i love xavier

You just smile brightly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Of course, one rare burger and a coffee, coming right up!"

As you turn to leave, you boldly reach out and tug at a longer piece of his shiny silver mullet. "This new hairstyle really suits you! It's cute how it falls into your eyes like that. Makes me want to reach out and play with it even more..." you give the silky strands a playful flick before sashaying away to place his order, putting an extra sway in your hips knowing he's watching.

Over the past few weeks of serving Xavier nearly every day, you've come to long for these little moments—the heated glances when he thinks you're not looking, the brief touches as you refill his coffee cup, his soft voice requesting his usual order.

Memories of your first encounter flood your mind. When he’d walked in as if drawn by some invisible force straight to his now-usual booth—one that grants him an unobstructed view of your entire serving section. 

It seemed almost too perfect, too calculated to be mere coincidence… Like he’d scoped out the establishment beforehand, sliding onto the cracked vinyl seat as if he'd done so a hundred times before. But you knew it couldn't possibly be a repeat visit. You would've remembered someone as lovely as him.

And now, he always just... appears. Showing up for your shifts with perfect timing, like he has your entire schedule memorized. The days you pull doubles, he lingers until close. Never saying much, but just... there. 

He seems to zero in on the most telling details of your life with uncanny precision, too… 

Like the day of what would have been your father’s birthday… you’d been feeling particularly low, forcing a smile as you went through the motions of taking orders and pouring drinks. All the while, trying desperately to keep the grief at bay.

But there he was, sliding into his usual booth, glancing at you with those fathomless blue eyes. And later, on your break in the alley, nestled in your secret spot hidden amongst the sea of dumpsters and grimy bricks, you found it. A single forget-me-not bloom—a vibrant burst of blue radiating warmth amidst the graffiti-covered walls.

It struck you as strange, since no one else had known about your father. Not here anyway. You were new to this job, after all.

Honestly, it defies logic, the way he effortlessly plucks from the recesses of your mind and identity, weaving them into seemingly casual observations…

Like how you prefer your coffee—dark as sin, with two pumps of caramel sauce, and heavy cream. But you only treat yourself to this decadent concoction on Fridays as a reward after powering through the busy lunch rush. Certainly not something you advertise or ever mention to customers, right?

And then there’s the time he ordered oatmeal instead of his usual meal… After you delivered it to him with a quizzical look, he lifted a spoonful, letting the creamy porridge drizzle back down slowly. "I remember you saying how comforting a bowl of oatmeal feels on cold mornings… like food for the soul."

You had just stared at him in disbelief. How did he remember that throwaway comment made weeks ago, to your friend Jules when she was visiting? 

And that small birthmark shaped like a crescent moon just below your left collarbone? You've never mentioned it to anyone, always covering it with concealer… but that day last week when you bent to pick up a fallen menu, Xavier's gaze zeroed in on it, lips curving into a secretive smile as if acknowledging one of your most intimate secrets…

On one level, when it all started, you felt flattered by the attention—a mysterious, handsome stranger taking an interest in the smaller parts of who you are… it stroked your ego in a way you hadn't anticipated.

But another part of your mind, the logical part still intact amidst the butterflies set loose by those beautiful eyes, warned of the unhealthy nature of such unwavering focus. Hadn't you listened to enough true crime podcasts to know that obsessive fixation could breed all sorts of danger?

You caught yourself jumpy… paranoid even. Always feeling his gaze following you, boring into the back of your skull. Picturing him looming around corners, memorizing your comings and goings like some modern-day stalker…

That instinct, screaming that something wasn't quite right, kept you on edge, making you overly conscious of every sigh, each roll of your eyes, all the micro-expressions meant for no one's view but your own… You felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that sent chills racing down your spine.

But gradually, inexplicably, that initial prickle of unease began to morph into something else entirely… something hotter. more potent. The weight of his stare no longer brought fear, but excitement... longing.

You found yourself eagerly anticipating each shift, each opportunity to serve Xavier. Almost subconsciously, you started experimenting with your wardrobe—finding ways to make your already skimpy waitress outfit even more provocative. You hemmed the tiny skirt higher on your thighs until it was an inch away from indecency. Unbuttoned an extra button on the straining crop top to expose even more of the soft swells of your breasts. 

And your shyness has slowly given way to bolder flirtations, too—all carefully constructed to draw out that adorable blush staining those fair cheeks. Your approaches range from shameless flirtation to tender moments, hoping to crack that calm exterior bit by beautiful bit.  

Brushing your arm against his casually while pouring coffee, holding eye contact a smidge longer than professionally necessary, delivering special surprises "just because" while wearing cutesy little smiles.

You lean over his shoulder as you pour his refills, bringing your lips close to his ear to murmur innocent tidbits,

"You're not going to believe what Jimmy the cook said to me earlier about his ex-wife. It’s even better than his last story!" 

Just yesterday evening, there was an incident with ketchup...

A glob of the sticky red condiment landed smack dab on the corner of Xavier’s lips as you topped off his basket of fries. Instead of pointing it out, you pulled out a napkin. 

"Hold still," you murmured, reaching towards his face. Slowly, you leaned in, bringing the cloth to the smear. But you 'accidentally' let your fingers graze along his plump bottom lip as you dabbed away the crimson drop. 

Ever so slightly, he leaned into the touch, pupils dilating with surprise and poorly concealed hunger. For a suspended beat, the bar faded away—just you, him, and that charged moment. His tongue flicked out to wet suddenly dry lips, unintentionally grazing your fingertip and igniting a firestorm of heat low in your belly.

But, in a flash, he seemed to remember himself, jerking back abruptly. The movement caused his elbow to bump the side of the ceramic mug sitting nearby. Hot coffee sloshed over the rim and onto the tablecloth with a muted splatter. Xavier’s cheeks blazed crimson as he reached for a napkin to dab at the spreading stain, movements jerky and uncertain.

Still smiling, you placed your hand over his much larger one, stalling his frantic mopping of the spill.

"Hey, slow down…" you said, your tone gentling to a croon. "It's just a little coffee."

He froze at your touch, blue eyes flicking up to meet yours—warring between mortified and mesmerized. Slowly, tentatively, he allowed you to take the napkin from his grip.

"I'm sorry," he bit out, looking everywhere but at you. "That was clumsy of me."

“No worries," you replied airily, starting to dab at the coffee with practiced movements. In the process, you 'accidentally' brushed your thigh against his knee beneath the table—a fleeting touch, feather-light and over in an instant.

It’s impossible to miss how these not-so-subtle charms of yours affect Xavier…

The quick dart of his eyes skimming over every exposed inch of your skin before snapping away guiltily. Those long musician's fingers flexing and curling around the porcelain mug, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. The muscle that ticks in his jaw, like he's physically fighting the urge to reach out and pull you onto his lap and bury his face between your bouncing breasts…

You practically tremble with the thrill of being the thorn pricking his resolve, the forbidden fruit he craves yet refuses to taste. It's intoxicating. 

Because deep down, beneath that exterior of quiet restraint, you catch glimpses of something wild… something dangerous.

Like a wolf lurking beneath soft sheep's wool—camouflage hiding claws and fangs just waiting for the chance to pin you down and devour you whole.

And some reckless part of you aches to tempt that monstrous thing out to play… to shred that good boy act and lay bare the twisted lust coiled in his veins.

You imagine peeling back layers like the world’s prettiest present… unwrapping him down to the delicious depravity within. Pushing buttons and hitting triggers until the thin veil of formality splits.

The decision that today will be different hits you fast and hard. Enough playing coy. Time to step things up and see if you can't shatter that carefully crafted facade entirely.

With that thought burning through your mind, you approach Xavier's table like a lioness on the prowl. Today your uniform is shorter than ever before, the tiny black apron barely covering the essentials.

His head is bent over his book as always, fingers curled around a steaming mug of coffee, lost in whatever far-off thoughts occupy that brilliant mind of his. 

At the sound of your honeyed tones, blue eyes lift, widening as they clash with yours. They drink in your appearance hungrily before quickly darting away, a fierce blush rising in two angry red patches on his ears.

"Not a dream then," he murmurs, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. "You look... different today." 

You smile coyly, eyes sparkling with mischief as you lean over his table, making sure he gets a generous view down the front of your too-tight uniform. 

"You're right, Xavier, I do look different today, don't I?" you purr, setting his food down with a flourish. As you straighten up, you 'accidentally' let your hand brush against his forearm, electricity sparking at the contact. "I picked this uniform just for you, actually. Do you like the color?"

You gesture down at yourself, highlighting how the electric blue material exactly matches the stunning shade of his eyes. 

There's a long pause as Xavier processes your words, eyes flickering rapidly between your face and barely-there attire. Then recognition sparks, awareness dawning on his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. 

"You...the blue..." His voice emerges rough and low, barely above a whisper. When he meets your eyes again, twin infernos blaze back at you—supernovas primed to detonate at the slightest provocation. 

For a suspended moment, it seems you may have finally pierced that infuriating cloak of detachment he wears like armor. Raw emotion pulses hot and naked—a glimpse of the passion he keeps so ruthlessly banked.

Swallowing visibly, he rasps, "It's beautiful. Like you painted the sky on your skin just for me..." 

Then… nothing. Like the flick of a switch, the inferno burns out, smothered again under an avalanche of cool control. Xavier so effortlessly slams the brakes on the whole scenario, calmly turning back to his book and picking up right where he left off.

You clench your teeth, jaw muscles jumping as you fight the childish urge to throw a tantrum in the middle of the crowded bar. 

Okay then, time for plan B. Shameless flirtation alone isn't enough to get a real reaction. To draw out his dark side, you'll need something bigger, bolder. Something calculated to make that ice run molten in seconds flat.

Like a gift from above, a group of college-aged boys enter, their eyes immediately drawn to you as they take a table in your section. 

"Welcome in!" you chirp brightly as you bend low to lay down menus, subtly thrusting your breasts towards the jaws that drop collectively at the sight.

With Xavier in clear view, you start cranking up the flirting to an eleven. Innocence blended with a vixen's knowing wink. 

As you scribble down orders, deliberately arching your back, you hear them clumsily trying to maintain their cool while drinking in your 'charms'. 

One adorably scruffy redhead blushes crimson under his freckles when you lean in far too close, your lips nearly brushing his ear as you ask oh so innocently, "and for you, cutie?"

His "I'll take a peach milkshake please ma'am," emerges strangled, green eyes wide as saucers glued to your gaping shirt front. 

Your cheeks ache from the megawatt grin plastered on your face as you saunter over to another group of guys. These particular patrons fall into the category of textbook 'frat bros', with their polo shirts tucked neatly into designer jeans, loafers glistening under the dim lights.

"I was hoping you guys would be back!" you trill all saccharine sweet, twisting a lock of hair around your finger as you perch on the edge of their table. 

As if on cue, the blonde bro on the end slides a wandering hand up to rest high on your thigh. He gives a possessive squeeze, calloused fingers digging in.

"If you missed me, then how about you consider that date this time," he purrs, eyes roving appreciatively over your body.

Another guy leans in, hot breath ghosting over your neck as he chimes in. "Don't worry Jace, we'll make her put in overtime tonight." 

They share a wicked grin ripe with promise, looking for all the world like they intend to devour you whole. It's exactly the reaction you were hoping for. Or rather, the perfect spectacle to provoke a certain statuesque observer two tables over.

You allow yourself the barest glance in Xavier's direction. If looks truly could kill… your neck would snap clean under the weight of that blue fire boring into you. 

Gone is the typical adoring, slightly flustered expression. In its place: stone-cold ice. What meets you now is a warning—a silent, wordless scolding etched deep into aristocratic features now sharp enough to cut. 

Those kissable lips curl into the ghost of a smirk—the tiniest, most subtle quirk, really, and gone again in a flash...but unmistakably there. The headshake is slight, almost imperceptible—a micro-

motion meant to chastise without drawing notice.

Irritation flares at that reprimanding look, cheeks puffing out in a small huff. Really? Who the hell does he think he is? 

The bartender signals you, waving a bill he needs to ring up asap. Grumbling internally about lousy timing, you disengage from your frat fanclub, promising a hasty return. As you strut behind the counter, you feel that cerulean glare still boring into your back, raising the hairs along your neck.

Hunching down a bit to give your ogling audience an eyefull, you start punching numbers with deliberate slowness, dragging the transaction on for dear life. Each item takes forever to key in, making a huge deal of every little tap. All the while your ass is turned towards Xavier's line of sight, "accidentally" hitching up the dangerously short hem to reveal the delicate lace of your panties.

Feeling the burn of those eyes between your shoulder blades, you finally spin around with a bright smile plastered on. Meeting his gaze directly, those stunning blue orbs pin you like a butterfly to a corkboard.

But just as suddenly as eye contact is made, Xavier's mask settles back into place, zeroing back in on the dog-eared page of his book. A small, Mona Lisa smile plays on his kissable mouth, gone in a blink. He even has the audacity to cross one long leg elegantly over the other, body language screaming relaxed nonchalance, as if not a single thought or feeling exists beyond that simple piece of literature.

Seriously? Your hands clench into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms. 

An idea sparks hot and daring in your mind. 

You spot Graham sitting at the bar counter, sipping a whiskey neat. Your best friend since childhood, with dark locks and smoldering bedroom eyes that set half the female staff drooling.

Weaving through the crowd, you practically sprint to slide onto his lap unannounced, draping your arms around his shoulders with a radiant grin. 

No need for words—Graham makes room, arms wrapping loose around your waist to keep you steady. This familiarity is comfortable, like your oldest comfiest sweater. Thank the gods for rock-solid, platonic relationships.

His expression is knowing as he easily reads your game. Still, he humors you, holding you a little tighter. "Would you look at that… my favorite troublemaker."

Leaning in close, your lips hover over his ear as you whisper, "be my secret weapon for a minute. It's that crazy hot customer who won't bite."

He smirks into your hair, big hands splayed lightly over your hips. 

"So what's the master plan?" he stage whispers back, playfully nuzzling your cheek. Always a sucker for a grand romance scheme, especially the sticky-sweet revenge kind.

You giggle loud enough for Xavier to catch it and trace your thumb across the swell of Graham’s bottom lip, the touch feather-light. "I'm banking on his button being body shots in public."

You punctuate the naughty declaration by trailing a finger teasingly down the column of his throat.

Graham throws his head back with a hearty bark of laughter that draws several curious stares from neighboring patrons. 

"Brat is definitely the word. But I’ve gotta admit… the thought of your bookworm having a meltdown is too good to miss."

At your playful groan, he chuckles warmly and ruffles your hair, uncaring of your carefully styled locks. "Alright then, what do I have to do?"

With a wicked gleam in your eye and the biggest, brightest smile you can muster, you bounce out of Graham's lap like you've been launched from a slingshot, barely missing the surprised exclamations trailing after you. 

Wasting no time, you gather up shot glasses, salt, and an assortment of sickly-sweet shots— tequila, vodka, triple sec, the works. 

Practically dancing back to Graham's booth, you set everything on the polished wood, a delinquent grin spread ear-to-ear.

"You’re ridiculous. You know that, right?" he smirks, watching your hectic assembly of bar shots and paraphernalia with undisguised amusement. 

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Your announcement bursts forth, ringing crystal clear over the buzzing din of patrons. Heads swivel and eyes widen as the entire room zeroes right in on you. 

Perched front and center atop the table with your legs dangling off either side, you reach to pluck a salt packet from its resting tray. With practiced motions, you pour a trail of white granules from your neck and down the valley between your breasts, all the way to your belly button.

"This bodyshot special, starring the infamous Graham!"

Oohs and ahhs ripple out from the onlookers, their hungry gazes tracing every tempting curve of your body. 

"That's more like it," Graham grins playfully. With careful precision, he parts his lips slowly to accept each shot from your stomach, pressing seemingly reverent kisses between sips. The bar erupts into whoops and hollers, spurring the sultry display on.

You let your gaze collide with that statue-still form propped stiffly in his booth. The expression warring across those perfect features is absolutely priceless.

A livid flush mottles fair cheeks usually so serene and controlled. Gorgeous lips thin into a harsh slash, both sexy and terrifying in their displeasure. 

Something primal ignites in Xavier as that tongue drags over the salt-licked planes of your skin. Each pass stokes the fire higher, those eyes a stormy sea as they map every shudder and gasp coaxed forth.

Without breaking stride, you tilt your chin up boldly to meet those cerulean lasers boring into you with blatant challenge. Tension stretches taut as violin strings ready to snap at any given moment, the charged atmosphere practically vibrating with it.

Pulse jumping, you plop back onto Graham's thighs, draping limp over his frame like a boneless cat. 

"Perfection itself. Thank you for your service.” Your voice drips with honey and mischief in equal measure, eyes sparkling up at him.

Dark eyes glimmer with mirth as they flick pointedly to where Xavier had been holding court mere moments ago.

But as suddenly as he arrived, he’s gone—vanishing out the door in a swish of white cotton, leaving only the jingle of the bell and the stunned silence in his wake.

Shit shit SHIT

"It seems the subject of our little performance may have exited stage left." 

Graham tsks softly, the sound tinged with equal parts sympathy and amusement. "What a pity. And here I thought we'd really grabbed the guy's attention."

Shrugging lightly with exaggerated casualness, you force a carefree laugh that sounds far less convincing than intended. Graham's knowing look tells you he sees right through the facade.

"His loss!" you proclaim brightly, already sliding off his lap and smoothing out your rumpled apron. "More body shots for us then!"

This earns you an eye roll and a wry chuckle from your friend. Graham shakes his head, lips curled in that infuriating 'I know you better than you know yourself' smirk.

The bartender chooses that precise moment to emerge from the backroom lugging a case of liquor. 

Grumbling something that suspiciously sounds like "need to hire better help" under his breath, he starts unloading bottles onto the shelf with way more force than necessary. It's clear he caught the end of your little show. Colorful thoughts are written all over his face.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of mixing drinks, wiping down surfaces, and plastering on your grin for the endless parade of patrons.

Your stomach churns with self-loathing. Of course it hurt him. Of course seeing that would devastate someone as decent and caring as Xavier. Hadn't you always sensed the depth of emotion simmering beneath his quiet exterior?

The guilt has felt crushing, threatening to swallow you whole for hours.

As the clock ticks past last call, the bar steadily empties until only a few die-hard regulars linger. You keep yourself busy with menial tasks—restocking, cleaning, cashing out.

Hours later, bleary-eyed and ready to drop, you heave a sigh as the final customer stumbles out into the cool night air. At long last, blessed silence descends.

Feeling grimy and weary after the chaotic night, you duck into the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face before pushing through the door to return to the main area. 

But as you round the corner…

There he is. In the exact booth where you and Graham put on such an attention-grabbing show just hours earlier.

That's not what steals the very breath from your lungs though. No, that honor belongs solely to the tableau laid out across the tabletop—a veritable shrine to your earlier debauchery.

Everything that was scattered haphazardly across the table top in your body shot extravaganza sits tidily arranged, as if museum exhibit pieces rather than remnants of a provocative act. Crystal clear liqueurs stand soldier straight, empty shot glasses glitter around their base camp. White grains of salt remain dusted along your previous path like flour on a crime scene.  

Those twin pools of arctic blue are fixed on you with an intensity that borders on feverish. Never blinking. Never looking away. A statuesque portrait of absolute control despite the tempest raging behind porcelain features.

He ticks one elegant finger, pointing imperiously at the unoccupied table beside him. His voice emerges from tightly pressed lips, eerily calm, barely above a whisper.

"Lie down."

A shiver ripples down your spine, the instinctive urge to obey warring with the small voice of reason screaming at you to run. Get out now while you still can. What twisted web have you tangled yourself in?

Against every rational bone in your body, your feet carry you forward as if operating on their own accord. 

The closer you get, the more you can see a faint tremor in those oh-so-steady hands clenched white-knuckle tight. One breathless step leads into another, until-

With a confidence that belies the racing of your heart, you confidently hoist yourself up onto the table, moving deliberately slow, sprawling your body across the surface with feline grace. Curls of hair fan out artfully around your head like a halo.

"You wanted me lying down? Like this perhaps?"

Your melodic voice purrs as full lips stretch into a coy smile, the very picture of nonchalance despite the gravity of the situation. 

His movements are languid, almost predatory, as he rises with fluid grace from his seat. With each click of sneaker on polished floor, you feel the weight of his gaze grow heavier… suffocating.

Breathe in, breathe out. Don't let him see how badly your nerves are shredding themselves into ribbons beneath your skin.

Stopping at the foot of the makeshift altar, he looms over your reclined figure. Cool fingertips ghost upward, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he traces the line of your inner thigh.

Roaming eyes drink in every detail—the spill of curls against wood, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way the limited lighting casts pretty shadows across your body. 

Lips curling with a small smirk, Xavier tilts his head, silver locks falling artfully into those piercing cerulean eyes as they bore into yours.

"You really believe batting those pretty lashes will erase the fact that you were moaning on some pretty boy's cock for the whole world to see tonight?" Voice dripping venom, his words hit like well-aimed slaps. Yet still his cadence remains steady, almost bored, as if your shameless behavior is little more than an annoyance to be tolerated.

Despite yourself, you feel a traitorous warmth blossoming low in your belly at his harsh scolding, shame and arousal twisting into a confusing knot. Biting your lip, you squirm slightly under his penetrating stare.

Then, his words fully registering, indignation flares hot in your chest. With a swift, sharp motion, you jerk your leg from his grasping fingers.

Glowering up at him, cheeks flushed with anger and guilty excitement, you hiss: "who do you think you are, judging me? You don't own me, Xavier. You haven’t even made a single move! I can flirt with whoever I want without you throwing a tantrum like a spoiled child."

In a flash, powerful hands close around your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh as he hauls you roughly to the very edge of the tabletop. Gasping, you barely have time to register the movement before he’s there, stepping into the V of your splayed thighs.

Bracing his forearms on the table, he leans down until his nose nearly brushes yours, invading your personal space completely.

"But that's where you're wrong." His voice lowers to a hypnotic purr. "Your body, this body..." Cool fingers dig into your hipbones, surely leaving bruises come morning. "...it's already marked mine. Made for me. Writhing so prettily, desperate for my touch..." 

A muscle twitches in Xavier’s jaw, eyes flashing dangerously as he murmurs: "Did you really think I wouldn't come claim what's rightfully mine when I saw fit?"

His palm cradles your cheek, thumb brushing tenderly over the swell of your bottom lip. The gentleness of the gesture contrasts sharply with the wicked gleam in his eyes, promising retribution and pleasure in equal measure.

"I wasn't ready yet... but you just had to push me, didn't you?" Disapproval roughens his tone, tinged with reluctant admiration. "Well… did you enjoy being draped across strange men's laps all night, giggling and blushing like the world's most adorable cocktease?" 

His palm splays across your bare stomach, fingers splayed wide. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, branding you with his touch. "Acting like a little slut… all for my eyes alone.”

Leaning in until his forehead rests against yours, Xavier nuzzles into your hair, inhaling deeply as if committing your scent to memory.

"...and now there's no going back.”

“Excuse me!?" you squeak indignantly, wriggling in his iron grip as if trying to escape. But it's a feeble effort at best, your body instinctively arching into his touch instead of away from it. "I'm not anyone's property, least of all some arrogant stranger who thinks he can just—mmmph!"

Silky strands of silver hair brush your skin as he dips his head to close the distance between you, capturing your parted lips in a searing kiss.

Warm, firm, insistent—Xavier’s mouth claims yours with single-minded focus, pouring everything he has into the heated press of skin on skin. Your hands fly up to clutch at his arms, fingers digging in as your body arches off the table, desperately chasing more of him.

He swallows your whimpers greedily, tongue dipping past your lips, stroking and tangling with your own. A large palm rests across your lower back, pressing your core flush against his straining cock, grinding slowly, deliciously. 

When he finally breaks away, you're both panting harshly, faces flushed and lips swollen. He looks... hungry. Feral. Like a man who's finally given himself permission to indulge in the darkness.

"Your body disagrees..." Deft fingers pluck at the fastenings of your skin-tight uniform. Slowly, torturously slowly. "Your skin flushes red wherever I touch you… you're practically grinding against me like a cat in heat."

Your eyes narrow defiantly even as you squirm against his hold, cheeks flushed a pretty pink that has nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with being incredibly turned on.

"That does NOT mean you own me, Xavier! We barely even know each other!" The petulant declaration rings hollow even to your own ears. Still, pride demands you cling to your scraps of rebellion, refusing to surrender just yet.

Emboldened by irritation, you lean forward, attempting to nip sharply at Xavier’s jawline. Teeth graze his chin, soft enough not to break skin but sharp enough to draw a gasp.

"Not impressed." Wide hands bracket your hips in a vice-like grip, holding you perfectly immobile atop the table. 

"You bit me to make a point." The corner of his mouth crooks into a smirk as cool fingers trace the edge of your ear before wrapping gently around your throat. Not squeezing, merely resting there. 

"Besides, I was watching you long before I ever walked through that door. Observing every sway of your hips as you walk home at night… the way you toss your hair, the cute little noises you make..."

Eyes wide as saucers, you try to scramble back on the tabletop, fingers flexing anxiously at your sides. Color drains from your face as the true implications of his words sink in.

"Are...are you saying what I think you're saying? You’ve been… stalking me?" Your voice wavers, scarcely above a whisper. You search his chiseled features intently, hardly daring to blink, fear warring with a thrilling sense of...what? Danger? Excitement?

When you reach out, shaking hands grasp frantically at the first thing they can find—the fabric of his hoodie.

"Stalking implies malicious intent. I prefer to think of it as...careful observation." His voice is silk and sin, caressing your skin like a tangible thing. "Watching you blossom, waiting for you to notice me..."

Gentle fingers comb through your hair lovingly as he speaks, a jarring contrast to the intensity smoldering in his eyes.

"And we're neighbors, did you know that?" The words are soft, almost… nervous. "I noticed you on your first day here, struggling valiantly with those oversized boxes." 

For a moment, your entire body goes still before realization dawns, slow and sickening, as the pieces click into place with nauseating clarity.

"A year? You've been... watching me... the whole time I've lived here?" Your voice trembles, scarcely above a breathless rasp. Hands fist tighter in the front of his hoodie, knuckles turning white with the force of your grip as you recall the feeling of eyes on you late at night as you stumbled home from nights out, thinking it was just your imagination…

17 months. This beautifully flawed man has been following you, observing you, craving you...for 17 months. The sheer intensity and duration of his obsession sends a tremor through your entire being, equal parts thrilling and unsettling.

A hand threads into your hair, gripping just tightly enough to hold you in place as the words tumble out like a confession ripped from somewhere deep and raw inside him.

"I know it sounds crazy," Xavier murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. "Believe me, I’ve questioned my sanity a hundred times…”

Self-deprecation etches deep lines beside his mouth as his forehead comes to rest against yours, thick lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks.

You huff out an exasperated breath, pouting up at him adorably as you try to muster up some semblance of anger. “You can't just stalk someone for a year and expect them to be okay with it, Xavier. It’s… it’s obsessive!" In truth, your heart is fluttering traitorously at his passionate confession, desire pooling heavily in your belly.

He just smirks at your half-hearted protest, clearly seeing right through your feigned anger. Despite the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you, you find yourself melting into him, your body fitting perfectly against his like two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. 

“You’re right… it is. But I won't apologize for wanting you, for needing you in my life," he murmurs, voice low and fervent. His lips brush against your temple in a fleeting caress. “I'm past the point of caring.”

Warm breath ghosts over your ear as he confesses: "From the moment you tumbled into my life like a falling star… you’ve consumed my every waking thought.”

"The way you tilt your head when you're really focused on something. How you hum to yourself as you water your plants on Sundays. The tiny crescent-shaped birthmark just above your left collarbone… there isn’t a part of you that I don’t know.”

Pupils blown wide and dark, he gazes at you like a man starved… desperate. "...I tried to fight it. Tried to be a good man…”

His voice cracks slightly, thick with emotion and barely repressed hunger. Warm palms slide down your sides, ghosting reverently, mapping the contours of your form.

"...but every time I tried to tear my eyes away, I found them drawn inexorably back to you. Like a moth to flame..." Fingers hook into the waistband of your skirt, tugging insistently. "...burning for the chance to map your softness, to brand myself into your skin until the only word in your pretty little head is my name..."

You find yourself responding as if in a trance, pliant as Xavier gradually slips the skirt down your trembling thighs. Cool air kisses exposed skin as you’re left in just a scrap of lace, the flimsy barrier covering your most intimate area.

"I started observing you because I wanted to make you mine..." His tone is one of dark, seductive promise as a calloused finger traces the edge of your panties, trailing slowly across the damp material. Your breath catches audibly in your throat, pulse skyrocketing at the feather-light touch. "But in time, I came to crave every...little...detail about you."

Quickly pinning your wrists above your head, his free hand slides teasingly along your inner thigh, stopping mere inches from where you need him most.

"Did you know I memorized your phone number from all the deliveries you sign for at the mailroom? Watched as your cheeks would pinken whenever a handsome stranger's gaze lingered too long..."

A choked moan spills from your parted lips as Xavier's teasing touch skims higher, thumbs circling the juncture of your hip, leaving you aching and empty. Your back arches involuntarily, pushing your chest towards him, shamelessly begging for more.

"I even..." he starts, voice rough with emotion, then pauses, seeming to struggle internally. When he speaks again, the words come out tinged with shame. "I... accessed your apartment once. Twice. I just... I needed to be closer to you." His eyes bore into yours, searching for any hint of revulsion that might dawn in their depths. "There was this one night…you were fast asleep in bed, curled up like an angel. I sat there for hours, just watching you breathe, committing every small expression to memory…”

One large hand comes up to cradle your cheek tenderly, thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. "I know it's wrong. Invading your privacy like that. But I... I couldn't stay away." His voice drops to a hoarse whisper, raw with longing and remorse. "Some nights, all I want is to lay beside you, wrap you in my arms as we drift off together…"

Slowly, as if giving you time to pull away, he leans in until your breaths mingle, noses brushing.

At first, shock roots you to the spot, paralyzed by the weight of his confession. A chill runs down your spine at the sheer invasion of your private space, the utter lack of boundaries in his obsession. It's a violation, plain and simple. and yet...

The naked anguish etched across his face cracks open your chest like a knife. And in that suspended moment, caught between fear and an undeniable, magnetizing pull… you make your choice.

"Shh, it's okay," you murmur, lifting a trembling hand to smooth silvery hair from his forehead with exquisite tenderness. Cradling his jaw, you cup his face in your palms as if he were something infinitely precious. "I... I'm here now."

For a long moment, Xavier remains perfectly still, eyes wide and disbelieving as they search your face for any sign of deceit or pity. Then, slowly, hesitantly, he leans into your caress like a flower turning towards the sun. Closing his eyes, he nuzzles into your hand with a shuddery exhale.

"A-am I dreaming?" he whispers hoarsely, words ragged with wonder. One large hand comes up to cover yours, sandwiching it between his palm and flushed cheek. Calloused fingers intertwine with your own, holding on like a lifeline. "If this is real... if you're truly here, accepting me..."

A strangled sound catches in his throat, perilously close to a sob. Strong arms band around your waist, crushing you to his chest as if to prove your solidity. You feel his erratic heartbeat against your own racing pulse, the slight catch of breath with each inhale.

With infinite tenderness, you stroke your fingers through his silky strands, savoring the cool slide against your skin. Your other hand traces comforting patterns along the tense line of his spine.

"This isn't a dream, Xavier," you assure softly, punctuating your words with a playful nip to his earlobe. Feeling him jolt in surprise before relaxing into the gesture makes warmth bloom in your chest.

Pulling back slightly, you meet his gaze, amusement dancing in your eyes even as sincere affection colors your tone. "But if we're going to explore whatever this is between us..."

Your lips quirk into a devious little smirk as you trail a single finger down the plane of his abdomen, feeling him suck in a sharp breath.

"...then I'm going to insist you start seeing a therapist. Sooner rather than later," you add, holding his eyes captive with your own unwavering stare. There's no judgment in your expression, only fierce determination and loving patience.

"This thing that led you to stalk, to invade my privacy... we're going to unpack it. Examine what it means, where it comes from, and figure out how to channel it in a healthy way moving forward."

Xavier's face splits into a dazzling grin at your unexpected words, crinkling the corners of those mesmerizing blue eyes. "Therapy? Is that your professional diagnosis, doctor?" he teases, playful silver brow arched. But with a look somewhere between reverence and relief, he nods slowly. The vulnerability is clear on his features, eyes glassy and red-rimmed but alight with cautious hope.

"Whatever it takes," he vows solemnly, meeting your gaze with an intensity that steals your breath away. "I'll walk through hell itself if it means keeping you by my side."

Emotion roughens his tone, his very soul bleeding through the carefully constructed walls he's maintained for so long. Large hands frame your face tenderly as he gazes at you like a mirage come to life, drinking in every beloved detail. 

"Stay with me… please.”

The last word hangs heavy, laden with all the yearning in his heart.

Wrapping your arms snugly around his neck, you surge forward to claim his lips in a kiss that speaks volumes more than words ever could. 

Soft lips mold seamlessly against his own, plush and giving. Fingers immediately tangle in silver locks, fisting and tugging lightly as you draw him impossibly closer. 

Xavier responds with a low, guttural groan, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other cradles the nape of your neck. He deepens the kiss with swift, devouring strokes of his tongue against yours, mapping out every secret hollow. Each slick slide and graze of teeth sends electric shocks straight down your spine.

Pulling back with a soft 'pop', his eyes glitter with a mischievous light. "Now then, my little exhibitionist..." A wicked grin spreads across his face as he reaches out to toy with the strap of your bra, tracing the thin material with a fingertip.  "I seem to recall you were putting on quite the show earlier." 

His lips quirk up in a roguish smirk as he cups your cheek, thumb stroking over the delicate curve of your cheekbone. "Fortunately for you, I'm fully aware that your friendship with Graham is... strictly platonic." Those captivating cerulean eyes dance with mirth and more than a flicker of possessiveness.

Narrowing your eyes, you give him a pointed glare that lacks any real heat. "Kind of a jerk, aren't you?"

Silver brows shoot up in mock offense, a devilish grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He catches your wrist, bringing your knuckles to his lips in a surprisingly tender kiss. “Maybe. But you? You're a grade-A brat.”

Pressing a finger to your lips, Xavier shushes your impending rant. “A brat who's been deliberately trying to provoke me for weeks with her tight little outfits and adorable smiles," he accuses. Leaning in, he nips sharply at your pulse point, soothing the sting with a swirl of his tongue. 

Reaching behind him, he procures the necessary items—a bottle of tequila, a platter of limes cut into wedges, salt. Setting them down on the nearby table, his gaze roams over your form appreciatively, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Xavier reaches out, hooking a finger under the strap of your azure uniform top. With deliberate slowness, he peels the scanty fabric away from your shoulder, the backs of his fingers grazing your sensitive skin in a maddeningly light caress.

He begins the process, hands shaking only a little as he carefully pours a line of salt from just below your collarbone to the valley between your breasts.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, almost painfully soft. When you squirm around shyly, he stops you with a tender press of fingers to your hip.

"Please... let me look at you. Just for a second."

Ever so slowly, he trails the backs of his knuckles down the salted path, raising goosebumps in their wake. 

His voice comes out hushed and full of awe as he traces over the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, and further down still until his fingertips rest just above your belly button.

"Every inch of you is perfect… almost painfully so," he breathes, drinking in the sight hungrily. His gaze is intense, almost feverish in its focus. When blue eyes finally lift to meet yours, they glitter with desire and something deeper, almost worshipful.

Taking the lime wedge between thumb and forefinger, he brings it to your lips. Instead of simply allowing you to take it, he brushes the slick fruit across your bottom lip teasingly. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you practically melt into the table, a soft sigh escaping parted lips. The liquor bottle teeters precariously at the corner of your mouth, the anticipation sending your pulse into overdrive.

Delicately, he cradles the nape of your neck with his free hand and begins to tilt the bottle. Cool liquid floods your mouth, burning pleasantly down your throat. 

Elegant fingers release the bottle to skim down the length of your outer thigh, calloused tips dragging lazily over the smooth skin. "Being bratty doesn't suit you nearly as well as obedience..." Xavier muses.

The slap rings out sharply in the charged air, snapping your head to the side. For a stunned instant, you sit motionless, mind reeling from the sudden sting. Then, like lightning igniting dry kindling, arousal blazes through your veins.

Slowly, you roll your head back toward him, fixing Xavier with a smoldering look from beneath lowered lashes.

The words pour forth, dripping with sweet innocence, a delicate pout, full lower lip pushed out in feigned reproach.

"It didn't even hurt, Xavier. Not really. You'll have to do better than that if you want to get through to me.”

Suddenly, your hair is yanked, using it as leverage to pull your head back and expose the column of your throat. The angle allows him perfect access to pepper hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jumping pulse. Teeth graze the sensitive skin, applying just enough pressure to send shivers cascading down your spine.

A breathless moan slips past your lips, the erotic sting of his grip in your hair combined with the delicious pressure of teeth and tongue creating a dizzying flood of pleasure.

Bracing himself above you, Xavier drinks in the perfectly debauched picture you make—hair mussed, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed and hazy with lust. A muscle ticks in his jaw as he warrs with restraint, hands flexing on either side of your head like he's physically holding himself back from just fucking you into the table.

"So responsive... so fucking perfect for me…" he rasps, the sound rough and ragged, threaded with desperation. “What are you doing to me? Every time I'm near you, I feel... so overwhelmed…”

"Probably not even a tenth of how I feel about you." The whisper leaves your throat, colored by a web of nerves and honesty.

Capturing his earlobe between your teeth, you bite down just hard enough to sting before soothing the hurt with a teasing flick of tongue.

In one fluid motion, powerful hands grasp your hips and thighs fall open automatically, knees bent and feet flat on the edge. 

Brows rising, a smirk plays at the corners of Xavier’s mouth as he takes in the sight of your barely-there panties. He hums thoughtfully, tracing the damp spot darkening the hot pink fabric with a fingertip. 

"I wonder..." Tilting his head, silver hair spills over his forehead adorably even as sin-filled eyes pin you in place. "Do you think I can slide these off with my teeth?"

Lifting your hips invitingly, a breathy giggle escapes your lips at the playful question. Eyes sparkling with mischief, you prop yourself up on your elbows, drinking in the sexy sight of him poised between your thighs.

“That depends on whether your mouth is quicker than your hands," you taunt softly, voice honey-sweet.

“Mmm… this works too…" he murmurs before abruptly yanking. The flimsy fabric yields with an audible rip, parting like tissue paper under his strength. Cool air hits your newly exposed skin as he tosses the torn scraps aside carelessly, cerulean gaze zeroing in on your glistening folds hungrily.

"A-and just what was so wrong with those!?" you sputter indignantly, cheeks flaming. At least he has the decency to look somewhat sheepish... before that infuriating grin spreads across his handsome face.

Hands plant firmly on your hips as Xavier braces himself above you,  eyes sparkling with wicked amusement.

"Where's that obedience we talked about?" His breath tickles the shell of your ear, sending tingles skittering across your skin. Large hands knead your ass, pulling you impossibly closer until you can feel the thick ridge of his cock pressing against your stomach.

Dropping a teasing peck on the tip of your nose, he pulls back with a wink, drinking in the adorable pout settling on your kiss-swollen lips.

Gasping sharply as he suddenly plunges two thick fingers into your sopping wet cunt, your velvety walls instinctively clench around the welcome intrusion. 

Scissoring his fingers, he begins a relentless rhythm, crooking them just right to hit that special spot deep inside. Writhing beneath him, fingers scrabble desperately at his hoodie as jolts of raw pleasure zing up your spine.

"Please... please don't stop..." you plead brokenly, eyes rolling back in bliss.  Slickness trickles steadily down his wrist, the heel of his palm grinding mercilessly against your aching clit with each deep thrust. Stars burst behind your eyelids, muscles beginning to flutter and tremble around his pistoning fingers.

Your breathing turns erratic, small whimpers and mewls of pleasure slipping from your lips as he skillfully works you higher and higher. Winding tighter, coiled like a spring ready to snap, every drag of his fingers against your swollen walls pushes you closer to that glorious peak.

"That's it, angel," he croons, that soft, filthy voice thrumming directly to your core. "Soak my fingers like the desperate little slut you are. Gonna make you fall apart on my hand first..."

But just as your thighs begin to tremble and a keening cry builds in your throat, Xavier abruptly stills his movements.

"N-no...please, Xavier! I was s-so close!" Your legs twitch weakly, empty walls clenching hungrily around nothing. 

Holding you in place with a firm hand on your hip, his  expression radiates male satisfaction, smug grin widening as your breath hitches and your body wiggles aimlessly.

"Nope, don’t think so," he chides, drinking in your wanton desperation. His free hand cups your jaw tenderly, thumb brushing your bottom lip. "We just started playing and you're already breaking?"

He tsks, tracing fingers over your body in a filthy mimicry of the salt he traced down your front before.

Then he takes advantage of your parted lips to slip his fingers inside, pressing them to the roof of your mouth, forcing you to suckle like a pacifier. Arousal spikes as he sets a languid pace, pumping slowly.

"Such a good girl, cleaning up her mess..." 

Slutty, desperate noises fill the room as he relentlessly fucks your mouth, pace turning harder, deeper. Saliva dribbles messily down your chin and neck, pooling between heaving breasts.

Pausing with fingers buried to the knuckle, Xavier leans in, licking a hot stripe up the column of your throat before nipping at the juncture where it meets your shoulder. "So. Goddamn. Fucking. Sexy." He punctuates each word with a sharp thrust, groaning raggedly at the vision you make.

Your hips buck shamelessly as he withdraws his hand and pushes two long saliva coated fingers back inside your needy cunt, curling and stroking just right.

"This is torture, Xavier..." you gasp brokenly between labored breaths. Sweat mists your flushed skin, sticking strands of hair to your forehead.

“Uh uh. Not torture.” His raspy murmur sends sparks skating down your spine. "You're just so tight and wet and perfect… I don't want to let you go."  

Dipping his head, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the sweaty skin there as he continues the relentless thrusting of his fingers. 

"Go ahead then… do it." he murmurs low and rough. “Let go on my hand just like this…”

Obediently, your pussy clenches greedily, trying to keep him inside as he hilts his fingers over and over. Gushes of slick juice coat his palm, making obscene squelching sounds with each thrust.

Waves crash over you relentlessly, pulling you under until you can't breathe or see or do anything but FEEL. Your keening wail rings out, thighs shaking uncontrollably, back arching as far as it will go…

Xavier captures the sight of you coming undone, committing every hitched gasp and satisfied whimper to memory. "So perfect like this... writhing on my fingers like they were made just for you… which they were."

Through the haze, you feel gentle hands smoothing over your sweat-dampened hair and cupping your cheek tenderly. And when your bleary eyes finally focus, they meet the most breathtaking sight they’ve ever seen—cerulean pools filled with burning adoration gazing back at you.

After tucking the last strands behind your ear with trembling fingers, Xavier nuzzles your nose in a gesture so affectionate that it makes your heart ache. 

"Was that...too much?" he asks quietly, voice pitched lower than usual, tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

His thumbs trace soothing circles on your cheekbones as he searches your face, checking for any signs of discomfort.

But a blissful smile blooms across your features, love-drunk and thoroughly sated. You reach up to wind your arms around his neck, tugging him closer until you can rest your forehead against his.

Shaking your head softly in response to his question, you answer with a breathy murmur.  "Not nearly enough."

Before he can respond, you surge forward, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. 

When you eventually break away, panting lightly, you cling to him like he's the only solid thing in the world.

"You're not allowed to ever let me go now, Xavier," you declare with a watery giggle, trying to inject some playfulness even as your words ring with earnest conviction. “I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, arms still wrapped snugly around your waist. 

"Is that so? Well… that was easy," he murmurs with a playful smirk, blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he looks down at you, drinking in the deliciously disheveled state he's put you in—the glassy, half-lidded eyes, the pink flush still painting your cheeks, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

An impish glint appears as you gaze up at him from lowered lashes, a cute little smirk playing about kiss-swollen lips. "But you know… some would argue there's still a bit of brat in me needing to be put in her place…”

An amused snort escapes as warm lips brush the shell of your ear and he lowers his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Face it… We both know I've been observing you long enough to realize that quality might be permanent."

Slowly, Xavier hauls your limp form upright, steadying you as you sway dizzily. Your legs threaten to give out at any second, limbs noodley and weak in the aftermath of your earth-shattering climax. But he's there, solid and warm, strong arms wrapped securely around your waist.

"You okay?" 

At your nod, he steps back just enough to grasp your upper arms, turning you and guiding you towards the polished floor. The cool surface is shocking against your heated skin as he lowers you gently to your knees. 

"Just like that," he praises softly, large hands kneading your shoulders. They slide down your arms before gripping your wrists and drawing your shaking hands to the button of his jeans.

With trembling fingers, you fumble clumsily with his zipper, too lost in post-orgasmic haze to manage the simple task. Xavier’s soft hum vibrates against your ear, breath warm on your neck as he reaches down to help, roughly yanking the metal tab down in one swift motion.

With practiced ease, he frees his cock from the confines of his jeans, the thick shaft hard and heavy in his palm. Your eyes widen at the impressive size, a needy whimper escaping your throat.

Rustling fabric meets the air as he shrugs off his hoodie next, baring smooth planes of toned muscle. Sweat trickles over carved abs, drawing your hungry gaze.

Slowly swirling his hips, he rubs the dripping head teasingly along the seam of your lips, smearing sticky pre-cum across messily.

"Desperation suits you, you know that? These needy little whimpers you can't seem to hold back..." 

Your own pulse pounds between your thighs as you part your lips instinctively, pink tongue darting out to lap at the leaking slit. The salty tang bursts across your taste buds and your eyelids flutter shut with a breathy moan.

Grasping your hair firmly, one big hand tangles in the silky strands, gripping tightly enough to sting deliciously as he guides you forward. 

"All the way. Take every inch," Xavier commands, putting pressure on the back of your head. "Wanna feel this cute little nose pressed against my pelvis. Understand?"

Unable to speak around the thick cock stretching your lips obscenely wide, you nod and try to relax your jaw. Then, keeping eye contact, you sink forward slowly as you swallow around his length, muscles fluttering and massaging.

A choked moan echoes through the space, his grip tightening painfully in your hair. "Yes...take it deeper... such a good girl for me…”

You pull back until just the tip remains between your lips before diving back down, setting a steady rhythm. Muffled slurps and gags fill the air as you work yourself up and down his spit-slicked cock. 

Drool leaks from the corners of your stretched lips, dripping onto your heaving chest until finally, with a shuddering gasp, your nostrils flare against the base of his shaft, tears prickling and rolling freely down your reddened cheeks.

Calloused thumbs brush reverently over your blotchy cheeks, smearing moisture around to your temples. "That’s my angel. Look at you… gagging so pretty on it."

Slowly, carefully, he eases you off his throbbing length, admiring the way your lips cling reluctantly to the swollen head. Strings of saliva and precum connect obscenely, stretching until finally breaking to dribble messily down your chin.

Xavier groans at the erotic sight, pupils blown wide with desire. Swiping his thumb through the trails of slick moisture, he presses it firmly against your swollen bottom lip, encouraging you to part for him.

"So responsive..." he murmurs approvingly, watching avidly as you whimper before kittenishly lapping and suckling at the finger offered to you. 

"Wanna hear those slutty noises when I push back inside too." Quick peeks at your face as he slowly sinks in balls-deep, droplets of precum painting your tonsils, gag reflex fluttering desperately… Then he holds still, buried impossibly deep until you start to convulse slightly. Only then does he pull back with an anguished groan.

Without warning, hands shoot out to palm your tits roughly, fingers digging into the soft flesh through the thin lace of your bra. With one hard yank, he tugs the flimsy cups down, freeing your breasts just enough to bounce loose.

"Fuck yeah," Xavier groans, greedy hands engulfing the swells almost painfully, kneading like dough between skilled fingers. Thumbs swipe mercilessly over the stiffened buds, pinching and rolling until your back arches sharply.

"You've been tempting me with these perfect fucking tits every shift for weeks..." Hot puffs of breath mingle with kisses and nips across your collarbone, each one hard enough to leave blooming marks.

"... Bending over just right, 'accidentally' letting me glimpse down that tight little uniform..."

Leaning in close, teeth scraping lightly along the shell of your ear, he whispers, "and then you went and bought that slutty little outfit that hugs your every curve like a sky-colored second skin..." 

His hand finds your hair again, fisting roughly as he starts bobbing your head faster, forcing your slick lips up and down his spit-shined shaft. 

"You did that on purpose. Dressed up like my personal fucktoy, hoping I'd snap and bend you over the nearest flat surface..." 

Mumbling and sputtering incoherently around the thick intrusion plugging your throat, you narrow your teary eyes at Xavier. 

Seeing the mutinous glare, he pauses with an aggrieved grunt, holding himself at the back of your throat. After a long moment, he slowly pulls out, releasing you. 

When finally allowed to speak, coughing harshly and gasping for breath, words spill out in a heated rush: 

"I wouldn't have had to resort to such...such measures if you hadn't spent nearly two damn years just lurking around, content to eye-fuck me forever. You could have just asked me out!"”

Xavier’s smile turns positively wicked as his free hand wraps loosely around your throat. 

"Fair enough," he muses, silvery locks tumbling into baby blue eyes as he grins down at your flushed face.

He tightens his fist in your hair again, grip bordering on painful as he roughly yanks your head back to the optimal angle. Another harsh tug makes you yelp, eyes squeezing shut as a burst of tears leaks from the corners.

Slowly, deliberately, he starts to stroke himself with languid movements. The swollen head bobs before your disbelieving eyes as copious amounts of pearly fluid weep steadily from the slit.

The sticky tip nudges against your trembling lips as he leans in even closer. When he speaks again, the words emerge clipped and terse with barely restrained hunger:

"Lick. Clean my cock.”

Trembles rip through your body as you gaze up at Xavier adoringly, meeting that scorching cerulean stare head-on without flinching away. Your tongue snakes out, tracing feather-light over the weeping slit. 

He groans above you, fingertips flexing against your scalp in encouragement. Drool trickles down your chin as you take more into your mouth, wrapping your lips around his shaft and hollowing your cheeks. Up and down you bob your head, establishing a rhythm that has him hissing in pleasure. 

Choked gurgles fill the room, each thrust bumping the back of your throat raw, tears streaming freely. 

Xavier watches entranced as you work him with desperate slurps and gags, fingertips digging in almost cruelly now. 

"That's it, just like that..." His other hand cradles the base of your skull, holding you in place as he rocks into your throat. Each thrust forces a strained squeal past swollen lips, drool dribbling obscenely down your chin. "So messy for me already… just built to milk me dry."

Eyes rolling back from the force of his thrusts, you submit to being used so deliciously. But suddenly, with a tortured groan, he yanks your head back by the hair, forcing you off his throbbing cock with a filthy pop. 

In one swift motion, strong arms wrap around your waist, hauling you up from your knees. You yelp in surprise as you're lifted, legs instinctively winding around his hips. 

The edge of the table bites into your back as he lays you down none-too-gently, silver hair falling forward to frame his face. Eyes glazed with lust, he drinks in the sight of you sprawled beneath him. In a flash, hands push your thighs apart and up, opening you fully to his hungry gaze. 

"Open wider for me. Wanna see all of you," he murmurs, gripping the backs of your knees and practically folding you in half. 

Xavier grips his cock in one hand, stroking himself furiously as the swollen head notches against your clit. Tears of desperation prickle the corners of your eyes, arching off the tabletop as you seek more of the delicious friction. 

"Come for me," he demands, circling the little bud faster and faster. Rivulets of precum smear across your folds, mixing obscenely with your own arousal as he works you mercilessly.

With a sharp cry, your release crashes over you. Back bowing almost painfully, inner walls clamping down on nothing as liquid heat gushes forth. 

Through lidded eyes, you watch as Xavier continues to stroke himself, your fluids now making his cock glisten obscenely in the low light.  Holding your thighs open wider, he lines himself up and sinks in to the hilt with one brutal thrust, swallowing your startled moan.

"Fuck yes, feel how wet you are..." pulling almost all the way out, he slams back in, setting a punishing pace right from the start. The table shudders beneath you with each powerful snap of his hips, a filthy symphony of skin slapping against skin filling the empty bar.

"Y-yes..." you breathe out on a quivering sigh, voice wrecked and dripping with need. “I feel it. stretching me open so perfectly..."

Biting down on your racing pulse, Xavier sucks hard enough to leave vivid bruises behind before gentle fingertips trace reverently over the colorful blooms.

"All mine," he murmurs, voice low and fervent against the shell of your ear. "Every inch belongs to me." 

"Nngh... Xav... please!" tears leak from the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the stretch, the pleasure, the sheer emotion simmering in his gaze.

A wicked grin tugs at his kiss-swollen lips as Xavier feels your nails rake down his back desperately, leaving angry red welts in their wake. Hips slowing their frantic pace, he pauses to grind against your sweet spot dead center.

“Look at you, begging so pretty for me... such a perfect little angel.” Trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline, he nips playfully at your earlobe before whispering, “but you can do so much better than that, can’t you?”

"Please, Xavier..." Shaky thighs tremble and flex around his pistoning hips, nails digging into sweat-slicked shoulders for dear life. "Want you so bad it hurts.”

The needy words dissolve into a strangled moan as harder thrusts punch the very air from your lungs, drawing broken cries and desperate whimpers. 

"Yes! Right there! Don't stop!"

Sobbing in relief as pleasure mounts, you rock your hips desperately to meet his, chasing that explosive peak. Xavier groans long and low when he feels your inner walls flutter and clamp down around him.

"F-fuck… getting so tight already… practically strangling my cock," he grits out, forehead dropping to rest against yours as his hips snap forward again and again. Sweat drips down his brow, tendrils of silver hair clinging to his skin as he struggles to maintain control.

"Gonna... gonna come soon," you pant out, clinging to him tightly. Tensing and shuddering, you grip his biceps for leverage, nails leaving crescents in the firm muscle. 

He responds by grinding down hard, hitting that special spot inside that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. Your legs tighten around his waist, heels digging into his ass as you pull him impossibly deeper

"I know baby, I can feel it," Xavier murmurs, breath hot against your ear.

He captures your lips in a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as he swallows your wanton moans. The world falls away until only his touch, his taste, his scent surrounds you completely. 

Breaking away with a nip to your lower lip, he gazes down at you, ocean blue eyes taking in every hitch of breath, every flutter of lashes, every tremble of lips…

"Wanna feel this pretty pussy squeeze the cum out of me," he rasps, punctuating the demand with a particularly deep thrust that has your toes curling. Sweat beads on his brow, muscles straining with the effort of holding back his impending release.

Reaching between your sweaty bodies, calloused fingers find your clit, rubbing furious circles around the sensitive bud. The dual stimulation proves too much and with a silent scream, your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave. 

Clear fluid spurts from your spasming cunt with each brutal thrust, coating his shaft and dripping obscenely onto the table below. He slides easily through the mess, fucking into you harder, skin slapping against skin wetly.

"Unnngh! Xaviiiieerrrrr!!" You cry his name like a prayer as ecstasy overtakes every cell in your quivering body. Back arching sharply, nails scrabbling for purchase against his sweat-slicked skin.

Warmth pools heavy and low in Xavier’s stomach as your walls ripple and flutter wildly, trying to draw him in deeper. Breathing ragged through the haze of bliss, wonder colors his features as he takes in the debauched picture you make - hair wild, makeup smeared, kiss-bitten lips parted around silent screams...

"I knew it..." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, shuddering as you continue squeezing him like a vice. Teeth graze the thundering pulse point before suckling hard enough to raise vivid marks. "knew you'd take my cock so perfectly, that you were made for it..."

Gripping your hips bruisingly tight, he pounds into you with renewed vigor, chasing his own high.

"C-come for me again. Please…" Xavier groans softly against your ear, hips still pumping furiously. 

He drives into your body like a man possessed, determined to wring out every last drop of ecstasy…

"How--how do you feel s-so good?"  The question tumbles from your kiss-bruised lips on a stuttered moan. overwhelmed with sensations, your pussy clamps down rhythmically around his pistoning length, trying desperately to milk him dry.

"W-want to feel you drench my cock one more time..." he pants, blue eyes dark with unchecked hunger as they bore into yours. 

Lowering his head, Xavier captures a nipple between his teeth, biting down just shy of too hard. The jolt of exquisite agony mixed with pleasure sends sparks shooting straight to your core.

"You've haunted my dreams for so long," he confesses, ducking his head to lap greedily at the salty moisture pooling in your cleavage. "Fantasy come to life..." 

Through the haze of ecstasy, you feel your walls starting to flutter. Another mind-blowing climax is building rapidly, threatening to shatter you entirely.

"No more Xavier... c-can't take anymore…" you babble incoherently, hips jerking to meet his increasingly desperate thrusts.

Just then, your walls begin to convulse, clamping down around him over and over again. You let out a choked sob of utter bliss as your release slams into you full force.

Xavier groans long and low, features twisting with pained pleasure as you spasm along every ridge and vein of his cock. Liquid heat gushes out, soaking his pelvis and thighs, splattering obscenely onto the filthy tabletop again.

"Feel it... feel me throbbing just for you? how you're milking me so perfectly, coaxing out every last drop..." his hips snap erratically, cock starting to pulse and twitch inside your still fluttering walls.

Silver hair falls over his brow, dampened with exertion. Leaning down, he presses his forehead against yours, breath mingling as he struggles to hold back his orgasm mere seconds longer. Lashes flutter, pupils blown wide with desire…

"Why don't you put those beautiful lips to use..." His voice breaks on a strangled moan as he hilts inside you once more. "...and tell me ho-oh god… how much you want it….”

His words barely register through the fog of bliss clouding your mind, the plea sounding muffled and far away. But then, like a match to kindling, something ignites deep in your core. A needy whimper escapes your lips as your battered walls flutter weakly around his throbbing length, as if to answer him themselves. 

In a move that surprises even yourself, you suddenly surge up, capturing Xavier's lips in a searing kiss. Moaning into his mouth, you pour every ounce of desperation and adoration into the liplock. 

After long moments, you break away with a lewd gasp, pupils blown wide and chest heaving.

"I-I want it," you confess breathlessly, a fierce blush staining your cheeks. Voice trembling with vulnerability and raw need. "I want you, all of you, Xavier. Need to feel you fill me up… mark me inside and out as yours…”

At your trembling confession, something in Xavier seems to snap. Burying his face into the crook of your neck with a hoarse groan, hips suddenly surge forward, driving to the hilt. Strong arms wrap around you possessively, crushing you against his chest.

He moans brokenly, hips snapping and snapping as his release finally crashes over him. Hot ropes of cum paint your clenching walls white, flooding your cunt with what feels like an endless stream. Each jerk and throb of his pulsing cock coaxes out little aftershocks from your own spent form, until you're both shuddering and gasping for air in the aftermath…

For several long moments, the only sounds are your mingled panting and the wet squelch of his softening length slipping in and out of your messy hole. Xavier peppers your face and throat with soft kisses and nuzzling touches, as if trying to map every inch of skin he can reach. Eventually, he lifts his head to gaze at you with lazy, affectionate eyes, a tender smile playing about his kiss-swollen lips. 

"That was incredible," he murmurs, thumb coming up to gently caress your flushed cheek.

His eyes roam over your face, drinking in every detail—the pretty blush, the glazed look of satisfaction in your eyes, the way your lips are swollen and reddened from his kisses. 

Hips give a small, experimental roll, stirring the mess of fluids beginning to leak out. You can't help but let out a breathy little moan at the sensation, inner muscles fluttering weakly around his semi-hard cock still nestled snugly inside you…

"That's my girl," Xavier praises softly, enjoying the needy little sound spilling from your lips. 

Leaning down, he captures them in a surprisingly tender kiss, given the intensity of what just transpired. 

Gentle fingers thread through silvery strands, combing the disheveled locks back from his face. With tender care, you trace the elegant lines of his features, committing every plane and angle to memory. The way his sky-blue eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles down at you, the high curve of his cheekbones, the stubborn set of his jaw—every part of him is simply breathtaking.

"Mmmm..." you hum contentedly, nuzzling into the side of his neck. "I've never felt anything like that before..." 

A lazy grin spreads across your face as you survey the deserted bar, remnants of your heated tryst littering the floor around you—scattered clothing, sticky puddles of various fluids. 

"Mmm, I guess we should probably think about heading home," you suggest with a playful smirk, rolling your hips just a little and letting out a soft moan as you clench weaklyaround him. 

After catching his breath and calming his racing heart, Xavier slowly pulls out of you with a hiss, slipping free in a gush of combined fluids. Still trembling slightly, you can't help but let out a soft whine at the sudden emptiness, walls fluttering around nothing.

He sits back just a little, admiring the sight of you sprawled beneath him, thighs spread shamelessly to show off your swollen, messy sex. With a satisfied smirk, he reaches out to scoop some of the pearly essence leaking from your stretched hole, bringing the coated fingers to his lips to taste.

"So sweet…" he murmurs appreciatively before leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, filthy kiss. Sharing the taste of your mixed essences, he licks into your mouth languidly.

Breaking away with a wet pop, he grins boyishly down at your dazed expression, a mischievous glint in those cerulean eyes. 

"Well, as fate would have it... looks like I'm giving you a ride home tonight."

You level a pointed glance up at Xavier, trying to muster an appropriately chastising expression. But the effect is somewhat ruined by the dreamy half-lidded eyes and satisfied little smile playing about your lips. 

"Oh? And what makes you think I'm going anywhere anytime soon?" you murmur playfully, reaching out to trail a finger down his sweat-slicked chest. At the last second, you dart forward, nipping sharply at his bottom lip before pulling back with a smirk. 

"Since you couldn't wait to jump my bones as soon as you got me alone, I think the gentlemanly thing to do would be to help me clean up your mess first. Don't you agree?"