The Billionaire's Virgin(41)

“The kind of sex I want is about pleasure. For me, sure. But mainly, I want to show you how good it can be for you.” Her skin was so soft against his fingers and he wanted to stroke her, but this was important so he kept still. “Do you want that? Would you like me to show you how good I can make you feel?”

She stared back at him and he could feel the tension in her jaw. “I kind of do,” she said huskily after a moment. “But I’m afraid.”

“What of? Me?” He had to ask.

“No. It’s more that I’ve never felt like this.”

“Never felt like what?”

Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Like . . . I want something.”

This time he couldn’t stop himself, stroking along her jaw with his thumb. “And what you do want, sweet thing?”

Her eyes were very dark. “I think . . . I want you.”

A deep sense of satisfaction moved through him, along with a sharp triumph that made him want to push her down and give her what she wanted immediately.

But no. He wasn’t going to do that. He needed to be slow, careful.

Being with someone who was afraid of their own desires was new to him, and he had no experience to guide him. Normally he just made stuff up as he went along using trial and error, but with Mia . . . Jesus, he couldn’t afford an error.

Already this thing with her was far more complicated than anything else he’d had with other women, and that alone should have made him pull back. Complicated was definitely not what he was after.

Yet . . . she wanted him. And he was desperate to give her what she wanted.

He stared at her, keeping his grip on her chin firm. “Then you can have me.

Her eyes widened a little. “I . . . I don’t know w-what to do.”

“You don’t have to do anything. Just keep looking at me and let me do the work.” God, he couldn’t wait. He would show her everything.

Reaching out, he flicked open the second button on her shirt.

She tensed, but didn’t pull away, so he kept going, tugging open the fabric. The two halves of the cotton gaped and she shivered.

“Are you okay?” He watched her face carefully.

She gave a little nod, trembling as he reached for the third button and undid it, the fabric gaping even further, revealing those pretty, perfectly round tits. He let himself look as he pulled open the rest of the buttons, measuring the tension in her by the taut feel of her chin in his hand.

Christ. A flush had spread down over her chest, her nipples tight and hard. His cock ached, impatient as always, but somehow knowing that he was in charge of what happened here, that he was responsible for her pleasure made everything easier to deal with.

He was not going to fuck this one up.

He refused.

Sweeping his gaze back to her face, he made sure she was looking at him as he reached out once more, resting his fingers once again on her throat, letting her get used to his touch. Before easing them down, sliding lightly over her chest, tracing little patterns on her skin.

Her breathing had changed, becoming faster, ragged-sounding in the silence of the room. There was a darkness in her eyes, the same kind of darkness he’d seen in them when he’d kissed her, her pupils dilated, an almost glazed look in them.

“Does this feel good, Mia?” He followed the curve of one breast with his fingertip. “It’s okay if it does. You’re allowed to have it. This is yours, it can’t be taken away.” His fingertip reached her nipple then circled around it a couple of times before gently brushing over it. “You know that, right?”

She shuddered, a sound escaping her throat, something small and glistening running down the side of her nose.

A tear.

“No,” she whispered hoarsely.

* * *

He was touching her and his hand was so warm and it felt . . . good. So good.

She’d never thought sex could be like that. That it could feel good. She knew what it was all about, of course, but on the streets sex was either about making someone feel powerful over someone else, or it was a tool to be used to get stuff.

She never thought it could actually be about pleasure.

Xavier’s eyes were so blue the color actually hurt, and his touch was so light, so gentle, she couldn’t deal with it. She’d never been touched like this before. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time someone actually touched her at all bar Xavier.

“No?” he echoed, his fingers circling her nipple then brushing over the tip, sending jolts of sensation all the way through her. Making her breath catch and her skin feel like it was pulling tighter and tighter.

She hadn’t meant to cry, but the tear had escaped anyway, leaving her feeling vulnerable and raw. How could she explain that even though she’d finally admitted that this scary feeling was desire, she couldn’t actually let herself have him? That he was like all the other good things he’d given her that she couldn’t let herself have. That she was afraid of having anything good because it was only temporary, only fleeting.