Read Online Xander (Billionaire Racers Book 1) by Anne Marsh - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anne Marsh
Ads: Link
haven’t had sex in six years?” My question trails off into a moan because holy shit, does the man have a talented tongue. He explores my ear with his mouth, licking and nipping and really? I don’t need to be talking now. I just want Xander. On me. In me. Underneath me.
“I have much to make up for,” he murmurs, and he’s making a great start. Callused fingers trace a path down my neck, and then his mouth follows. Thank God I’ve got the bed behind me and Xander in front because I’m pretty sure my knees are done holding me up. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean into his kisses. I can live with him holding me up for now.
“Tell me how I am doing,” he whispers roughly, and I nod.
So far, he’s a perfect ten in my book. The man’s confidence is not misplaced. I wrap my arms around his neck, sliding my legs around his hips as I pull his head down to mine. Why does this man turn me on so much—when every other man leaves me cold? He unbuttons my shorts, his palm pressing against my stomach as his fingers trace the lacy edge of my panties. I rock against him. He’s not even naked, and he’s driving me crazy.
He kisses me hard and fast, and then he’s setting me down, and yes that’s my whimper I hear.
“Tick tock,” he whispers and strips my shorts and panties off. “Ten minutes. I always keep my promises, angel. ”
His mouth brushes my throat, his hands urging me down. Must be a bitch to race with that erection of his—he’s thick and aroused. The yacht rocks—we’re moving, easing away from the dock as the crew prepares to sail the Koa to the starting point. I stagger, off-balance, and Xander seizes his opportunity. We tumble onto the bed together, and he rolls me, coming up on top. I can’t breathe. Can’t move.
My life’s been turned upside down by men, and so he shouldn’t get what he wants either. I won’t be his plaything. Breathing harshly, I yank his head down to mine, my hands cradling his face. He groans something harsh and sibilant in Russian, and then his mouth covers mine. I thought his kiss would be hard. Fierce. Possessive. Instead, he kisses me as if he’s tasting me. As if he has all the time in the world and he simply wants to find out if I’m his flavor—or not. His tongue licks inside my mouth, learning me.
I grab him, yanking him closer. I don’t want gentle. I’m not some fairy-tale princess who needs to be wooed because she’s been locked up in her ivory tower for most of her life. As if he’s reading my mind, Xander deepens his kiss, stroking harder, deeper into my mouth until we’re so tangled up together I can feel his heart pounding in my own chest.
He thrusts his hips against mine, his hands pinning me to the bed, and the sensations make me whimper louder. God, he feels good. His dick presses against my pussy, making itself at home against my slit. When the Koa lunges forward, the thick, hard tip nudges my clit. Oh God.
“Xander—” He makes me feel so good it’s frightening.
“You want to say something, you say it now,” he states. “You want me to stop, the door is right there.”
I don’t want him to stop. Do I? Sure, this isn’t quite how I imagined our first time together—in the barely private cabin of a boat with a ten-minute deadline and fifteen people overhead—but it’s not bad either. In fact, it’s amazing. So amazing that I want more.
“Say something,” I plead. I’m not sure why I want more words from him. We’ve never talked, but part of me wants to hear that this means something to him. That I’m more than a convenient piece of ass he’s squeezing in before the start of his race.
“Ya vas lyubil: lyubov’ eshe byt’ mozhet.” He whispers the words roughly against my skin. I loved you once and still could love you yet again. The words are stolen, a line from a nineteenth-century poem by Alexander Pushkin, the kind of poem every Russian schoolchild learns by heart—and yet the borrowed words make me feel
“I have much to make up for,” he murmurs, and he’s making a great start. Callused fingers trace a path down my neck, and then his mouth follows. Thank God I’ve got the bed behind me and Xander in front because I’m pretty sure my knees are done holding me up. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean into his kisses. I can live with him holding me up for now.
“Tell me how I am doing,” he whispers roughly, and I nod.
So far, he’s a perfect ten in my book. The man’s confidence is not misplaced. I wrap my arms around his neck, sliding my legs around his hips as I pull his head down to mine. Why does this man turn me on so much—when every other man leaves me cold? He unbuttons my shorts, his palm pressing against my stomach as his fingers trace the lacy edge of my panties. I rock against him. He’s not even naked, and he’s driving me crazy.
He kisses me hard and fast, and then he’s setting me down, and yes that’s my whimper I hear.
“Tick tock,” he whispers and strips my shorts and panties off. “Ten minutes. I always keep my promises, angel. ”
His mouth brushes my throat, his hands urging me down. Must be a bitch to race with that erection of his—he’s thick and aroused. The yacht rocks—we’re moving, easing away from the dock as the crew prepares to sail the Koa to the starting point. I stagger, off-balance, and Xander seizes his opportunity. We tumble onto the bed together, and he rolls me, coming up on top. I can’t breathe. Can’t move.
My life’s been turned upside down by men, and so he shouldn’t get what he wants either. I won’t be his plaything. Breathing harshly, I yank his head down to mine, my hands cradling his face. He groans something harsh and sibilant in Russian, and then his mouth covers mine. I thought his kiss would be hard. Fierce. Possessive. Instead, he kisses me as if he’s tasting me. As if he has all the time in the world and he simply wants to find out if I’m his flavor—or not. His tongue licks inside my mouth, learning me.
I grab him, yanking him closer. I don’t want gentle. I’m not some fairy-tale princess who needs to be wooed because she’s been locked up in her ivory tower for most of her life. As if he’s reading my mind, Xander deepens his kiss, stroking harder, deeper into my mouth until we’re so tangled up together I can feel his heart pounding in my own chest.
He thrusts his hips against mine, his hands pinning me to the bed, and the sensations make me whimper louder. God, he feels good. His dick presses against my pussy, making itself at home against my slit. When the Koa lunges forward, the thick, hard tip nudges my clit. Oh God.
“Xander—” He makes me feel so good it’s frightening.
“You want to say something, you say it now,” he states. “You want me to stop, the door is right there.”
I don’t want him to stop. Do I? Sure, this isn’t quite how I imagined our first time together—in the barely private cabin of a boat with a ten-minute deadline and fifteen people overhead—but it’s not bad either. In fact, it’s amazing. So amazing that I want more.
“Say something,” I plead. I’m not sure why I want more words from him. We’ve never talked, but part of me wants to hear that this means something to him. That I’m more than a convenient piece of ass he’s squeezing in before the start of his race.
“Ya vas lyubil: lyubov’ eshe byt’ mozhet.” He whispers the words roughly against my skin. I loved you once and still could love you yet again. The words are stolen, a line from a nineteenth-century poem by Alexander Pushkin, the kind of poem every Russian schoolchild learns by heart—and yet the borrowed words make me feel
Similar Books
