Xavier's pov.
Later that evening, Honey sits on the breakfast bar when I enter the kitchen, my hair damp from the shower. She sips her wine, another glass waiting for me by the bottle.
“We’re going out,” I say, making room for myself between her legs.
“Dinner. What do you feel like? Italian, Greek, Spanish?” She hooks her index finger in the collar of my t-shirt, tugging until I get the hint and kiss her.
“Don’t do that.” I bite her lip when she sighs softly.
“I know you love it when I kiss you, but you need to keep those sweet little sounds in for me.” She peers up, her eyes glossy, velvet with desire.
“Why?” “I don’t have nearly enough restraint when you sigh and moan in my mouth.”
Her lips form a small o, and she sighs again, making my d**k twitch. “I’m not hungry, Xavier.” S
