The Billionaire's Virgin(33)
“Are you sure about that?” He held her still as he brought her right in close, pressing her against the ridge of his rapidly hardening cock. The sensation nearly made him shudder. Jesus Christ, what the hell was he letting this woman do to him?
For the first time, a thin thread of unease wound through him. But since he was very good at not paying attention to uncomfortable emotions, he ignored it. An easy enough thing to do when he had an all-but-naked woman in his arms, her soft heat against his dick.
Her eyes had darkened into pure black, her lush, red mouth opening, and he had a very strong urge to cover it with his.
“I can’t . . .” she said thickly.
She’d said that before, when she’d told him she didn’t want to stay. That she couldn’t, because if she stayed, she wouldn’t want to go back. He’d noticed that same expression on her face when he’d given her his knife, too. A kind of yearning. As if she really wanted it, but couldn’t let herself have it.
“What about a kiss?” he murmured, watching her face. “I can give you that.”
She started shaking her head, but he reached up and took her chin between his finger and thumb, holding her still. “No, listen to me. No one can take a kiss from you, sweet thing. Once I’ve given it you, you get to keep it. It’s yours forever.”
She stared up at him, all dark eyes and long, thick black lashes.
He would have given his soul to know what she was thinking in that moment.
“I’ve . . .” She stopped then abruptly turned her head, trying to look away.
He firmed his grip so she couldn’t. “You’ve what?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Her color deepened even further. “I shouldn’t accept anything from you.”
He let his thumb stroke over the petal-soft skin of her jaw. “But what if I made you accept it? Like I made you get in my car and come up into my apartment. Like I’m keeping you here right now.”
Her lashes fluttered. Her stiffness had ebbed, one arm by her side, the other with her hand over his where he gripped her by the hip. She wasn’t trying to pull him away, her fingers only resting there lightly. Her gaze had dropped to his mouth again and this time, it stayed there.
He stroked her, feeling a fine tremble go through her. “In fact,” he went on, keeping his voice low and soft, and his gaze on her face, “what if you had no choice but to accept it? What if I held you so tight that you weren’t strong enough to push me away?” He lowered his head, watching her pupils dilate in response. But not with fear, he was certain. “If you couldn’t fight me. If I was too strong for you.” He went lower still, so his mouth was barely inches from hers. “If I was going to make you accept a kiss whether you wanted to or not.”
She was trembling now, up and down the length of her whole body. Her breath was coming faster too. He could hear it in the silence of the hallway.
Her gaze flicked up to his and he could see fear in it, but not only fear. There was confusion too, and something else, something it was clear she didn’t even recognize herself.
Xavier let go of her chin and slid his fingers into her hair, curling them around the back of her skull, cradling the back of her head in his palm. The black locks were just as soft as he’d imagined, just as silky and warm.
Her mouth opened, lush and red, but she didn’t say anything, wide black eyes on his, full of shock and so many other emotions he couldn’t untangle them all.
Are you really sure this is a good idea?
No, he wasn’t sure, not at all. But he didn’t care. He forgot about the ranch his father had just signed over to him. Forgot about his prick of a brother demanding Xavier give up the one thing he’d ever wanted. Forgot about the fact that even his own life wasn’t his.
Suddenly there was nothing in the whole world more important than kissing Mia.
“I’m going to take that kiss, sweet thing,” he warned. “And you can’t stop me.”
She didn’t stop him. Her body trembled and her breathing rushed in and out, but she didn’t try to push him away or pull out of his arms.
So he bent and closed that last inch, covering her mouth with his.
Restraint was foreign to him. He threw himself into everything he did most of the time and if he didn’t, it was because he didn’t enjoy it. And he tended not to do things he didn’t enjoy, not if he could help it.
But it was clear that kissing Mia was something he was going to enjoy very much indeed, and it took every ounce of will power he possessed not to do what he desperately wanted to do. Which was to slide his tongue into her mouth, explore her, taste her. Kiss her deeper, harder, take all her sweetness for himself. The same as he did with any other woman.