Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Max gasped and sat up. He was in his bed, sheets tangled all around him. His body was bathed in cold sweat. Moonlight shone into his bedroom, painting the space with pale blue and gray.
His mind grasped for clarity. What had just happened? Where had he been?
Oh—he’d been dreaming of Lana. Of their second night together ten years ago at her parents’ house.
And he had a giant hard-on, his cock so swollen it was painful.
“Fuck me,” he muttered to himself. “I’m a masochist now, apparently.
” Because all of this was just an agonizing reminder of Lana’s rejection of him.
Not once, but two nights in a row. First, when he came out and told her that he wanted her in his life.
He’d never said that to a woman. Ever. And he’d crashed and burned.
Pretty much the same thing had happened tonight.
He’d put himself out there; she’d walked away.
Ouch.
Of course, he couldn’t blame her for not trusting him. In her shoes, he wouldn’t have trusted him, either.
But he’d faced obstacles before. He wouldn’t have been able to build this business or any significant wealth if he gave up so easy. He wanted Lana, and he knew that she was worth all the time and work it would take to win her.
He was going to be patient. But he wasn’t going to hide his desire for her, not anymore.
He wanted to make sure that she had no doubt where he stood, at least about the fact that he found her irresistible.
Maybe he couldn’t say yet where this would go in the future, but he definitely wanted something real. And exclusive.
He’d also resolved to focus more on her needs.
That was where the self-defense lesson came in.
Lana was afraid, and he wanted to give her the skills she needed to fight back on her own.
He had every intention of being there to keep her out of harm’s way if he could.
Yet he also realized how important it was to her to feel prepared.
The woman had made it through college and three years of professional school. She clearly liked to learn.
Plus, it was an excuse to get close to her. So, maybe it wasn’t just for her. Could anyone really blame him?
The tension between them had skyrocketed in the gym.
He’d noticed her elevated heart rate when he locked her in his grip, the way her nipples poked at her sports bra.
She’d been just as turned on by their wrestling as he was.
Except for the unfortunate knee-to-the-junk interlude, which had been entirely his fault and provided some much-needed levity.
He loved to see her laugh, though hopefully next time, it wouldn’t be at his expense.
Afterward, Max had no expectations whatsoever that she would fall into his arms. But…he’d hoped. Of course he had. Because he was predictable.
And she’d gone, once again, into her bedroom and stayed there. While his overeager unconscious mind dreamed of her and delivered him an epic case of blue balls.
“Max?”
Jeez, he was hallucinating her voice now, too. When would his brain stop torturing him?
“Max?” she said louder. “Is everything all right?”
His head whipped toward the sound.
Lana stood in the doorway, like a vision straight out of his dreams. “I thought I heard you yell.”
Max grabbed his blanket to cover the tent in his pajama pants.
Then he switched on his bedside lamp. Lana’s face appeared, hair pulled up into a loose ponytail.
She was wearing a gauzy sleeveless top. Sleep shorts, which showed off her smooth legs.
It was another glimpse of the secret side of her, an intimacy he hadn’t been privy to for so long.
“Just a dream,” he said.
“A bad one?”
Ha. Not even close. A dream so good that it hurt. “Not really. Did I wake you?”
She stepped further into the room. “I was up.” Lana crossed her arms beneath her chest. He could see the outline of her breasts beneath the thin white fabric. The darker blush of her nipples against soft skin.
“I was feeling restless.” Her eyes darted over his bare torso. “What about you?”
He really couldn’t take any more banter right now. “I should get back to sleep.”
“What was your dream about?”
“I’m not in the mood to talk,” he ground out. “Try me tomorrow.”
Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated. “Maybe I’m not in the mood to talk, either.” She took another step toward him. Another.
God, what she was doing to him. His pulse thrummed at his neck. He would wait for her to be ready, but he didn’t want to be teased. “If you don’t mean that, please go. I don’t have a lot of patience at this exact moment.” Not after that dream.
“Who says I do?”
“Enough with the questions. Don’t cross-examine me.” He couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice. She was playing games with him. “Lana, what are you doing here? Just tell me.”
He could see her debating.
“I lied when I said I don’t want you. I do.”
His cock jumped. But the rest of him was still making a valiant effort to hold back. “You want me to what?”
“Now who’s being difficult?” She sat on the edge of his bed.
He reached for her. The movement was involuntary at this point. There were cracks forming in his willpower, and that dam was ready to break.
Definitely not a masochist. He’d had just about all he could take.
Max wound his fingers into her hair. Inhaled her scent. “If you don’t want this, you’d better tell me right now.” He pulled her head toward him, his mouth meeting her ear. “Because I’m not as gentle as I used to be.”
“Then be rough with me. I won’t break.”
Fuck. His eyelids closed, his breath seizing in his lungs. His teeth closed onto her earlobe. He made a fist in her hair, tugging hard at the strands.
“Oh, Max. I like you bad.”
He slammed his mouth onto hers. His tongue forced its way past her lips.
His kiss was punishing. Demanding. Lana opened to him instantly, then answered his intensity with her own.
She sucked at his tongue, and he felt it all the way in his sac.
He kicked the blankets away, and they fell to the floor.
Max swung his leg past her, turning his body.
He pushed her onto the mattress. He was on his hands and knees, his body like a cage above her.
Holy shit, this woman was beautiful. His eyes were greedy for her, marveling that he finally had her beneath him again.
He’d wanted this for far too long, even if he hadn’t admitted it until recently.
His lips moved to her neck, her collarbones. Kissing, tasting. The scent of lilacs was heady in his nose.
“Arms up.”
Lana complied. He shimmied her loose top past her head and tossed it across the room.
His mouth came down on her breast, tongue swirling around her nipple. He nipped at the pink nub of flesh, gratified by Lana’s moan in response. For several moments he lost himself in her round, perfect curves, until he felt Lana’s hand slide past the waistband of his pants.
He grabbed her wrists and extended them over her head. “I’m not ready for you to touch me yet. When I am, you’ll know.”
So far, Max had been letting his desperate need for her drive him. But at this pace, he was going to blow his load as soon as she got ahold of him and gave him one firm stroke. This moment had been ten years in the making. He forced himself to slow down and pay attention.
Lana was giving him a chance, and he had to make it count.
He was going to make tonight last as long as possible.
By the end of it, he was going to have her panting and begging and screaming his name.
He had to make her feel him so deeply that she would never be satisfied with anyone else.
And only then would he allow himself to finish.
He’d hit the brakes on their momentum. Max brought his mouth down on hers again, more deliberate this time, taking slow pulls from her lips.
He resumed his path down her body, running his nose along the skin between her breasts.
He tried to notice all the little details of her.
The freckles and the tiny hairs that were nearly invisible.
The lines of her ribs and the indentation of her belly button.
His hands traced down her arms, then along her sides, fitting into the notches of her waist. His feet lowered to the floor as he moved down her body.
When he got to the elastic of her shorts, he hooked his fingers into the fabric and pulled. They slowly slid downward, past inch after inch of toned, elegant leg. He left her underwear in place. As he nudged the shorts over her feet, he paused to kiss each ankle. The sole of each foot.
Then Max lowered his knees onto the floor, sitting back against his heels.
“How do you want me?” Lana asked.
“Stand up.”
She did. Max remained on the floor, staring up at her. “I’ve seen this view before. Just as beautiful as I remember.”
She smiled and tucked her fingers into his hair, then cupped his face. But he had other plans. Max held her hands and returned them to her sides.
“Turn around.”
Again, Lana did as he asked. Her back was long and smooth, her ass curving outward enticingly.
“Bend over.”
She glanced back at him. “What are you going to do?”
“What I want. Unless you say no.”
She bit her lip, turning back around. Lana bent over, resting her forearms on the mattress.
Her panties still covered her core, but he could see how wet she was.
He pushed his nose into the damp fabric.
Her smell was pure sex. His cock pulsed in his pajama pants, leaking in response to the stimulus.
“Oh, god,” she moaned.
“Do you remember the first time my tongue was inside you?”
Her voice was strained. “How could I ever forget?”
Max remembered that night in vivid detail. Their second night, the one he’d just been dreaming about. He’d laid her down on the floor, marveling at his luck. This girl had chosen him to share herself with. He’d spread her legs wide, and with his mouth, showed her just how much he appreciated her.
But in some ways, his task that night ten years ago had been so much easier. Because then, he was her first, and she had no one else to compare him to.
This Lana was older and wiser. More discerning. She’d had other partners.
Possessiveness made his chest tighten.
He’d never gotten jealous over his past lovers because they were temporary diversions, nothing more. But thinking of Lana with other guys made his competitive side wake up and take notice.
Max intended to erase every other man from her memory.
He yanked her panties over her hips. He wasn’t asking permission. Lana had a voice, and she could tell him to stop if she wanted to. Until then, he was going to do anything and everything to please her.
But first, he had to sit back and admire this view. Fuck yes. Miles of leg, the globes of Lana’s ass, and the heaven between her thighs. Right here on display, just for him.
She widened her stance, like she could feel his eyes. “Like what you see?” She wiggled her hips. He smacked playfully at one of her cheeks.
She started to laugh, and he dove forward, tonguing her slit. Lana cried out.
There we go, he thought. Got you exactly where I want you.
With his tongue and his lips and his teeth, Max worshipped her. Lana angled her hips to improve his access, pushing her core against his mouth. Fucking herself on his tongue. He loved the taste of her, the sounds she made. If she’d let him, he’d do this all night.
He switched the pressure to her clit, flicking over that sensitive bud again and again.
“Harder. Yes. Max, I need to come.”
He sucked on her clit, smacking her ass again with the flat of his palm. Lana nearly screamed as she orgasmed. She bucked against his face. Max grabbed her hips and gave her several more good laps of his tongue, until she stopped shuddering.
Then he kissed and caressed the cheek he’d spanked.
“Stay right there. Don’t move.” Wiping his mouth, Max got up. He shucked off his pajama pants. He’d left a spot of dampness on them from his precum. His cock bobbed, still leaking. The drawer of his nightstand slid out, and he found a condom inside. His fingers deftly rolled the latex into place.
“I’m going to fuck you now, Lana.”
She made an incoherent sound, but it was unmistakably an assent.
Her sex was still plenty wet from his efforts. Max lined himself up with her opening and buried his shaft inside.