The Billionaire's Virgin(48)

She’d never known anything quite as intense as the orgasm that had hit her when his hand had pushed between them, when his fingers had touched her clit and he’d thrust so hard into her she’d thought she might break.

And really, you did break.

Yes, she had. Completely. In the best way possible. When she’d come back to herself, she’d felt like a newly hatched baby chick. Everything seemed new and bright, and the electric blue of his eyes had felt like the beginning and end of the entire world.

Compared to that, a little pain, a little fear, was nothing. She’d had plenty of both in her life. Him pushing inside her was nothing to the cigarette burns to her skin or the impact of the wooden spoon on the backs of her legs. God, even the physical pain seemed small in comparison to the words that had rained down on her for seven years. “Worthless girl. Stupid bitch. No wonder your mommy ran away. Can’t you do anything right? I should have given you away, but no, I kept you because I’m a good person. You should be fucking grateful.”

Mia looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He gave her another once-over, as if checking to make sure she was okay. “Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere else? There are. . . .” He trailed off as if he couldn’t bring himself to say more, gesturing to her hip then her throat.

She glanced down and saw the slight marks on her skin. It gave her a shock, though not in a bad way, not at all. In fact, she almost liked them. They made what she and Xavier had done real. She looked back at him. “They’re just marks. And they’re good ones.”

But he wasn’t smiling. In fact, he looked grim. “Nothing like that is good, Mia.”

“What I meant was, they’re there because what we did was good. What you did made me feel was good. It’s not like you put a cigarette out on me or anything.”

He looked away at that, his beautiful face hardening. As if he didn’t believe her.

The black shirt he wore was all crumpled and half of it was coming out of the waistband of his pants, and she wanted to go over to him and unbutton it, take it off him, explore him. She wanted to touch him the way he’d touched her.

She’d never wanted to do that to a man before, and even if she had wanted to, she’d never have actually done it. But things were different now. Xavier’s had shown her what she’d been missing all this time: simple human contact, the comfort of being held by someone, the intense pleasure of a gentle hand on her bare skin and a warm mouth on hers.

And if there was anything she wanted more of in her life, it was that. Clothes and pretty toiletries and fancy food she could leave, but Xavier’s touch? Hell no, she wanted as much as she could possibly get of that.

She stood up and took a step toward him, not caring about her nakedness. “Xavier?” It was nice he was concerned about her, but she didn’t wanting him thinking he’d hurt her or that what they’d done together had been bad, because it hadn’t been. “I’m okay. Really and truly.”

He turned his head and met her gaze, and for a second he just looked at her. Then he let out a breath. “Okay.”

She took another, hesitant step. “Perhaps we could . . . try it again?”

An expression she couldn’t interpret crossed his face. “I’m sorry, sweet thing. I’ve got some stuff to handle and it’s probably better for you if we wait.” He sounded distant, the warmth in his deep voice gone.

A cold feeling broke over her and suddenly she wished she wasn’t naked after all, that she had some clothes or something to wrap around her. Swallowing back the urge to go and sit on the bed, and pull the sheet around her, she stayed where she was. “Are you sure? I mean . . .” She stopped, not knowing how to flirt or be seductive.

But he was already turning away, heading straight for the doorway. “Not right now,” he said over his shoulder. “Maybe later. I suggest you take a nice, warm bath in the meantime.”

Then he was gone, disappearing out the doorway, leaving her standing there naked in the middle of the room.

Mia stood there a second, frowning. Then she sat down on the bed and reached for the comforter, drawing it around her.

What was wrong with him? Was it her? Had he gotten what he’d wanted out of her and now he didn’t want her anymore? Had this all been an elaborate trick to get her to sleep with him and now he’d done so, he was going to kick her back out on the street?

A small kernel of ice hardened in her gut.

You idiot. These things always come to an end, you know this.

Mia bit her lip hard, the pain drowning out the thought in her head. She had to think this through logically. Would a man like Xavier really take her home, give her a bath and a bed, ply her with food and buy her clothes, simply to get her to sleep with him? When he could have any woman he wanted anytime he wanted?