Chapter 17

Xander's POV 🌶️ 🌶️

The warm evening sun glints off the lake, painting the water in strokes of gold and orange. The distant waterfall is a low, constant rumble, a sound that usually soothes me. Right now, I barely hear it. My entire world has condensed to the feeling of pure contentment warming my chest, a feeling so potent it’s almost painful. Atlas purrs in the back of my mind, a contented hum that vibrates through my soul. I sigh, utterly at peace. My arm is draped around someone, their body a warm, solid weight pressed against my side.

This is my new normal. This is how I end my days now. Wrapped up with the man I love. I breathe in deeply, expecting the familiar, comforting scent of sandalwood and cinnamon.

The scent that fills my lungs is different. It’s jasmine and citrus. Clean. Fresh. Intoxicating.

Confusion flickers, a tiny spark in the haze of my happiness. I turn my head, intending to nuzzle into a stubbled, strong jaw. My stomach gives a sudden, violent lurch.

It’s not Max.

Zahra.

She’s older, a woman grown, her hair a cascade of sunlight falling over her shoulders. Her eyes, a shocking, brilliant sapphire, are fixed on me, and the love shining in them is so intense it steals my breath. Her smile… her smile is everything. It’s warmth and light and home.

Before I can process it, before I can even think, she leans in and kisses me.

Oh, goddess.

Her mouth is so soft, so warm. Her lips move against mine with a gentle confidence that leaves me reeling. My mind is a frantic mess of this is wrong and don’t you dare stop. Her tongue slides along the seam of my lips and I open for her without a second thought. My own tongue meets hers, a hesitant caress that quickly turns eager, desperate.

Zahra. This is Zahra. My best friend’s little sister. The pesky kid who used to follow us around.

But the woman in my arms is no kid. Her body fits against mine like it was shaped for me. I pull her closer, my hand sliding from her back to her side. My thumb brushes the firm curve of her breast, just the underside, and she moans into my mouth.

The sound goes straight to my cock. It’s a shockwave of pure need. I’m hard, painfully so, straining against my trousers. I want her. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

I slide my hand up, over the perfect swell of her breast, feeling her nipple bead into a hard peak through the soft fabric of her top. My fingers continue their path, over her collarbone, up the column of her throat, until my hand is cradling her jaw, my fingers tangling in her silky hair. I tilt her head back, deepening the kiss, drinking her in. She tastes of mint and something sweet, something uniquely her.

She groans again, a low, hungry sound, and grinds her hips against the rigid length of me. The sensation is electric, almost too much. I break the kiss, my lips traveling down her jaw, finding the frantic pulse at the base of her throat. I kiss it, suck it, needing to mark her, to brand this moment into her skin.

Her breath comes in sharp, little pants. “Xander… oh, Xander.”

My name on her lips. It’s a prayer. A command. It’s the most perfect sound I’ve ever heard.

My control shatters. I fist my hand in her shirt and pull. Buttons skitter across the porch floorboards. I don’t care. I just need to see her. Her breasts are bare, pale and perfect in the golden light, her nipples a delicate shade of pink, hard and begging for my mouth.

I palm one, rolling the taut peak between my thumb and forefinger. She gasps, arching her back, pressing herself more firmly into my hand. I can feel the heat of her through our clothes, the dampness seeping through her trousers to mine. The smell of her arousal, musky and sweet, fills the air. I close my eyes and inhale, committing it to memory.

She lets out a shaky laugh. “Stop teasing me, Xander.”

Her voice is husky, deeper than I remember, laced with a desire that makes my head spin. I look up, meeting her gaze. Her eyes are dark with need, her lips swollen from my kisses.

That’s all it takes.

I move in a frenzy. I lift her, turning us, laying her back against the cushions of the love seat. My fingers fumble with the fastening of her trousers, yanking them down her legs. She kicks them off, and I tear at my own, the fabric ripping in my haste. Fuck it. Nothing matters but this. Nothing matters but her.

She’s bare now, laid out before me like a feast. Her skin is flawless, her hips curve just right, and between her thighs… goddess. She’s glistening, open and ready for me. I settle between her legs, the head of my cock pressing against her wet heat. I’m throbbing, every nerve ending screaming.

I look down at her, at this beautiful, impossible woman. “Zahra,” I groan, her name a plea.

Her answer is to wrap her legs around my waist, pulling me closer. “Please, Xander. Now.”

I thrust myself forwards, burying myself inside her in one smooth, deep stroke.

She’s so warm. So perfect. So tight.

The sensation is absolute. Overwhelming. Her inner muscles clench around me, a silken, hot fist milking my length. My eyes roll back in my head. And I Cum, so hard, my vision darkens. Fuck!

I wake as my hips buck into the air, a final, helpless spasm as the last of my release paints my stomach. The room slams back into focus. The rumpled sheets. The damp chill of sweat on my skin. The stark reality of my empty bed.