Chapter 24
There’s something heady in the air. The sexual tension coating my skin is heavy and thick. I could feel Max get hard under my thigh, but I figured he wouldn’t make a move unless he knew I was game for it.
And boy, I sure am game for it.
Max couldn’t stop complimenting me at dinner.
Praising my cooking skills, reveling in how I’ve gotten him to eat so many vegetables.
I’ve never had a man be so verbal with compliments.
Sure, I’d get the occasional “that sex was hot.” But rarely anything else.
Experiencing Max has been enlightening. It makes me wonder if he’s always like this, or if he’s consciously trying to build up my confidence.
Is this all an act? God, I hope not. I really like this version of Max, where he’s at peace in his space, sees the good people around him, and makes an effort to let them know he cares for them.
But I never expected to learn that I really have a praise kink, because by the end of dinner, my legs were shaking with desire. I’d actually wondered if I could make myself come with a couple of thigh rubs.
Max runs a hand up my back and into my hair. Grabbing a handful, he moves my head to where he wants it. “Eyes on me.”
I didn’t realize I’d closed my eyes, and when I open them, he smiles.
“You’re such a good girl, Layla.” I preen at the words, but inwardly laugh at how ridiculous it is to be turned on by Max calling me a good girl. I’m sure a therapist would have a field day with what I’ve discovered about myself over the last couple of years.
“Max,” I whimper, attempting to move and gain some friction, but his free arm clamps around my waist, holding me still. “Please.”
“Please what?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. His brown eyes are blown out with lust, so much so that I can barely see the irises. Chin out and jaw flexing, the man looks like he’s in his element. I might have a praise kink, but Max has a dominant kink.
“Please make me come,” I whisper. “I’m so turned on. I need to come.”
“We’ve barely even scratched the surface, Peaches. Have you been turned on all evening?” he asks evenly, and I nod. “Did it turn you on when I complimented dinner? And talked about what a great cook you are?”
I nod again. “Yes.”
“My sweet girl really does have a thing for praise,” he murmurs. Gripping my head, he crashes our lips together, immediately slipping his tongue into my mouth. The velvet smoothness slides confidently around my tongue, and I wrap my arms around his neck. God, he makes me feel so good.
Lightning illuminates the apartment as Max grabs the hem of my shirt.
I raise my arms, and he pulls it over my head, then grabs the straps of my bra, yanking them down my arms. When my boobs pop free, he sucks a nipple deep into his mouth, and I cry out.
He alternates between my nipples as I shamelessly rock against his cock.
I feel an orgasm rocketing toward me, and just as I’m about to fall off the cliff, Max stills my movements.
“Don’t you dare come yet, Layla. You come when I say so. ”
No! He’s not allowed to be an asshole right now! Can’t he save that shit for the team?
Max chuckles, the heat of his breath causing goosebumps to erupt over my chest. “I can be an asshole at work and at home, baby. But I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll let me do it again and again.”
“I thought I only said that in my head,” I admit. “But I’m not apologizing.”
“Didn’t figure you would,” he answers. “Now take off your pants.”
“Take them off me yourself,” I sass, then giggle nervously when he responds with a wicked grin.
“Oh, this is how we’re playing it? Okay.” Max puts his hands on my waist, manhandling me onto my feet, then grabs the waistband of my shorts. They’re thin cotton, mostly what I wear when I’m relaxing at home, so I shouldn’t be surprised when he rips them right off my body, but I am.
“Max!” I shriek. “I didn’t mean it that way!”
He shrugs. “Should have been specific, Peaches. I did what you asked.”
Sticking my lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, I pop my hands on my hips. “You had to have known I didn’t want them to be ruined.”
“Isn’t that something men do in romance books?” he asks, reaching out to stick a finger under the band of my thong, running the tip along my skin.
“It is, but I don’t think men actually do it in real li — wait.” I pause, watching as Max smirks at me. “How did you know that?”
“One thing you need to know about me,” he says huskily, sliding his arms around to pull me toward him, “is that I’m always up for research. Women read romance books. I wanted to know why women read them, so I put in some time. How do you think I knew they are called spicy books?”
“And what did you learn?” I ask, curiosity clear in my voice. I find it insanely attractive how Max keeps surprising me.
His hands slip to cup my ass. “Do you want to know what I learned about love, or about what is written about sex?”
I swallow harshly. “The latter.”
Max kneads my ass in response, and I almost moan.
“Women like dirty talk in books. They want to come more than once, and they’d like to be creative with locations and positions.
Sex on top of a bar after a restaurant is closed.
At the top of a ski run. Against a tree in broad daylight. Honestly, the options are limitless.”
“Did you, uh, learn anything about what you want during sex?” I whisper.
He nods. “I want control and to have your eyes on me every time you come. I want your taste and smell to seep from my pores. And I need you to sit on my fucking face right the fuck now before I take you over my knee and spank you for not cooperating.”
I feign indignation, even as my core lights up. “You did not just suggest you’d spank me!”
His hand slips between my thighs from behind, and I loudly groan. “Baby. Don’t even act like you wouldn’t love it. I can feel how much wetter you got at the mere suggestion.”
“I don’t want to be a masochist,” I admit, my voice no louder than a whisper.
Max nods, smiling understandably. “You’re not. If the only way you could get off was by me inflicting pain, then it would be a different story. Now. Are you going to take off this tiny piece of fabric that is covering that delectable pussy, or do I need to rip that off as well?”
Muffling a curse, I quickly pull my thong down, determined to keep at least one piece of my clothing intact. Max lays down on the couch, then crooks a finger at me, beckoning me forward.
“Watch the storm,” he murmurs as I position one knee on each side of his head.
“But I thought you wanted my eyes on you,” I reply, confused.
“Normally, I would. But right now, I want to watch you watching the lightning. Feel the storm as I eat you, let it swirl around you as I take you closer and closer to coming. Then I want your eyes on me,” he says gruffly, grabbing onto my legs and pulling me down to his mouth.
The moment his lips surround my clit, I can barely keep my eyes open and focused.
Pleasure zings through every nerve in my body, much like the wind whips through the open door.
Max wastes no time getting me right at the edge of the cliff, but pulls back again and again.
My thighs begin to shake as perspiration covers my body.
A heavy rain pelts the building exterior, wind bringing part of it inside, but neither of us notice.
My gaze is locked on Max, watching as he winds me up again.
“Max, please,” I whimper, and I see an almost imperceptible nod in response.
He slips a hand around my leg, sliding two fingers inside me.
Finding my G-spot immediately, he taps against it at the same pace as he sucks on my clit.
A wave of pleasure so exquisite, so indescribable, overtakes me, and I lose the ability to breathe as I ride the wave.
Aftershocks rack my body as I collapse down against Max, and I attempt to slide off his face, but he won’t let me.
Lips never leaving my pussy, he immediately builds me up again, never letting me catch my breath as I come twice more.
“No more,” I moan, my entire body shaking.
“You’ve got at least two more,” he murmurs, but reluctantly lets go of my legs.
I slide to the side, against the back of the couch, and close my eyes.
It’s not lost on me that I’m only wearing a bra, while Max is completely clothed, but there was something inherently sexy about what just happened.
I felt like I was taking ownership over my orgasms somehow.
“No more,” I mutter. “My vagina has a pulse.”
Max snorts. “Pretty sure that’s a good thing.”
“Not when blood flow has circumvented my heart to go straight to my clit. It will all be dead if I don’t get a second to catch my breath.”
Max shifts, carefully pushing me to the end of the couch, and stands up. He takes the blanket we were using to cuddle and covers me. “Relax. I’ll get the piggies back in their cage. Did I tell you I bought them a bigger cage?”
I yawn. “No. You didn’t need to do that. I don’t want to spend money on that right now.”
“I didn’t spend your money, I spent mine,” he says as he flits around the room.
Eyes closed, I listen as he opens the cage, then grabs one of the balls.
He murmurs quietly to whichever girl he’s unloading first, but his voice is so low I can’t hear much else except for the words “home” and “comfort.”
“Whatcha saying to them?” I ask.
“Nothing.” More quiet rumblings as he pops the other pig into the cage.
“Liar.”
Max laughs. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“They’re my pigs, Max.”
I hear him pad toward me, then feel his arms under my body as he easily lifts me into his arms. “Fine. You want to know what I told them?”
“Yes.”
“I said this is home, and you’re never leaving.”
I snort, lifting my head to look at him. “Funny. What did you really say?”
“What?” he asks innocently, his eyes sparkling. “I told them I have every intention of keeping you naked and chained to my bed until I can knock you up and make you marry me.”
“I honestly can’t tell what you’re being truthful about,” I reply warily.
“Maybe all of it. Maybe nothing at all. At this moment, does it really matter, though?” As we enter his room, he launches us onto the bed. His face only an inch from mine, he smiles. “Your pussy still pulsating?”
“No?”
“Good. You said you wanted me to fuck you hard, so I’m gonna do that now.”
“Okay,” I reply excitedly. Max covers my lips with his, sliding both arms around my back tightly.
I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling his cock hit my core perfectly, and my body shivers in response.
“No” may have been a little presumptuous of me.
My pussy is still pulsating. With my lips still plastered to his, I mumble, “You should have taken off your pants before you got on top of me.”
“You’re underestimating my dick’s ability to break through clothing. I think he’s stronger than cotton.”
I run a hand along the nylon joggers he’s wearing. “This isn’t cotton.”
“What the hell is it then?” he asks as he peppers kisses down onto my neck.
“Nylon is synthetic — oh, that’s a good spot right there,” I sigh breathily as he nibbles on my collarbone. Pulling an arm from underneath me, he grabs a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tweaking it perfectly. “Another good spot.”
“Oh yeah?” he murmurs. “I like finding your good spots.”
“I have lots of good spots. Why are your pants still on? I’m still waiting for the non-gentle fucking I’ve requested. Are you a tease?” When his head pops up, I open my eyes to find him staring at me in disbelief. “What?”
“Since when have I ever been a tease?” he asks incredulously.
“I don’t know. Do you really want me to think of examples right now?”
His eyes narrow. “I think you’re the tease, getting me all riled up by having the best tasting pussy I’ve ever had my tongue inside, and now you’re being all sassy again. Maybe you really do need me to spank the sass right out of you.”
My eyes widen. “I really can’t tell if I want that or not, and that scares me a little bit.”
Max chuckles. “So we’re adding spanking to the ‘let’s revisit this in the future’ category, but not the ‘absolutely not’ category.”
“That sounds about right. But will you please fuck me now? Do I have to beg?”
He smiles wolfishly. “I do love it when you beg.”
I roll my eyes as I slide a hand between our bodies, cupping his incredibly stiff length.
“Please, Sunshine. Baby. Snookums. Please fuck me with your giant cock so that I walk bow-legged tomorrow, and everyone will know you’re the reason why —” I’m stopped when Max lets out a tortured groan, slamming our mouths together.
His kiss is passionate, desperate, and hot as hell.
I can taste myself on his tongue, and it’s incredibly erotic.
When he breaks off the kiss, he pants as he rests his forehead against mine. “That was hot.”
“The kiss, or me talking about walking bow-legged tomorrow?”
Max shakes his head. “The part where everyone would know you’re mine.”
I sharply inhale. “That’s not exactly what I said.”
“It’s what I heard, and it’s what everyone will know.” His gaze is penetrating. Jesus, this Max is intense and ridiculously hot. “Do you get me, Layla? You need to know it too. You’re mine.”
Holy shit.
Insanely hot.