Page 14 of Nothing to You (Nothing to… #7)

When he plunged two fingers into her and pulled them back, she hummed in the pleasure he gave.

Mimicking her hum, he sank his mouth against her clit, warming it with the vibration. “Like that, baby?”

“Mmm,” she moaned, clenching her fingers in his hair. “Shit, Xavie—”

“I know, you like it. You love it, baby.” His tongue lengthened its strokes, almost mocking in how it played with her. She growled. “Temper, baby.”

The laugh in that tone was enough to snap her.

Shoving her foot into his shoulder, she forced him away. “I’ll go and find myself a real man. A man—”

He snagged her wrist and whipped her onto her back before she could fully rise from the couch.

“Forgive me, babygirl,” he murmured from on top of her, sweeping her hair from her face.

Except he wasn’t contrite. Amusement still dripped from his bedroom voice.

“I’m going home.”

“No, you’re not,” he said, still smiling.

“I’m going home. You’re pissing me off.”

“How’s that different from any other day?”

“This what we do now?” she asked.

“Fuck?”

“We’re not fucking,” she said, wriggling beneath him. He was bigger than her, heavy, in that horribly comforting way that didn’t do her arousal any favors. “You’re being a dick.”

“Stay the night and you’ll find out just how much of that I can give you.”

“I’m not staying. Why would I stay with you anyway?”

“We’re having a slumber party. Don’t friends do shit like that?”

“I don’t want to slumber with you.”

“No,” he said, drawing a fingertip along her hairline down her temple. “You like getting your own way.”

Her brow arched. “Pot?”

He grinned. “Okay, Kettle, your point. Tell me what you want.”

He knew what she wanted; it was written all over his face. Her whole body was ready for it. For him. He wanted her to say it. As she drew in a breath, her breasts pushed against him, and he pushed back. Wasn’t that just exactly their way?

Ah. What an idiot. Her snit evaporated as satisfaction crept in.

“Nothing you don’t want to give, Hotshot,” she said, parting her legs to coil one around his hip.

“You want to give it to me, baby? Are you hard, Xavie?” Her sultry voice came from the back of her throat as her leg slid up and down his.

“Does your long, thick—oh.” Switching to a pout of innocence, she widened her eyes before cringing. “Is he just a little, itty-bitty—”

“Ain’t nothing itty-bitty over here, Babycakes.”

She subdued her smile and dared him with a gaze. “So says you, and we both know you’re not the most accurate barometer of truth.”

“Mm, so says me.”

And when his hips rose and his hand disappeared between them, it wasn’t so easy to contain her glee or her triumph.

Goading him was about to have a reward she’d never expected to receive from him.

Yet, in that moment, every raw nerve-ending anticipated the completion that would come if he sank himself into her.

The blunt head of his cock pushed against her.

She held her breath. He kept it there, sliding it up and down, coating her with the moisture seeping from her body.

Rocking against him, she tempted the stimulation higher, lower, wherever she could get it.

Their eyes met as her teeth caught her lip and that was it.

His mouth opened just a little at the same moment he pushed into her.

And then it was her turn to express her bliss. No itty-bitty nothing was right. She’d never felt so full.

“Xavie, baby,” she said, arching as she draped her arms around his neck. “I knew you could do it.”

He thrust so hard that she yelped at the unexpected depth of his intrusion.

Smug pride plumped his cheeks. She socked his shoulder, but as he moved within her, warming her, rousing her, the flat of her palm caressed his shoulder, his defined arm, up to his neck and into his hair.

“Mmm, yes.” She couldn’t help herself. Just like she couldn’t stop her knees from rising and her hips from moving with his. “Xavie.”

“Not yet,” he growled, getting faster, thinning the air between them, lessening the oxygen they got per breath. “Wait for me, baby.”

He hadn’t got the warmup she had. Her whole being was ready to explode in response to the pound of need tightening her muscles.

Squeezing tight, her pelvis pulled back. “Xavie—”

“Shit, baby, go!”

With that permission, she bucked and braced, holding onto the waves of ecstasy that milked him deep within her.

“Oh, Xavie,” she breathed out when he dropped on top of her, his weight sort of braced on the elbow he had on the couch above her shoulder.

“Know how many times I’ve thought about doing that?” he panted. “We’ll last longer next time.”

“Next time?” she asked, ready to tease him again. But he scooped her off the couch and carried her across the room. “Where are we going?”

“Upstairs. Slumber party needs a bed.”

And he opened the door by the bookcases behind the desk she’d ignored earlier.

“Oh, your bedroom?” They went up a sweeping spiral staircase that occupied the cylindrical hallway. “Aren’t I honored?”

“You should be,” he said when they got into the huge room at the top of the stairs. “Now it’s your turn to impress me.”