Chapter 20

TWENTY

N ow it was my turn to stare for what seemed like minutes. I stared at the ring. I stared at him. I stared at the rest of the room like it really might evaporate and I’d be sucked back into my bedroom upstairs, ripped away from a moment that was too beautiful not to be a dream.

And yet.

Nothing faded.

Nothing disappeared.

Somehow, this moment was actually real.

Xavier Parker had just asked me to marry him.

Xavier cleared his throat. “Um, Ces?”

I blinked. “You…you love me, Xavi?”

He tipped his head as a delicate smile flirted with that generous mouth. “Haven’t I just been saying as much?”

“But…but you love me? Not how I mother Sofia or how I support you or what we do in the bedroom…or…”

One of Xavier’s hands gently closed over my mouth, then fell down to rest atop my knees.

“I love you , Ces,” he said solemnly, though humor still danced in his sapphire blues. “Those other things are wonderful, and they make you even more special, but I have always been and only ever will be deeply and desperately in love with you. Your heart. Your wit. Your dreams. Your soul.” He took a deep breath, glanced down at the ring in his hand, then back up at me. “So…will you? Woman, will you please fucking marry me?”

I searched his face for a long time. I know he had already answered my question, but some part of me, that shy little girl who had never quite learned that she was worth loving completely, was still looking for the lie. Some sign of insincerity.

A shifty expression. Fidgety fingers. A tremor in his voice.

But every part of Xavier remained still and steadfast.

And that part of me, small and scared, finally closed her eyes and relaxed.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Say it again.”

I blinked. Xavier’s eyes blazed bluer than ever and hotter than any fire. But they were focused completely on me.

“Say it again,” he repeated. “I need you to say it again.”

“Yes,” I said louder, more confidently as he slid the ring onto my finger, laughing as he did. The joyous sound filled the room and my heart. “Yes, Xavier Sato Parker, I will marry you.”

Because I couldn’t hold myself back any longer, I threw my arms around him, and he caught me amidst his joy. We both toppled onto the floor, giggling and grasping for each other, like we couldn’t get close enough.

It was different than before. Different than “pretending,” for sure, but also different than when we had been together.

Even in England, things between us had still just been pretend, in a way. We were trying on the relationship like I might try on a dress. Neither of us was fully committed because neither of us really believed we deserved this kind of happiness. Or maybe could fully believe it was real at all.

And maybe that was the way of most relationships, but I should have known from the moment I saw him in the middle of that party, from the time he chased me onto the street, from the second he finally kissed me in that bar all those years ago…it was never going to be practice with Xavier Parker.

It was always going to be forever.

And then he kissed me. At last.

His mouth captured mine as he rolled me onto my back, carefully bracing himself over my body like a long, lean cage. His mouth tasted of brandy and adoration, and his fingers threaded through my hair with reverence. This was what I’d been waiting for over the past weeks—really, years. This kiss wasn’t just passion or longing. No more nervous energy bound up in a pool of lust. Before, Xavier would devour me like a starving man, like someone who hadn’t had a drink in days.

But though he was no less voracious now, there was the way his jaw relaxed slightly or how his other hand traveled up and down my spine with total reverence rather than clinging like he might fall from a cliff.

In between kisses that left both of us breathless, Xavier laughed again and again. Deep and melodious, it was one of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard.

It sounded like something deep inside of him had been set loose to run.

It sounded like freedom.

It sounded like trust.

“I love you,” I told him honestly.

“I couldn’t love anyone more,” he returned with eyes as bright as stars.

Before I could say another word, he got up onto his knees, then bent down and swept me up in his arms like he really was the gallant hero from countless novels.

Except this wasn’t fiction.

This was one hundred percent real.

“And I need you more than I ever fucking have,” he informed me.

Well, maybe not so genteel.

I couldn’t have cared less.

He carried me through the living room and into the sole bedroom that had little more than a king-sized bed, a rack bearing Xavier’s clothes, and a small roller suitcase in the corner that obviously got consistent use as he flew back and forth between New York and London.

But that was it. The entire downstairs, I realized, had hardly any personal effects beyond the heavy bag. No art on the walls beyond a picture or two of Sofia and the rental-quality prints Matthew had gotten from Target. No books or magazines or any of the other bits of detritus associated with a normal human life.

“I see you really made yourself at home here,” I joked.

Xavier looked around with me, apparently seeing things anew.

“It was never going to be home,” he said before pressing another eager kiss to my lips. “It was just a place to bide my time until you let me return to the one I have with you.”

I frowned. “You think upstairs is home with me? You’ve never even lived there.”

Xavier just snorted. “Home would be with you even if you were still sleeping on a single bed on the landing. Under a bridge, in a field, or in a castle. It’s you, babe. You’re home to me.”

He set my feet on the floor. Then, with hands on my shoulders, he turned me around so he could cup my face and deliver yet another deep kiss. It went on and on, slowly this time, ever so reverently as he peeled my shirt over my head, then moved to unbutton my pants.

“I can do it,” I said, reaching down to help him. It was a little embarrassing how tight my normal clothes had gotten.

“Don’t,” he said gruffly, batting my hands away. “I want to unwrap you myself.”

“Because I’m, what, a package?” I joked nervously.

“Because you’re a fucking treasure.”

There wasn’t much to say to that. He removed all my clothes, and I did the same for him until we both stood in front of each other in little more than our underwear. Xavier sat on the edge of the mattress, then pulled me roughly onto his lap so I was straddling his waist. He reached behind my back and undid my bra, letting the simple cotton fall to the floor so that I was nearly naked, with nothing more than my hair to shelter me from his heated gaze.

“There’s no going back now,” he told me seriously. “I tried to give you space. I tried to give you time to figure out what the rest of us already know. But I’m not letting you go again, Francesca. Not now, not ever.”

I was the one to smile now. “I know,” I said. “I never left you. Not really.”

I slid my hands over his shoulders, delighting in the feel of his broad shape, the silkiness of his skin golden like the color of wheat in the sun.

“You’re so beautiful,” I informed him.

With a smile, Xavier brushed my hair over my shoulders, baring my breasts and the slope of my stomach to him. His eyes darted all over my changing shape, like he was expecting me to morph in front of his eyes. For a moment, they rested on my lips, and he looked like he was going to kiss me again, but then they tracked down as he teased his fingertips over one aching nipple.

“God, they’re beautiful,” he murmured as he moved to touch the other one in turn. “Different, you know that?”

“Tell me about it. About two cup sizes different.”

He grinned with a very good impression of a tiger who had just caught his prey. “Yes. But the nipples too. A bit puffier. Darker. Like perfectly ripe raspberries.” He lightly brushed his thumb over the pebbled edge.

I sucked in my breath as the move sent another shock straight through my belly.

Well, that was new.

“I’ve wondered how it will taste,” he said as he lightly pulled at the taut nub.

“You have not,” I mumbled, though I was finding it hard to focus when he was toying with me that way. Even more when he bent his head to my neck and began to trail his tongue through the curve where it met my shoulder and into the sensitive hollow just above my clavicle.

He chuckled into my skin. “I’m a sick man, Ces. Especially when it comes to you.” He cupped both breasts, squeezing them lightly.

“But—you fantasize about that?” I gasped even as he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked, long and hard, as if in answer.

“Any man who says he doesn’t is lying through his teeth.” His words were a burr against my tender skin before he moved to the other breast and performed the same intense worship. “Sweet and rich. A perfect dessert.” He suckled me hard again, causing me to shiver in his arms. “Lait de Francesca.”

Maybe it was the French. Or the image of this beautiful man at my breast. But if he was sick, then so was I, because something within me responded with a deep tug at my very core. I found myself wrapping my hands around his head, urging him to take more, pull all of me into him, possess my very being if it was what he really needed. His hands traveled around my back, seizing lush handfuls of my waist, my ass, my legs in rhythm with his lips.

And then the sensations changed. The embers at my core blossomed into fire. Xavier rolled my nipple between his teeth, and suddenly the friction was too much to take. I undulated my hips into him, and the sensation of his length, solid and true between my legs, with only a few scant barriers of fabric between us, was too much to take.

I came, fast and by complete surprise.

“Fuck!” I gasped as the orgasm swept through me suddenly.

Xavier kept his mouth on my breast but pulled me closer, kneading his hands into my thighs as my entire body quaked in his clutches.

“Xavi!” I cried, grasping for his hair, his shoulders, his arms—anything I could cling to while the waves of pleasure wrecked me.

His hum was low and deep against my skin, a velvet motor.

It was too much.

“Back.” With two hands, I shoved him off me, forcing his mouth from my breast with an audible pop.

He fell onto his back with a cocky grin that almost had me laughing in return.

“Like that, did you?” he asked.

“Shut up,” I told him as I got off his lap only long enough to help him remove the last of his clothes. When he was naked on the bed, his cock lying stiff and heavy up his stomach, I crawled back over him, watching his cheeky mischief transform into complete and utter unadulterated need.

I straddled him once more, sliding my slick center over his waiting member. Thrilling when it moved toward me of its own accord.

“Fuck,” Xavier hissed as his hands clamped on to my hips again. He tried to pull me down, but I resisted him.

“No,” I said. “Now it’s my turn to drive you crazy.”

I positioned myself at his head. It was nearly impossible not to sink down, take him fully the way I’d been dreaming of what seemed like always. My first orgasm had already faded, and my parts were practically throbbing with need for him. Had been for months.

“Please,” Xavier implored. “Fucking hell, Ces. Don’t make me beg.”

I leaned forward and brushed my lips over his. “But I like it when you beg. I like to know you want me.”

“Vixen,” he whispered, breath sweet and warm. “You own me, you know that?”

“Oh, Xavi,” I said before kissing him once more. “We don’t own each other. But we belong to each other just the same.”

When I saw that light, that freedom, cross his face again, I sat up and took him in. Just a little.

“That’s it, babe,” he choked out, voice guttural and strung with need. “Take me deep, Ces. Take me fucking home.”

Inch by inch, I slowly lowered onto him, taking my time, adjusting to his size until finally, I was seated around him.

Xavier shuddered. “Fuck, that’s right. God, you feel so fucking perfect.”

“I—oh!” I gasped as he slipped a hand into the cleft of my ass and toyed one long finger over that delicate back entry.

And then I couldn’t move anymore. Pleasure started to stripe through me, coming in lashes that threatened to toss me completely off the bed. I felt like I was strapped to a horse racing toward a cliff, but I had no way to steer. No way to control the horse at all.

Xavier grabbed my body and held me in place, then thrust upward from beneath me, again and again, until we both toppled off the cliff.

“Xavi!” I screamed as my second orgasm of the night pounded through me, numbing my senses to anything but the man inside me, the pleasure he brought, and the complete and utter bliss of our union.

“Ces!” Xavier’s roar was harsh and strained. His entire body tensed to the point where I could see nearly every muscle, every vein popping from his considerable physique. He reached out his long arms, hands wrapping around my shoulders as he pulled me down to his chest while he continued to pummel into me from below.

“Feel it,” he ordered in a harsh whisper. “Fucking feel me. Feel us!”

“I do,” I whimpered into his slick skin. “Oh, God, Xavi, I do. I love you so, so, so…”

“So fucking much,” he finished for me as his hips finally slowed to a gentle rock and his breaths lengthened, though his heart continued to throb beneath my cheek.

He held me in his desperate clutch, filling me with his seed and his love and so many other unnamable things.

I barely comprehended what happened after that, how we fell from such great heights into a near slumber by each other’s limbs, how Xavier managed to lift me from the bed and carry me back upstairs, or how we crawled into my bed together and curled into each other in the quiet of night just across the hall from our daughter.

But I did remember the way his eyes sparked as he cupped my face in the dark. I’d never forget the softness of his lips as he pressed one last kiss to mine, as if to seal our reunion one more time.

“Say it again,” he whispered just as sleep arrived to claim us both.

“Yes,” I whispered, barely able to keep my eyes open. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Again,” he prodded.

I laughed.

But he didn’t laugh with me, just pulled me closer, sheltering me with the broad warmth of his shape. “Say it again,” Xavier murmured into my neck. “I’ll always want you to say it again.”

“Yes, Xavi,” I told him. “The answer will always be yes.”