Infinite Rebate System: Beautiful Women And Endless Returns

Sarah’s fingers curled against the nape of Xavier’s neck, nails pressing just enough to make his breath go shallow.

The kiss deepened. Not rushed, not tentative, but something third. A knowing. Her mouth opened against his and the taste of spearmint gave way to something salt-bright, something earned across the three hours she’d spent on her bed replaying the rough mix and the corner kiss and everything that had cracked open in the community centre.

His hands moved first.

Under the hem of the oversized T-shirt. Her old tour shirt maybe from three summers ago, the one she’d always wear indoors . The cotton had gone thin at the seams. His palms found the warm curve of her ribs, thumbs sweeping upward until they grazed the underside of her breasts. No bra. The realization landed somewhere low in his stomach.

"Sarah."

She pulled back only enough to look at him. Streetlight from the window caught the damp on her lower lip.

"I’ve thought about this," she said. Her voice wasn’t breathy. It was certain. "All night.Everything that led to this moment. I’ve thought about exactly what I wanted to happen."

Xavier’s jaw tightened. "And what did you want?"

"You. Here." Her hand slid from his neck to the center of his chest. "Without anyone else’s grief in the room."

The corkboard creaked when his shoulder bumped it. A small sound, domestic, grounding. Somewhere behind her, the rough mix cycled into its third iteration, the drum track bleeding through the phone speaker like a heartbeat under water. She was already pulling him toward the hallway by the belt loop of his jeans.

"Bedroom?"

She nodded once and turned, leading him past the kitchen where a single mug sat in the drying rack, past the bathroom with its cracked door and lavender hand soap. Her feet were bare. The floorboards remembered every step.

The bedroom door stood open. King-sized bed. Unmade. White sheets tangled near the footboard like she’d been wrestling with them earlier. A lamp on the nightstand threw amber light across one pillow and left the rest of the room in shadow.

Xavier didn’t wait for an invitation.

He lifted her. Hands under her thighs, her legs wrapping his waist and walked her to the bed. When he dropped her onto the mattress, the springs complained and she bounced once, laughing through her nose before the laughter died in her throat because he was already pulling his shirt over his head.

Then she sat up, swung her legs over the edge of the mattress, and reached for his belt.

The leather slid through the buckle with a hiss. Button. Zipper. Her knuckles brushed the hard line of him through his boxer briefs and Xavier’s hand caught the back of her head. Not pushing, just holding, fingers threading into the mess of her hair.

"You sure?"

Sarah looked up at him. The amber light made a crescent along her cheekbone. She didn’t answer with words. She pulled the waistband down and took him into her mouth.

Slow at first. A testing. The salt-skin taste of him, the weight against her tongue, the way his grip in her hair tightened involuntarily when she hollowed her cheeks. She’d done this before years ago, another life, a version of herself that had been too focused on her own pleasure to notice what he needed. The memory surfaced and dissolved just as fast.

This was different.

Her free hand braced against his thigh, feeling the muscle jump beneath her palm. She pulled back, let her tongue drag along the underside, then sank down again until she felt him hit the back of her throat. A sound escaped him low, guttural, half-her-name.

She did it again.

"Sarah." His voice had gone rough at the edges. "I’m going to..."

She didn’t stop. Didn’t pull away.

The salt-bitter rush filled her mouth and she swallowed, once, twice, her throat working around him while his body shuddered through it. Only when his grip in her hair loosened did she let him slip free, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her wrist.

The rough mix had ended. The room was silent except for their breathing.

Xavier knelt.

His hands pushed her thighs apart and the oversized T-shirt still on her, rucked up to her hips. Bunched at her waist. No underwear. The realization hit him the same moment his mouth found her, and the sound she made was something between a gasp and a curse.

She was already slick. The taste of her spread across his tongue, familiar and foreign all at once. His thumbs opened her folds and he licked a slow stripe from her entrance to her clit, feeling her hips rise to meet him.

"Oh, fuck."

He circled the bud with the tip of his tongue. Light, then firmer, then light again, reading her body’s responses like sheet music. When her thighs started to tremble, he slid one finger inside her.

Wet heat. Tight.

She gripped the sheets. Her back arched off the mattress and he added a second finger, curling them upward, searching for the spot that would make her unravel. His tongue kept its rhythm, a counterpoint to the thrust of his fingers.

Her world had narrowed to this: the amber lamplight bleeding through her closed eyelids, the wet sounds of his mouth working her, the pressure building at the base of her spine. Not the polite, contained pleasure she used to chase. The kind she’d orchestrate and control and end the moment she’d gotten hers.

This was unspooling.

She obviously can’t remember how she used to be. How she’d treat his body like a station on the way to her own finish line. How she’d roll off afterward without asking what he’d wanted.

The memory stung Xavier sharper than he’d expected.

"Xavier." His name came out broken. "I’m close."

He didn’t speed up. Didn’t change what he was doing. Just kept that unrelenting pressure, that perfect circle of his tongue, those fingers stroking her from the inside until...

Arghhh! Fuck!!

Her orgasm hit like a held breath finally released. She cried out, one hand flying to his head, pressing him against her as her hips bucked and the aftershocks rippled through her thighs and stomach and somewhere behind her ribs. He stayed with her through all of it, mouth gentling, fingers slowing, letting her ride the last tremors against his face.

When she finally opened her eyes, he was looking up at her from between her legs. His lips glistened. His eyes were dark.

"Come here," she managed.

He crawled up her body, settling his weight between her thighs, and she felt him rock hard again, already pressing his cock against her entrance. The oversized T-shirt was still on her, twisted and damp with sweat. Neither of them moved to remove it.

Sarah reached between their bodies and guided him inside.

The stretch made her gasp. He filled her inch by inch, giving her time to adjust, watching her face with an intensity that felt almost unbearable. When he was fully seated, he dropped his forehead to hers.

"Okay?.."

She nodded, throat too tight for words.

He started to move.