Chapter 5 #3
“That’s it,” he groans, watching me with hooded eyes. His own thrusts turn erratic, pounding up into me so hard I see stars. “You close, baby? I can feel you squeezing me.”
“Yes… yes,” I whimper, barely able to get the word out. I’m so close. I drag my fingers faster over my clit, tilting my hips to take him even deeper.
Pleasure starts to crest inside me. My breath catches, and I know I’m seconds away from falling apart again.
Xavier’s face is a mask of strain and bliss as he pistons his hips.
His thumb strokes my cheek tenderly even as he ravages me.
“Come for me, mi amor,” he begs, voice cracking. “Milk my cock. I want to feel it.”
I’m right there, teetering on the precipice of rapture—
A shrill ringtone blares through the car, shattering our lust-drunk haze.
We both freeze. For a heartbeat, I’m not even sure what that sound is—I’m so far gone that it hardly registers. Then reality comes crashing back in. It’s a phone. His phone, ringing loudly from the dashboard mount.
“Mierda!” Xavier swears, the curse ripping from his throat. His movements have already stilled, but he’s still sheathed inside me, pulsing urgently. We both turn our heads in unison toward the glowing screen of his phone. The caller ID reads Guinevere.
Perfect fucking timing. It’s his mother calling, probably wondering why we haven’t arrived yet.
The realization is like a bucket of ice water dumped over us.
My eyes go wide and I slap a hand over my mouth, a sudden hysterical giggle bubbling up my throat.
Xavier’s eyes meet mine, equally startled and disbelieving.
For a second, neither of us says a word.
The only sound is the cheery trill of his mother’s ringtone and our own harsh breathing.
Then a strangled snort escapes me from behind my hand. I try to hold it back, but I can’t—laughter starts spilling out, growing uncontrollable. Holy shit, we just fucked... in front of his parents’ house...
Xavier blinks, as if torn between frustration and amusement at our predicament. A heartbeat later, he’s laughing too, a deep breathless laugh that I feel rumbling through his chest against mine.
Carefully, he lifts me off his lap, groaning under his breath as my body reluctantly lets him go. I move back into the passenger seat as gracefully as I can—though “graceful” is a stretch, considering I’m shaking and trying not to catch my heels on the console.
He reaches for the still-ringing phone with one hand, while the other hastily yanks his pants up over his hips.
I’m busy scrambling to fix my dress, hands fumbling to tie the halter neck back in place over my tingling breasts.
My cheeks burn with a mix of embarrassment and residual desire.
We exchange a wild-eyed glance and that sends us into another fit of quiet giggles. We must look like an absolute mess.
Clearing his throat, Xavier answers the call just before it can go to voicemail.
“Mère.” His voice is composed now, except for the rough edge he cannot quite bury.
I busy myself smoothing my hair and wiping the smudged lipstick from the corner of my mouth, trying to look innocent.
“We’re here.” A pause. His eyes flick to mine, unimpressed by whatever she says.
“We were delayed.” Another pause. “No, nothing happened.” His thumb drags once over the steering wheel.
“We’ll be inside shortly.” His jaw tightens.
“I heard you the first time.” He ends the call without waiting for her reply.
He releases a breath and slumps back against the seat. Guinevere always manages to ruin the mood.
“Dios,” he mutters, running a hand through his disheveled hair .
“Your fault,” I tease, unwilling to let Guinevere linger between us. I’m still breathless as I shimmy my skirt back down over my thighs. “Parking here and pulling something like that… are you insane?”
Xavier shoots me a sideways grin, utterly unrepentant. “Probably.” He reaches over to brush his thumb at the corner of my swollen lips, a smug gleam in his dark eyes. “But you weren’t complaining.”
I flush and swat his hand away, though I can’t help but smile. “Shut up.”
He just laughs and adjusts himself properly in his slacks, zipping and buckling back up. I catch a glimpse of the prominent bulge still straining there and feel a pang of sympathy—and a rekindling flicker of desire. We didn’t exactly get to finish what we started.
Xavier must catch me eyeing his lap, because he gives a dramatic sigh.
“This is definitely not over, mi amor,” he says, low and promising.
He cups my cheek suddenly, leaning in to steal one more hungry kiss.
I taste a hint of myself again and it makes me dizzy with longing.
He pulls away all too soon, resting his forehead against mine for one tender moment.
“Later,” he whispers, the word ripe with sinful intent.
“I’m going to finish what we started. Properly. Just wait.”
A delicious shiver dances over my skin at the weight of that promise. “I’ll hold you to it,” I whisper back, nuzzling him before finally forcing myself to pull away.
We take a second to make ourselves as presentable as possible. My cheeks are still flushed rosy, lips slightly swollen, eyes bright. I look thoroughly ravished. There’s no undoing that.
Beside me, Xavier straightens his tie with a smirk and shrugs his suit jacket back over my shoulders to cover the evidence of his passion—namely, the faint red mark blooming on my neck and my still-hard nipples pressing against the thin fabric of my dress.
I button the jacket closed, grateful for the concealment and the lingering heat of him in the material.
He starts the car again. Gravel crunches under the tires as we approach the sprawling villa. And just like that reality crashes back. My stomach tightens with nerves at the thought of facing everyone inside.
My husband must feel me tense, because he reaches over and, without taking his eyes off the drive, finds my hand again and laces his fingers through mine. Our matching gold wedding bands glint faintly in the dim light.
For better, for worse.
“Remember,” I murmur, kissing the back of his hand. “I’m with you every step of the way. We’ll see your sister, stay as long as you want, and leave whenever you’re ready.”
A soft, grateful warmth enters his eyes. “Esy ki egó,” he says quietly, kissing the back of my hand. “Gia pánta.”
My heart melts the way it always does when he speaks Greek to me. Not because he gets every inflection right, but because he learned the language for me.
And I know exactly what he is promising.
“You and me,” I whisper back. “Forever.”
He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “We don’t have to figure everything out tonight,” he says softly. “One thing at a time.”
I nod, heart swelling. “One thing at a time.” My voice is still a bit hoarse, but a genuine smile graces my lips. It feels like ages since I’ve smiled for real.
The cracks in our relationship aren’t mended, not by a long shot, but they don’t feel insurmountable anymore. We’ve remembered how to want each other, how to laugh together. It’s a start.
As the car comes to a stop, Xavier brings my hand to his lips again and presses a tender kiss to my knuckles.
“Gracias, mi vida.”
“For what?”
“For not giving up on us,” he replies. “Even when I made it hard. And refused to see what was right in front of me.”
Emotion clogs my throat.
His gaze sharpens, something raw and unguarded breaking through the man he shows the rest of the world.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick.” His voice drops as his thumb moves over my knuckles.
“Being married to me has cost you more than it should have. The cameras. The whispers. My family. I kept telling myself I was protecting you from the worst of it, but I wasn’t.
I made you face it alone.” His fingers close carefully around mine.
“Please don’t leave me, amor. I wouldn’t survive it. ”
The plea goes straight through me.
“I’d understand. God knows I would deserve it. But surviving it?” He shakes his head once, like the thought itself is unbearable. “No.”
My chest goes tight. I force the tears back.
“Life without you isn’t life. It’s punishment. A house with no light. A body going through the motions because the soul already left.” His eyes hold mine. “If you ever walk away from me, you won’t be breaking my heart. You’ll be taking it with you.”
I shake my head, unsure where all of this is coming from. We’ve had our ups and downs over the past eight years, but life has been good otherwise. Leaving him has never even crossed my mind.
“I won’t, baby,” I say, nodding toward the house. “Come on. We have a dinner to survive.”
My tone is light, but we both hear the truth beneath it.
He flashes me that roguish grin that first stole my heart years ago and opens his door. The November night air rushes in, salty from the nearby sea and crisp with approaching winter.
Rounding the hood, my husband comes over to my side and opens my door like the gentleman he can be when he’s not acting like a crazed, sex-starved man.
I step out, my legs still a touch unsteady. He catches me with a hand at the small of my back, and I send him a grateful look.
As we make our way inside, Xavier’s fingertips brush my hip in a secret caress—a promise and a reassurance all at once.
I lean into him, a smile tugging at my lips. We’ll get through this dinner, and later… well, later, my husband owes me.
Hand in hand, we step forward into the light, leaving every heartbreak carefully out of sight.
Tonight, at least, we can pretend to be happy without restraint.