Chapter 9 Action #2
"Thank you." The word comes out breathlessly as his consuming stare wraps me up in warmth and tingles.
I swallow and look towards the unlocked studio door.
"You can't be here at the moment, Max. My brother is home for the weekend and you're not his favourite person.
" Max's narrow grey eyes start to strip me of sanity.
He drops the paper before closing the space between us.
Stepping backwards, the barre presses against my lower back and I gasp. "You should probably go."
His fingertips meet my hand before brushing up the full length of my arm and enveloping the arch of my neck. "I should probably go... say hi."
"You're a menace," I whisper as he tilts my chin up with his thumb.
His face is suddenly filled with amusement. "A menace?"
I giggle shakily. "Yeah."
He suddenly lifts me onto the barre and wraps my legs around his waist. Feeding his hand through my hair, he kisses me passionately.
He presses his pelvis between my thighs and rubs against the thin fabric of my leotard.
I moan and tighten my legs around him. His tongue enters my mouth.
His hands begin to move around my body, stroking me with a tender, yet demanding level of pressure.
I slide my fingers under his shirt, break our kiss to help him tug it over his head, and then desperately find his lips again.
His cheeks have that perfect level of roughness.
His mouth and tongue are all over my chin.
My neck. My ear. The warmth of his heavy breathing caresses my skin.
Wrapping his fingers around the straps of my leotard, he begins to peel it down my body. My breasts bounce free, squishing against his toned abdomen.
"Max," I beg as his lips leave mine and circle my chin and neck again. "Max, we can't. The door."
He groans. Pushing himself away from me, he walks over to the door and locks it tight.
I glance at myself in the mirror. I'm sitting on the barre, shoulders rising and falling with each big breath.
My leotard is bunched below my navel. My nipples are pointed, and I actually look as sexy as Max is making me feel.
My eyes dart back to him. He's stalking toward me, his torso wrapped in taut, flexing muscles. The inked design under his skin ripples as he moves. His face is completely emotionless.
He pulls a foil packet from his back pocket.
Stopping inches in front of me, he unbuttons his jeans, slowly pulls them off, and stands with his thick, toned thighs between my knees.
I grip the barre until my knuckles feel tingly.
He reaches into his boxers and pulls his erection out, fisting the root and giving himself long, slow strokes to the tip and back.
Precum forms as a glistening bead on its head.
Peeling my fingers off the barre, he moulds my hand around his penis. It's so thick, my fingers are unable to circle it fully. While he holds my gaze, he begins to show me how to stroke him.
I peer down at his long, heavy penis, which looks even bigger in my tiny hand. I'm overawed by how rock-hard his erection is, how I can squeeze him with all my strength and yet, that doesn't stop him from throbbing against me.
As Max pants beside my forehead, his lips brush against me, breath fanning my arousal. He squeezes the barre on either side of my thighs; the dramatic music of Tchaikovsky flowing through the speakers intensifies the moment.
Taking him in both hands, I lick my lips, wondering what he tastes like.
As I massage his penis up and down, his hands move between my legs.
He circles the buttons at the crotch of my leotard with his fingers for a while, slowly, as if he's unsure about what he's touching.
But then it clicks and he's snapping them open in quick succession.
And he's pulling it off, leaving me with only my pink legwarmers on.
A soft kiss meets my earlobe. Another graces my jawline. His lips take mine again when he grabs my hands and pulls them off his erection.
I hear the foil from the condom wrapper crinkling, and then he's positioning me on top of his erection.
Using the tip of his penis, he stimulates my clit.
Arching on a spasm, my legs tighten around his waist. My arms begin to tremble around his neck.
Our kisses now mingle with whimpers and deep, longing groans.
"Don't worry, Little One. I'll try to go slow."
A tear escapes my eye, but I'm not sad. "Please, Max."
"Tell me you want this." He's almost growling. "I need to hear you say it."
"I want this."
With one hand cupping my bum, he lifts me slightly.
His fingers are between my cheeks, pressing on the hole between them.
The other hand grasps his cock and feeds his erection into me.
Slowly. Inch by inch until he stops on a groan.
His shoulders are taut from his restraint.
The pace is perfect for me, but I imagine he wants to thrust. But he isn't.
I'm feeling a lot of tightness, a lot of stretching. And I'm so full. So utterly taken.
"Fuck." I barely hear the word, but I feel it against my lips. "Relax, Cassidy."
He uses his hand to push his erection further in, but he's not fitting—it hurts. I begin to wriggle my hips and mewl. He curses again and thrusts harder. And then I feel a sting like an elastic band being flicked inside me. And now he's sliding in deep and I'm crying out in pain and pleasure.
"Relax," he groans as he kisses my face, his penis pumping inside me.
Heat from his skin radiates against mine. There's an intense, mind-blowing sensation when his whole erection stretches me open. Our breathing becomes laboured. Our lips are everywhere.
As he begins to speed up, I hug his neck and look over his shoulder at his reflection.
I watch as his muscular, tattooed back tightens and his perfect backside thrusts into me, clenching and releasing with each buck of his hips.
My legs and body shake from the force of him.
It's voyeuristic. Erotic. My ears start to burn.
The muscles inside me, circling his penis, begin to squeeze together and pulse.
And it seems to affect Max because he's groaning louder beside my ear.
He lifts me to straddle his waist, supporting my weight with ease and bounces me on top of him.
He's not slow anymore.
But he's not rough.
My stomach tenses up. My toes curl. And Max is so fricking strong. He moulds my body wherever he wants it and even though I want to crawl away, the sensation coming on too fast, too intense, he's taking me, handling me.
My legs begin to shake as heat shoots up my thighs and down my abdomen, crashing together in a powerful orgasm. I cry out, but Max swallows my sounds.
My body feels weak, muscles fatigued and trembling.
He continues to bounce me on top of him until I feel him grow even bigger inside me.
He's growling next to my ear now and thrusting up once more.
Holding me close, he pulsates on a wave of pleasure.
His groan is deep and sexy—my new favourite sound.
He buries his head in the arch of my neck, exhausted. As he nuzzles me, I brush my fingers through his thick, dark-brown hair. The sweetness of this moment makes my heart skip.
When he finally lowers me down, his penis slips from inside me, wet and amazingly beautiful. But at the sight of the blood on the condom, my chest tightens. Glancing between my legs, I spot my blood-mixed arousal sliding down my thighs like a pink snake.
Max grabs my chin and lifts my wide eyes to meet his soft, supportive ones. "It's normal. I'm a big guy."
I breathe out fast and with urgency, not even realising I was holding my breath. He pulls the condom off and ties the end before walking over to the waste bin and disposing of it.
I detail his body from a distance. At the sight of the smug grin plastered all across his face, my cheeks flush. "Stop it, Max."
Staring at me in the mirror, he tucks his penis into his boxers. "I was watching your sexy little arse bounce on my cock in the mirror."
I cover my face, which is ridiculous because I'm naked from the knee up. "Oh my gawd."
"Big tick for the choice of venue." He laughs and I look up from my hands to see that relaxed smile again. Max appears lighter for a moment.
He moves towards me and scoops me into his arms, cradling me as he walks into the bathroom. We smile at each other. He places me on top of the vanity and helps me clean myself up. I'm not at all uncomfortable—he's incredibly attentive.
I throw on a yellow tee-shirt and a pair of denim short shorts.
When I'm completely dressed, he says, "I gotta go, Little One."
My heart sinks.
My mouth gapes as I watch him pull his jeans and shirt on. He can’t seriously be leaving. Not straight after that. Not straight after taking my virginity.
He turns to leave, so I rush after him and grab his wrist. "Don't go."
He stops. When he faces my direction again, I take a step back. A long sigh escapes him as he studies me with a tight expression—seeing every desperate and pathetic inch of me.
"I got shit to do," he says as his finger strokes down the shaft of my nose before tapping the tip playfully. "I'll see ya soon."
"One hour. Hang out with me for an hour?"
Oh my God. Stop it, Cassidy!
"This is just this. Sex. I fucking told you that."
His words cut into me, but they bring anger rather than pain. "What? So we can’t be friends?"
After a quick glance at the door, his head dips back in defeat. "Fine."
His fingers feed through mine and he pulls me outside onto the porch in a form of defiance, knowing full well that Konnor is around somewhere.
He releases my hand and when I try to protest, he slumps down onto the daybed and positions himself against the backboard.
He smirks at me while patting the cushion between his outstretched legs. "Sit."
I scowl at him. "You're a menace."
"So I've heard."