Chapter Twenty-Four
October 11th, 8:05 p.m.
“ S how me exactly what you can do,” she breathed against his lips.
He leaned back, taking her in and grinning. And sweet mercy, his smile. Her knees nearly buckled as his mouth found her neck, his hands the only thing keeping her steady. Then he was on his knees before her, and holy hell—the first sweep of his tongue had her clinging to his shoulders, fighting to stay upright. Each stroke, each touch of his fingers had her climbing higher, his name falling from her lips. The tension coiled tighter and tighter until she shattered, but he didn’t stop. He guided her to the couch, and damn if he didn’t prove himself again and again until she could barely remember her name.
But those sounds he made—deep, primal groans that vibrated through her body as he tasted her. The way his shoulders bunched with restraint beneath her fingers. It was too much, yet she needed more. Needed to taste him, to feel him come undone against her tongue the way she had against his.
She nudged him to his feet, her body still tingling from his touch. The condo’s living room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, reflecting the raw hung er in his eyes. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of desire through her.
She knelt before him, her hair tickling his thighs, her breath warm against his skin. “Paloma,” he begged, his voice thick as tar and just as dark.
“What, Max?” she asked before wrapping her hand around his erection and taking him into her mouth.
Words seemed to fail him. His hands raked along her scalp, roughly and oh-so-perfect. The noises he made—his groans, his demands, his murmurs of how good she was, how fucking fantastic he made her feel had her arousal dripping down her thighs.
Without warning, he stepped back. She tried to go with him, but he ground out, “No,” tugging lightly on her hair.
She looked up, pushing out her bottom lip. “But I want more.”
He gripped her chin. “And I’ll give you more. Which is why we have to stop.” The hold on her tightened slightly, and he pressed up. “Come here.”
Once again, she followed his orders. No surprise. She'd do whatever he said if he kept making her feel this good.
He brought her in for another soul-searing kiss, walking her backward. When her legs hit the back of that odd-shaped couch, he turned them around and sat. She straddled his lap. Returning to his mouth to hers, he grabbed her ass and pulled her closer. The length of his erection lined up to her front, pressing into her clit as she rocked against him.
If they kept this up, she’d come. Again. He moved his lips from her mouth to her neck and mumbled into her ear. “What do you want me to do? What will make this feel better?”
“Tighter. More,” she gasped, trying to explain, but unable to form the right words. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she knew what she needed.
He pressed her impossibly closer, digging his calloused fingers into her ass. The slight shift had her climax, pooling, low and tight. Then he moved his hold to her hips, gripped them tight, and rocked her along his length in a way that made her head fall back and her eyes roll shut.
He trailed his lips down her neck to her breasts, and her breath caught. Not only from the physical sensation but from the tender way his fingers intertwined with hers. In that moment, she felt seen in a way she hadn’t in years—maybe ever.
“Max, please.” She begged. “Don’t stop.”
“Take what you need,” he said, returning to her lips.
His demanding kiss pushed her over the edge. Her pleasure owned her; her orgasm spread through her body. But even in its strength, she wanted more of him. “I need you,” she gasped.
“You have me. All of me.”
She understood he meant his body, but she pretended he truly meant all of him. Then she pushed that sappy fantasy aside for another day and said, “I want you inside me.”
He lifted her off his lap. She instantly missed his warmth. “W-what? Why?” she sputtered.
“Just a second, sweetheart.” He kissed her temple. “Let me get a condom.”
He shifted off the couch and grabbed the leg of his jeans, pulling them closer and taking a square package from the pocket. Once he had it, he turned to her and wrapped a big hand around her ankle. He kissed his way up her until reaching the apex of her thighs. He looked at her from between her legs. Pure sin danced in his eyes. He licked along her heat, then sucked on her already overly sensitized clit.
She arched up and away, gripping his shoulders. “I c-can’t take it. Give me a minute,” she begged.
He kissed her belly, chuckling. “I thought you said you were greedy. A glutton. I need to make sure that you get your fill of pleasure.”
The rippi ng of a foil packet whispered between them, and her satiated body was suddenly starving for him. His shoulder and muscles bunched and moved beautifully as he rolled on the condom.
She shifted to lay on her back, and he crawled up her body, settling between her thighs. Given the odd shape of the couch, they didn’t quite fit. They should move, but she didn’t want to stop and get off this ride. And he made it work, sliding slowly inside her, giving her time.
“Is this okay? Does it feel okay?” he asked.
“Yes, to both. More than okay. Closer to nirvana than okay,” she replied.
“I agree.” he said against her neck, but then echoed her thoughts from a second ago, “But this fucking couch is terrible.”
He pulled her up and sat like they had before, except this time he was inside of her instead of gliding along her. The sensation was intense, all-consuming. He trailed his hands down her thigh, across her stomach, chest, and shoulders as if he was mapping her, finding his way.
His hands reached her hips and gripped her gently, pulling her up and sliding her down at an excruciatingly wonderful pace. The tempo was perfect, exactly what she needed to recover from her two climaxes.
“I haven’t felt this way in a long time,” he murmured.
Her heart dipped. “What way?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Like I don’t want to let go.”
He’d change his mind. They did eventually. But she wouldn’t worry about that or how much she already liked him. Right now was for pleasure.
She kissed him slowly and thoroughly, his arms moving her at the same pace. She traced her hands up his torso, fascinated with the way his beautiful body flexed and moved. Recalling his pleasure point from earlier, she leaned over, flicking the tip of her tongue over his nipple.
His grip on her tightened, and his pace was much less gentle. He ground out, “Palamore.”
She giggled and straightened to look at him. “Who’s this Palamore?”
His eyes were hazy with lust, but his grin was adorable. “Paloma, more. Is that better?”
“No. I like my new name better. I love that I’m causing you to lose the ability to speak?”
“Forget talking. You feel so fucking good, I’m losing my damn mind.” His hand slid lower, pressing into her clit, circling.
She sucked in a sharp, bliss-filled breath. Their eyes locked, and in his gaze, she swore there was more than hunger. Unwilling to look too closely, fearing it might be a lie, she circled her hips. With a gentle push, she tilted his chin upward, planting a kiss on his Adam’s apple before kissing her way down his chest.
“Fuck,” he muttered, all guttural groans and gravel.
The press and sweat between their bodies was the exact friction she needed. And her third orgasm began to build. “Close so close,” she said against his ear.
“What do you need to be there?” he asked.
“Kiss me. Let me ride you.”
He did as she demanded. His hands moved to her ass, his fingers pressing into her heated skin but not holding tight. He let her move as she needed. Her pants became sharper and higher as her growing pleasure twisted tight around her and then exploded on a shout of his name.
Her bliss nearly broke her as her ecstasy crescendoed. Slow as honey drizzled on sun-warmed skin, it receded to a languid satisfaction.
He stood, not breaking their connection, and carried a boneless body. Wrapping her legs and arms around him was a struggle. “I got you,” he said, walking through the living room, down the hall, and to the bedroom.
Holding h er tight, he moved them to the center of the bed. She was on her back, and he rested on his elbows on the sides of her head. He didn’t move his hips. “Watching you come is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he told her between gentle kisses.
He was still in her and hard as granite. His heart thrummed, fast and strong, against her chest. The vein in his neck was pounding, showing how he ached for release. Yet he didn’t rush as if he could keep satisfying her over and over all night long.
“And what about you?” she asked. “When will I see this with you?”
He brushed his mouth across her lips. “We’ll get there. I’m enjoying myself plenty.”
No doubt. She was too, but she intended to see him break apart, to lose control. She wanted him to be as addicted to her as she was becoming to him.
Bucking her hips, he let out a surprised grunt and fell to his side. She pressed on his shoulders, pushing him flat on his back, and climbed on top of him. She rose to nearly the crown of his erection, then lowered herself slowly. Once there was no space between them, she circled her hips—that last bit was for her, and a moan escaped between her lips.
His hands skated up her sides to her chest. His gaze flipped from her eyes to breasts to where they were connected as if he was trying to drink every last drop of her.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
She took him fast and hard instead of going slow. His eyes flared hot as he grabbed her waist. His roughness thrilled her. Again and again, she took him until his grip tightened enough to leave bruises. She reveled in his firm hold and the way he was losing control.
“Come here,” he commanded, gripping the back of her head and bringing her to him. He kissed her with a desperation that told her he was close.
It was he r turn to ask, “What do you need?
“You,” he said into her mouth.
He held her waist and slammed into her with enough force that she gripped the headboard. She bared down on him; the friction and his brutal thrusts had another orgasm building.
She’d have been shocked, but her body was too busy shaking, and her brain was wiped of everything all but base need. “Shit. Fuck. I think I’m gonna come again,” she gasped.
Their lips met as she rode him hard, and he matched her intensity, slamming them together. Her climax crashed through her, stealing her breath and any chance of shouting his name.
Sweaty and sated, her muscles went slack and pliant. Flipping them over, he pounded into her relentlessly, his movements erratic and his gaze locked on hers. Urging him on with her hips, she wrapped her arms tightly around him, short fingernails digging into his back.
Then he broke. His body went rigid as his mouth, resting on her neck, pressed into her with startling force. She felt the outline of his teeth against her skin as a final, resonant groan shuddered through him.
The full wonderful weight of his body landed on hers for a quick moment before he rolled onto his side. After some time, he kissed her temple and said, “Be right back.”
They’d left a light on somewhere in the house, and she admired the view of him walking to the ensuite bathroom. He was probably disposing of the condom, but she missed him.
That was an alarming thought, but one to worry about tomorrow. No, even better, she’ll worry about it when they leave Traverse City.
He returned to the bed, and she nestled against his chest. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she savored the afterglow. A delicious languor spread through her limbs. Part of it was the multiple orgasms, which was rare enough, but that wasn’t all of it. There was something more, an ineffable connection that thrilled and terrified her. She longed to believe it was mutual, yet a nagging doubt whispered that it might be just her imagination, a projection of her desires.
Needing to lighten her dangerous thoughts, she joked, “Damn, Max if I would’ve known it’d be this great between us I would’ve let you keep going at the pineapple house. Hell, I’d let the Thompsons take pictures, invite friends over. I. Would. Not. Have. Cared.”
His deep belly laugh filled the room. She absolutely loved the sound. It was better than her favorite song.
“Does that mean I’ve slackened that greedy appetite of yours?” He kissed her neck. “Or do we need to go for around two?”
“Seriously?” She sat up and stared at him, trying to gauge if he was joking. “You could go for another round?”
“Maybe not right this second,” he admitted. “But if you get back on top of me. Start moving that ass again, I’m sure I can get ready in no time.”
“Damn, I need a break. I don’t want you to break me.”
His brows pulled tight. “Was I too rough?”
She ran her thumb over the crease. “No. You were exactly what I needed.”
“Past tense?” He rested a hand on her hip.
“I definitely want more in my future,” she replied.
“For the next two weeks while we’re here?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He began drawing circles on her hip with his fingertips. “And after?”
Her heart leaped at the possibility, but her fears screamed to be cautious. It was safer to postpone his question. She needed more time to see if she could trust him with more than her body. “Remember, we’ll worry about that after we return home.”
His lips flattened for a beat before his smile returned. He kissed her once, light and quick, sitting up and bringing her with him.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To the shower. I’m gonna clean you up and massage any parts that might be sore.”
She let him carry her to the ensuite bathroom. He sat her on the counter, then turned on the shower. She started to scoot off, planning to get under the spray, but he shook his head and picked her back up.
Under the hot spray, he shampooed and conditioned her hair, giving her one of the best scalp and neck massages of her life. Then he grabbed the soap, lathered it up, and washed her. She shouldn’t let him take care of her. It did things to her heart that she didn’t want to happen.
She wouldn’t let him in, but she could let him take care of her, at least for tonight. Tomorrow, she’d remember to pull back into that safe zone where emotions don’t rule her.