The Billionaire's Virgin(46)

She groaned, her eyelashes falling shut, her mouth opening, arching against him, and after that there was no going slow, no being easy. He couldn’t do either, not when she was naked beneath him and the wet heat of her pussy was gripping him so tightly he could almost believe he was going to embarrass himself right there and then.

So good. So fucking good.

He gathered her against him, moving faster now, pushing into all that slickness, feeling her inner muscles grip onto him tight as if she was trying to keep him inside her. It was all he could do not to lose his head completely and chase the climax he knew was going to break him apart when it hit.

But not yet, God not yet.

He’d already hurt her. He wasn’t going to leave her with pain, not even if it killed him.

He kissed her again, her mouth, her jaw, her neck, her throat, anywhere he could get a taste of her smooth, delicious skin. “Is that better?” He pulled his hips back then slid in deep again, choosing a different angle this time, feeling her shiver and shake beneath him. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” This time the cracks in her voice weren’t pain, but something huskier, throaty, and when her fingers slid into his hair, gripping him, he knew it wasn’t to pull him away “Oh . . . yes . . .”

Thank fuck.

The coldness inside him eased, the pleasure overwhelming everything, and he began to set up a rhythm, deep and slow, making her writhe and gasp as she tried to chase the friction. He kept one hand in the small of her back, guiding her hips to show her what to do, but she was a fast learner, picking up the rhythm in no time.

Oh Jesus, he wasn’t going to last. She was killing him.

Urging her legs up and around his waist, he slid even deeper, and when he kissed her again, she met it, and this time he could taste her own hunger. It was so sweet, making him even more desperate.

Everything began to slip away from him then and he began to move faster, driving himself deeper, harder. The rest of the world receded, there was only this. Only Mia and her arms around him, her body beneath his, her legs wrapped tight around his waist. Only that was real.

She whimpered, her fingers wrapped tight in his hair, so he slid his hand down between their bodies, finding the hard nub of her clit and slicking his thumb over it, timing it with his thrusts so that she began to give little hiccuping sobs. Then suddenly she turned her head into his neck, her body convulsing beneath his, her pussy closing around him like a fist.

And all his restraint snapped, and he was driving himself into her, over and over again until the climax rose up inside him and smacked him over the back of the head like a hammer.

He saw stars, probably even a couple of planets, maybe even the heat death of the universe. It was so fucking beautiful he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even move. He just lay there, feeling as if all his bones had been removed.

It wasn’t until she shoved at him that he realized that maybe he was a little big to be resting his full weight on top of such a slender woman. He shifted, putting his hands down on either side of her head, resting his weight on them rather than on her, then looked down at her.

She blinked up at him, breathing hard, staring at him as if she’d never seen him before in all her life.

“You okay?” He hoped to Christ that she was, silently swearing that he’d punch his own face if he’d done anything to hurt her.

“I . . . think so.” Her gaze roamed over him. “Are you?”

It was a weird question and one he couldn’t remember a woman ever asking him after sex. And now that he thought about it, no. No, he goddamn well wasn’t. Something had happened to him and he didn’t know quite what it was, but he was different. He was changed. Somehow it felt like something in him had cracked and . . . he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Yes,” he lied, and shifted again, easing himself away from her.

Distance, he needed distance. Not questioning it, he got up, turning toward the bathroom. “Just dealing with the condom,” he muttered. “Stay right there.”

In the bathroom, he got rid of the condom then put his palms against the marble basin and leaned on them, taking a couple of breaths, his heart racing. The cracked feeling persisted, and like a thread of rust in stainless steel it made him feel weak, undermined.

It had to do with her, he knew that. With losing control and just taking her. Ignoring the voice in his head that told him to take it slow and easy, to be gentle. He hadn’t been any of those things. He’d been rough, hard, shoving himself inside her and hurting her.

“Why do you do that, Xavier? It’s like you hurt me deliberately.”

His mother’s voice echoed around in his skull, and he had to turn on the taps, splash his face with icy cold water to get rid of it. Okay, so he was pretty much an asshole when it came to women, but he’d been trying with Mia, he really had.