your time, I’ve got some stuff I need to do tonight anyway.”
“Okay.”
Chelsea remained frozen just inside the bathroom door. Two minutes later he’d left her apartment.
And she wasn’t sure he’d be coming back.
Chapter Twelve
Xander lifted his hand to knock on Chelsea’s door. Work had been a washout today, he’d hardly thought of anything other than her since the bath incident the night before. She hadn’t offered any explanation, but he needed to know. Okay, he already knew but he wished he didn’t. Because he wanted, needed, her to tell him. That mightn’t be part of their agreement, but too bad.
She was like the ultimate Groundhog Day present—getting to open her up night after night was a pleasure he anticipated from the moment he left her. Only now, heaven help him, he wanted to open up all her secret compartments. He wanted to see her sleep easy. Smile easy. Speak easy.
He knocked. She answered almost immediately. Her wary eyes widened when she saw it was him. She licked her lips quick—nervously. Instinctively he smiled at her, open and warm and reassuring. And eventually, as she looked up at him, her pale face flushed with a more normal color. An answering smile dawned on her full lips. And then it came—that sparkle of devilish anticipation flickered in her eyes.
But she said nothing.
He knew she was waiting—wanting—his instruction. But he wasn’t going there. Yet.
“Come out with me,” he said.
Her eyes instantly narrowed. “Out?” she repeated. “Where?”
“It’s a surprise,” he drawled.
She folded her arms beneath her curvy breasts. “I don’t like surprises.”
“Sure you do.” He grinned, happy she was making a stand. It meant she was more relaxed.
She glanced away and then back at him. He wondered if she was going to resist more seriously or, even better, come up with an alternative offer of her own. But he guessed she’d do neither.
It wasn’t that she was totally passive. If he put his finger in her mouth she sucked on it hard. She spread for him to take her only to then clench hot and fast and lock him in place. Her hands skimmed, teased, caressed him as he moved over her. She was absolutely into it. And he could tell from the sparkle in her eyes that she was thinking all kinds of things. There was so much going on in that brain of hers.
But she still didn’t instigate. The only time she’d verbally expressed a preference was about the bath last night and that hadn’t been a sensual request, that had come from fear. And though she was already generous, he knew she had more to give.
He wanted it—her secrets, her desires.
But for now, in bed and in this whole arrangement, she still needed him to take the lead. So he’d make it simple for her.
“If you want to come tonight,” he said, casually resting a shoulder on her door frame. “You’ll come with me now.”
“And if I don’t?”
Flames licked at his lower belly at the tiny hint of defiance in her tone. Yeah, he wanted to see her spirit finally come free. “No more fantasies. No more orgasms. Your choice.”
“You can give it up that easy?” she asked, sceptically raising her brows. “After only a few nights?”
He grinned. She was calling him on it.
Her arms tightened beneath her breasts and he couldn’t help noticing her nipples poking hard through her tank top. He glanced back up and encountered her stern look.
“You’re that confident,” she almost snarled.
“Let me show you why.” He straightened and pulled her close, boldly sliding his fingers under her skirt and up to the crotch of her silky panties. “You’re already wet for me,” he whispered. “Just as I’m already hard for you. I only have to think of you to get like this. So seeing you? Getting this close to you?” He shook his head. “Just hurry the hell up.”
Her eyes glinted, her chin lifted.
Go on. He willed her. Fight me. Challenge me. Dare me.
But she didn’t. She pushed away from him, turned and grabbed her handbag.
How was it possible to be satisfied and frustrated at the same time? Restraining his frustration, Xander double-checked her apartment was locked as they left. But he knew biding his time wasn’t possible. He was going to have to push a little harder. Take a little more. Demand a little more. Help a little more.
He led her to a cab and eyed her wickedly throughout the journey—refusing to answer the curiosity in her eyes. If she wasn’t going to ask, he wasn’t going to tell. And as much as this was a test of how things stood, it was also a game. Aggravating and thrilling.
She smiled blandly as the cab pulled up outside Rocco’s hotel but she still said nothing. She’d noticed the bag slung over his shoulder but hadn’t asked about that either. Determined not to cross boundaries, huh?
Too bad.
He led her to the lift, pushing the button once inside. She read the destination next to the number and stiffened.
“Relax.” He rolled his eyes to make light of it. “I thought you might like to watch a game,” he murmured. “You seemed to like looking at me in the water the other day.”