Chapter 42
Dahlia
We’re still laughing when we walk through the door, the sound carrying into the quiet house. It’s the kind of easy laughter that comes after too many teasing words in the car, the kind that softens all the edges between us.
Then the door clicks shut, and everything shifts. The air grows thick, buzzing with an undercurrent that burns through the lightness of moments ago.
Xander doesn’t speak. His jaw’s set, eyes dark with a quiet restraint as he watches me bend and slip off my heels, one at a time, eyes following every move.
I clear my throat. “You’re staring again.”
He loosens his tie, pulls it free with an unhurried slide that makes my stomach dip. “I could never look away.”
It’s a promise that hums under my skin and pins me in place, unable to move as he walks past. The faint brush of air in his wake is enough to raise goose bumps on my arms. The distance between us grows as he heads to our bedroom.
He’s nearly up the stairs by the time I snap out of it, and I let out a small breath, more of a steadying thing than anything else, and trail after him.
When I reach the doorway, he’s there, framed by the soft light from the bedside lamp. His tie hangs loose around his neck, and his thick fingers unbutton his cufflinks before he places them on the dresser.
His gaze flicks to me, head cocking to the side. He looks undone, hair falling over his brows, casting his face in shadows.
My heart skips once, then settles into a faster rhythm. I should say something. Anything. Instead, I stand there waiting…
He straightens. “Come here.”
It’s low and sure, the kind of tone that settles into my bones, making me not want to argue.
I take a step forward. Then another.
When I reach him in the middle of the room, his eyes roam over me, steady and deliberate. From my face to my neck, down to where my dress dips across my chest.
“Was your plan to make me jealous?” His tone is deep, but there’s something sharper under it. Possessive.
I blink, caught off guard by the question. “No.”
His mouth curves, not quite a smile. “You did a good job anyway.”
I shift my weight, not sure what to do with my hands.
His gaze burns like a brand. “You walked into that place looking like temptation itself.”
I back away without thinking, an instinct to flee taking over.
Xander follows, every step measured. I keep retreating until the backs of my knees brush the bed.
He stops just close enough that I can feel the heat coming off him. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to stay back while every guy there looked at what’s mine?”
My heart skips. “They weren’t—”
“They were,” His says. “Every one of them was picturing fucking you.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Xander takes my hand and presses it to his chest. His heartbeat thuds under my palm; it’s faster than I expect. The warmth of his skin bleeds through his shirt. My fingers twitch against him.
His gaze flicks down, watching the way my chest rises and falls. Then his hands drop to my hips, his touch firm. He traces the curve of my waist before sliding both hands down the sides of my thighs. His thumbs move in calculated strokes, dragging up and back down again, deliberate and claiming.
I can’t stop the faint gasp that escapes me when he leans in just enough that his lips graze my temple. “How much restraint it took. Standing there, knowing every man who looked at you wanted to know how you taste.”
My pulse trips.
“Xander,” I whisper.
His hands tighten. Not enough to hurt, just enough to make me feel how much strength he’s holding back. “Tell me, did you think about them?”
“I didn’t.” My voice comes out quieter than I mean it to. “Only you.”
That seems to reach him. His grip eases. He exhales through his nose.
His hands move higher, the fabric sliding against my thighs, goose bumps rising in their wake. His eyes drop lower, landing on the thin strip of black lace that suddenly feels far too delicate.
“These,” he murmurs, his voice rough around the edges. “You wore them for me?”
“I…I didn’t think about it.” My pulse beats in my throat.
He hums, a low sound that vibrates through his chest. “You should start.”
Before I can answer, he grips my hips, guiding me backward until I fall onto the mattress, and catches my wrist in his hand.
“The only thing that saved them,” he says, his breath grazing my cheek, “was knowing you were coming home with me.”
He runs his thumb along my hand until he finds my ring. The metal glints in the warm light before he carefully slides it lower, caressing the small tattoo there.
“You remember what this means, right?” His eyes lift to mine, steady and sure.
Something twists low in my stomach.
I nod, barely.
For a second, the room goes still. Just our breathing.
Xander presses one last stroke over the tattoo before releasing it.
“Let me see you,” he says quietly.
I can’t remember the last time I wanted to be seen this much.
He slips the straps of my dress off my shoulders, slow and steady, like he’s unwrapping something precious and doesn’t want to rush.
The fabric drags against my skin, and his eyes follow the movement, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he works it lower, inch by inch, until it pools around my waist. His focus drops to my bare breasts, and he hisses through his teeth.
The sound sends a pulse straight through me.
“You’re so fucking pretty like this.” He brushes his thumb over my nipple. The touch is light, almost teasing.
My back arches, waiting for more.
“Flushed and needy,” he murmurs.
Lifting me, it only takes one last tug for my dress to slip free and fall to the floor.
My pulse trips hard.
His gaze roams over me again, slower this time, and he exhales. “Perfect.”
Wetness slicks my skin, and I can feel how turned on I am before he even touches me.
His mouth curves into a small smile. “Say my name.”
“Xander.” The sound comes out as a moan.
His mouth curves into a small, dangerous smile. “Good girl. You’ll be calling it out all night.”
He drags my panties down, kisses following them on the way.
The air leaves my lungs. There’s no pretense left. Just want.
His eyes search mine when I reach for him. The hunger’s still there, but it’s steadier now.
“Remember what I said before. We only do what you want.” He nearly brushes my core, then pauses. “You’re trusting I’ll make you feel good. Do you know what that does to me?”
He takes my hand, guiding it down to where he’s hard. His cock twitches against my palm, the heat of it seeping through the fabric still between us.
He leans close, mouth brushing my ear. “I like control. And tonight, we’re going to see how much you like giving it up.”
Need pools in my stomach, excitement like a live wire under my skin.
I nod, barely breathing.
Xander shifts me gently, guiding my legs apart until I’m open to him, and settles between my knees. He brushes his knuckles over my clit, shooting pleasure through me. The first stroke pulls a moan from me that doesn’t sound like my own.
He looks up at me through his lashes, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Already wet for me.”
The heat in my cheeks spreads down my neck. I want to look away, but I can’t.
He circles me again, just enough to make my hips shift. His gaze flicks up, watching every reaction. “Have you been thinking of me when you touch yourself?”
He presses hard, and pleasure shoots through me. “Yes.”
“I want to see you.” His voice is low and even, but there’s a quiet strain under it, like he’s hanging on to control by a thread.
My fingers curl against the sheet. “You want me to—”
“Show me,” he growls.
I hesitate for a second, then move my hand between us. The touch feels different with him watching, more electric, more real. My breath comes quicker, shallow and uneven.
The sound he makes is rough and low, almost a groan.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “You look perfect like this.”
His hand covers mine, guiding the rhythm for a few beats before he pulls away. His mouth trails down my stomach, each kiss leaving a damp heat behind.
He grips my knees and rests them over each of his shoulders, leaving me on full display. I slow, but he cuts in.
“Don’t stop.” His voice is rough, almost hoarse. “I’m not done watching yet.”
The words alone make me tremble. I can’t tell if it’s embarrassment or need, but it doesn’t matter.
He watches me, murmurs for me to go faster or slower, keeping me on the edge of my release until I’m desperate for him to touch me.
“Xander,” I beg. “Please.”
He chuckles.
With his palm against my tailbone, he presses up until I’m completely arched, only my shoulders and head on the mattress. I can’t begin to process what’s happening when he circles my fingers with his tongue.
I cry out, reaching for him but unable to.
He stops, clicking his tongue. “Did I tell you to stop?”
My eyes burn, my teeth clenched together as I circle my clit between my fingertips, then sink two fingers into my core.
He hums in approval. Hot breath fans over me, sending shivers dancing up my spine. Lungs burning for air, all I can do is wait.
His tongue flattens on my back hole. I jerk in surprise, the shock melting fast into something sharper.
He grips my thighs, holding me open as his tongue circles, slow and precise.
“Oh my God.” My voice cracks.
I can barely think, barely breathe. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.
He drops my legs to the bed and pulls back long enough to reach for the nightstand. The faint click of the drawer makes my heart race.
There’s a small pink silicone toy in his hand. He holds it up. “Ever used one of these?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then you’ll tell me if it gets to be too much.”
He opens a bottle of lube, slicks it over his fingers and the toy, and meets my eyes again. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”
My eyes roll back as he slips one finger past the rim, circling before pulling back and pressing in again, adding another finger. He works me over and over, and the tight burn fades.
He slips his fingers out. “Feel good?”
“Yes.” My jaw aches from how hard I’m grinding my teeth together. If he doesn’t let me come soon, I’m going to murder him. “Hurry.”
He doesn’t. Instead, he easily flips me onto my stomach, positioning me so that I’m on my knees and my face is against the mattress. Any embarrassment from before has been incinerated.
“Stay still, Dahlia.” The blunt tip of the toy presses against my hole, circling but not pushing in.
My body shakes with the effort to stay still.
“Good.” He leans down, brushing his mouth against my spine. “Who do you belong to?”
My stomach flips. “You.”
His voice drops. “Say it again.”
“You.”
He’s gentle as he presses the tapered end in, patient as I adjust around it. He waits until my muscles relax before stroking it in and out. The sensation is new but good, and soon, I’m shifting back for more.
Teeth sink into my ass, and Xander’s groan vibrates against me as the toy is removed.
“You’re ready for me now.” It’s not a question.
I twist my head as much as I can to look at him. Xander’s stripping off his clothes, and he generously covers his cock with lube.
I swallow hard. He’s much bigger than the toy.
A wrapper tears, and the foil falls by my head. The head of his cock runs along the seam of my ass, pausing each time to push harder into my hole.
There’s a sharp snap followed by a sting as Xander slaps my ass. “Breathe, Dahlia. I wouldn’t do anything that I didn’t think you could take.”
With those words, I let my thoughts float away, putting my full trust into him.
His tip breeches my rim, sinking in. The stretch burns in the best way, a sharp ache that melts just as fast. My fingers clutch the sheets, twisting them tight as my body adjusts around him. The sound that comes out of me isn’t graceful. It’s low and rough, pulled from somewhere deep.
Xander’s chest envelops my back, his breath stuttering against my ear. “You feel me shaking?” His voice comes out unsteady, strained. “That’s what you do to me. You own me, Dahlia.”
My chest tightens. The air between us changes, warmer, heavier.
“Xander.” My voice breaks on his name. “Please.”
His thrusts are carefully controlled. I can feel how badly he wants to let go, but he doesn’t. He exhales hard. His hips roll forward again, deeper this time, and I gasp.
Xander’s lips find my shoulder, then the curve of my neck. Each kiss feels heavier, hungrier. His teeth graze my skin, and I shiver.
“You’re taking my cock so well.” He grips my hip and pushes deeper, a slow, steady drive that pulls a cry from my throat. His breath catches again, and this time, he doesn’t stop. He moves with more force, each thrust grounding me, pulling me closer until there’s nothing left between us.
His arm wraps around me, fingers meeting my clit, and my orgasm detonates around me, pleasure sparking up my spine and rippling through me. Distantly, I can feel Xander’s hips stutter and his growled release.
For several moments, we don’t move, taking our time to come back to reality. Then he lifts, releasing himself from me. There’s the sound of something dropping into the trash before he’s back, pulling me into his arms, facing him.
The room’s quiet except for our breathing tangled together. Xander’s fingers work over the sore muscles in my shoulder, slide through my hair, trace down my spine until I’ve melted against him. Time stretches, and his heartbeat beneath my palm grows faster, more uneven.
I pull back to ask what’s wrong, but he presses his forehead to mine.
His voice trembles as he says, “I think I would die without you by my side. I promise you. If you feel weak, I’ll help you become strong.
If you’re greedy, I’ll get you riches. If you want power, I’ll make the world kneel at your feet. ”
He draws back just enough to cup my face. “All you need to do is stay with me. If I can have even the smallest piece of your love, that’s enough.” He leans in, brushes a soft kiss against my mouth, then meets my gaze. “From the first time I saw you, you’ve always been my only choice. I love you.”
My hand moves before I can think, finding his face, his jaw rough beneath my palm. “I love you too.”
His eyes widen, filling with wonder. A slow smile builds until it overtakes his face.
He kisses me hard, deep, like he’s finally breathing again.
“I don’t deserve you, Dahlia. You’re kind, forgiving, affectionate.
You care about everyone around you. I’m none of those things.
But I love you, and I’m greedy enough not to let you go. ”
He doesn’t see it. The way he’s already saved me. How lucky I am to have him. But I’ll spend the rest of my life showing him. “I love you.”