Chapter Eighteen
Daisy, Now
Coming. I can’t believe that’s what I told Max I like in bed. Orgasms haven’t happened for me with every partner, every time, but I should hit the brakes on the horny-girl truth bombs if I want to look anything less than desperate.
“Any particular speed?” he asks while inspecting the bright pink toy in his hand.
“Lightest setting. To start, at least. She’s a powerful one.”
“She?”
“Obviously.” I flash him a winning smile. “Pretty and gets the job done.”
“Makes sense.” He barks a laugh, and it disturbs the butterflies swarming in my stomach. “Well, now it’s time for you to let someone else get the job done. Can you do that for me?”
I nod, my tongue too heavy in my mouth to speak.
The thrill humming through me is more than physical desire—it’s the years I wasted ignoring how I felt, the devastation of realizing my feelings too late.
That anticipation sparks through my body as Max has one hand on the vibrator while the other rests on my shin.
My back arches as he trails his fingertips up my thighs, lighting the fire.
I would crawl on my knees down every jagged backroad in Harlow just to know how he feels inside me.
He undoes the fly of my jeans and slides the thick denim down my hips and off my legs. Max grabs a handful of my thigh, then my ass, and I squeal with the heady rush of familiarity. He fingers the edge of my underwear, tracing the lacy edges—and thank god I wore something semi-cute today.
“Your body’s incredible.”
“Thank y—” His warm mouth sucking on my nipple traps the words in my throat. He uses teeth and tongue, teeth and tongue in a rhythm that takes over my senses, like he’s conducting every beat of my heart. Seeking release, I shift my hips to ride his thigh.
He captures my other breast, and I rub against him again. His lips work my body in a way that’s inquisitive yet self-assured. He kisses a line to my waist, and he pauses.
“You still have it.” He presses a finger against my rib cage.
Max inked that miniscule flower on my side junior year. What better way to put his artistic skills to use than on a tattoo I wasn’t legally allowed to get yet? I sometimes forget about it because of the position, but it’s my favorite.
I admire the California poppy on my skin. “Surprised you noticed.”
“I notice everything about you.”
He grinds his thigh against my center, sending a current through me.
Then, with an electric bzz, our focus goes back to the pink vibrator in his hand.
He brushes the toy over one nipple, and my body tenses with pleasure.
Max wields it like a magic wand, and the buzzing coasts down and down until the silicone skates over my underwear.
The touch is delicate but enough to make my skin prickle with need.
“You’re still wearing too much. This.” Max hooks a finger around my panties and gives a gentle tug. “Off. Now.”
After I work the piece of fabric down my legs, Max hisses with a sharp inhale. His attentive gaze makes me squirm. As much as I want to embody a carefree sex goddess, my jittery nerves tell a different story. I don’t just want to sleep with him—I want it to be good. I want him to think it’s good.
“What, um, what do you want to do to me?” I embrace my inner sex kitten as best I can, dipping my toe into dirty talk. I worry he’ll think I’m pathetic, but he looks at me with dark, dilated pupils.
“Everything.” He runs his tongue along the length of the vibrator. “But I’ll start with this.”
He traces a path with the toy up one thigh and down the other, gliding over my labia so it teases me.
Once more, he goes through the motions, narrowly missing my clit and sending a rough groan of frustration through me.
Max pulls the sex toy away and chuckles from where he’s kneeling, right between my legs.
“You were never very patient.”
“Fuck you,” I say through a smile.
“I will.” He presses hungry kisses from one knee up past my hip until he’s hovering over me. When he takes my nipple back in his mouth, I buck into the air—and finally, finally, he rests the vibrator where I want it.
“Shit.” I’ve shut my eyes, but I’m seeing stars. Max holds the tip close, but not close enough, so I instinctively jut my hips forward for more connection. He scrapes his teeth against my skin, and I yelp in pleasure and pain.
At that, he pins me with a stare and presses the vibrator flush against my wet, hot need—not inside me, not yet—but it’s enough to make me whimper with want.
“Did you use this and think of me?”
“Mhmm.” If only he knew how many times I’d silently screamed into my pillow this week, thinking of him while getting myself off.
His gaze crackles, as if he has a glitch in his system. “And what did you imagine?”
“This,” I gasp between waves of the vibrator.
“Just this? Or more?”
I moan against the pulses, unable to form full thoughts, much less sentences.
“Tell me, Daze. If it’s just tonight, I wanna know. You told me you wouldn’t hold back, so say it. What were you thinking about?”
“All of you.” A nervous laugh bubbles out of me. “You touching me everywhere. What could have happened in your room. How much I want you inside of me.”
The confession hangs between us, and I worry I’ve been too honest with him. He exhales and shifts back between my thighs.
“For now,” he says, “this’ll have to do.”
When he bends down, the first touch of his mouth to my clit is ecstasy. Then he swipes his tongue, broad and firm, against me, and bursts of warmth compound low in my body. Max doesn’t just know what’s doing with a vibrator—he knows damn well what he’s doing, period.
“You taste so good,” he murmurs against me, his hot breath forcing me to shudder.
I’m about ready to beg when I feel the hum of the device poised at my entrance. The sex toy goes inside me, first a little, then more, then a lot—pressure building in me in the most satisfying way. With Max sucking hard on my clit, I throw my head back in response.
“My god,” I hiss. “That’s so good.”
He keeps a steady rhythm going, lapping me up and up and up, and the vibrator sends subtle shock waves through me.
The intensity builds until I’m dizzy, poised at a tipping point, and ready to surrender.
My orgasm crashes into us both, sending me bucking wildly against him while he holds on for dear life.
My vision blurs, and I cry out a string of curse words as Max hums against my most sensitive parts.
I ride the aftershocks, and once I’ve come down from the high, I open my eyes. My room. My bed. My Max. He’s sitting back on his heels—his mouth and chin glistening, his pupils wide and wanting.
“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He’s looking at me like I’m a feast and he’s a starved man, and although I just came on his face, hard, I’m aching for more of him. All of him.
“I need you,” I whisper without realizing. “I need you so fucking bad.”
My chest aches, because what if what comes next isn’t enough? It has to be, though. We’re not doing a full-blown relationship with all its complications. We’re friends. Friends who have sex, but only for one night.
The glint in Max’s eye makes me stupid again, and all I can think of is getting closer to him. If this really is only for tonight, no holding back—then I need all of him.
Ravenous, I tear the jeans off his legs and tug at the waistband of his boxer briefs. He’s got a gorgeous, taut stomach and a dapple of dark brown hair below his belly button. He slips his underwear off, and his dick bounces, hard and thick and Oh my god. The things I want to do to him.
Still lying on the bed, I wrap my hand around his length, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. Has he been hiding this in his pants the entire time I’ve known him? In high school, I caught a glimpse of him when we stripped down and sneaked into his neighbor’s pool—but I don’t remember this.
He settles onto all fours over me, giving me easier access to stroke him and feel his hard-on as he grows with every touch.
“Good girl,” he rasps out as his breath hitches. “God, you give me exactly what I want.” The praise courses through me, and I’m salivating and desperate.
“I’ll give you anything.”
“Shit, Daisy.” He holds my wrist so I can’t move. “Give me too much, and I won’t get to do what I really want to do.”
“And what’s that?” I ask coyly, a grin playing at the side of my mouth.
“The same thing you want.” Max lowers his lips against my ear, and barely audible, he says, “To fuck you ’til you scream my name.”
Impatient, I reach for a condom from my nightstand. I’m on birth control, but I always use a second form of protection for one-night stands. I suppose this qualifies, even if it is with Max.
He rolls the condom onto his dick, not letting his eyes leave mine. He hovers over me, his tip nudging my entrance. “I want you to look at me,” he says—no, demands—and his tone causes my pulse to jump. “You look at me while I fill you up.”
He pushes into me, inch by agonizing inch, and I whimper because it’s not just his cock stretching me. I feel something bigger and brighter, something that almost makes me want to cry.
“Yeah? Is that what you wanted?” he asks against my lips.
“Yes. And more.”
He backs out and slides into me, faster this time.
“Oh god. That. Again.”
“How hard do you need me, Daisy?”
I bite back a moan at the sound of my name on his tongue. “Hard.”
He grips my ass with one hand, thrusting into me again and sending raw, almost punishing pleasure up my spine.
“S’gonna take a lot more than that to make me scream.”
“Never guessed you would like it so rough.”
“Normally I don’t.” I lock eyes with him for another agonizing thrust, willing him to understand that I’m not simply saying what he wants to hear. “Guess it’s something just for you.”
He slows his pace and takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, gentle yet commanding. “Tell me if it’s too much, Daze.”
“I want ‘too much.’”