Chapter Thirty-Six
Max
I wheel the room service tray into the bedroom of the suite, smiling at the sleepy-eyed goddess in my bed. She’s finally awake. “Morning, gorgeous.”
She hums. “Good morning to you, too.”
“What time is your flight?”
“I drove.”
My eyes widen as I position the cart beside her side of the massive bed. Considering my options, I shrug. “What time do we leave?”
“What?”
“To drive home. What time should we go?”
“Don’t be silly. You already paid for a flight.” She snorts. “Probably even first class, if I know you.”
She does know me. I sit beside her, then lean over, bracing one arm on the other side as I press a long kiss to her lips. “Technically, Apex Athletics paid for the flight.”
She giggles and I swoop in for another kiss, then pull her bottom lip between my lips and suck until she squirms. A man could get used to this kind of morning.
Pulling back, I drink her in. Her eyes are sleepy, but bright in the soft, early morning light pouring in through the drawn curtains.
There’s a pillow crease etched into the side of her cheek.
Without any makeup, there’s a spattering of freckles across her nose that I’ve only ever caught hints of.
I trail my finger down her nose. “You look beautiful in the morning.”
Sutton rolls her eyes. “I look sleep-deprived”—her stomach growls loudly—“and hungry.”
“Perfect timing. I ordered you food.”
“Just me?”
I tilt my head, looking between the room service cart and the knockout in my bed. “I have something else in mind for breakfast.”
I pull the sheets back and she squeals, but I level her with a look that stills her. “Eat your breakfast.”
Sutton’s lips quirk up to one side. “You too.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I wink and move down her legs, spreading them wide so I can settle onto my stomach between them.
“Max,” she says, a hint of warning in her tone.
I lift my gaze. “You sore?”
She bites into that bottom lip, then nods.
“Huh.” I’ll have to be extra gentle. With careful fingers, I spread her open for me, looking up in time to catch her suck in a breath.
Smirking, I hold her gaze as I bring my lips to her cunt, brushing them softly over her clit.
She shivers and I do it again, this time pulling it gently into my mouth.
I suck and she moans, dropping her head back against the tufted headboard.
She reaches for me, sliding her fingers into my hair. When she drags her fingernails against my scalp, I moan, the sound vibrating against her slick heat.
“Oh,” she says on an exhale. “Do that again.”
Happily. I press my mouth to her, then moan, pleased to watch her squirm.
Her hand tightens in my hair. “More.”
Demanding little thing, isn’t she?
I’m helpless when it comes to this woman. Anything she wants, I’ll give.
Anything she asks of me, I’ll obey.
I press my face against her, letting my nose tease at her clit while my tongue laps at her slick folds. We made love three times last night, and this woman gets wetter for me every fucking time.
She’s a gift I don’t deserve, but she’s mine.
And I wasn’t lying about making up for lost time.
She’s sore and sensitive, so I’m careful as I lick her, gently pressing my tongue into her hole, reveling in the sweetness of her.
I take my time, teasing her with careful strokes of my tongue, kissing her labia, that sensitive spot where her pussy meets her thigh.
She’s squirming in no time, but I keep my strokes gentle, my pace unhurried.
“Max,” she growls, digging both hands into my hair. “Make me come.”
I chuckle against her, then pull back, dragging my fingers through her folds, then massaging a slow, firm circle around her entrance. Holding her frustrated gaze, I press two fingers inside, pausing at the first knuckle.
Her nostrils flare, but we both know I love fucking with her.
I raise one eyebrow as I push forward to the next knuckle.
Her throat works on a swallow. Her eyes do their best impression of deadly lasers.
Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t say anything.
Too bad for her, I want her begging.
Keeping my fingers in position, just two knuckles deep, I lean over and nip at her upper thigh, smirking against her skin when a frustrated sound leaves her lips.
Moving to the other thigh, I drag my teeth over her flesh, then slowly lick that crease between her thigh and her sweet, greedy pussy.
She growls, the sound deep in her throat.
I lift my brows and tilt my head, running my tongue over my bottom lip slowly. My eyes close as I catch a hint of her arousal still lingering there.
Her cunt pulses around my fingers, trying to pull me in deeper.
“Max,” she snaps, and I lift my gaze. “Please.”
I move my fingers in a slow, teasing circle inside her.
“Please, Max,” she whines, tightening her fingers in my hair.
“Please what?” I say the words against her flesh, breathing against her heated skin.
“Please make me come,” she says, her voice breaking on the words. “Please, Max. I need you.”
“You have me, Sutton. I’m yours.” With that, I push my fingers inside, then pull out and add a third, watching her eyes roll back as I give her what she needs. Her body’s so ready to combust it takes just three pumps of my hand to get her there.
But I don’t stop just because she starts.
Her orgasm slams into her and I grip her hip when she tries to get away, pumping through each quake and tremor.
“Max,” she cries, but I hold onto her still.
“You can take it,” I promise, because she can.
She does.
I hold her still even as her body tries to jerk off the bed, pumping my fingers in and out in punishing thrusts, prolonging her orgasm until it looks like her soul might leave her body.
By the time she starts to settle, her thighs tremble and tears leak from her beautiful eyes.
I rub my hand over her breasts, her stomach, down over her thigh and back up again, soothing her heated skin, bringing her back to me slowly. When I ease my fingers from her, she shudders from the loss of me.
When she finally opens her eyes again, they’re floating. She’s still somewhere between earth and wherever her orgasm just took her.
I kiss her lower belly, then push off the bed. “You need to eat. We’ve had a long night.”
“I want to sleep.”
“Fine. After you eat.” I lift one of the silver cloches from the dining cart. Beneath it is a stack of fluffy pancakes, now probably cold. “Pancakes?”
“Sleep.”
“First we eat, then we sleep.”
“What about check out time?”
“Don’t worry about that.” I move to the next plate and lift the cloche, revealing a bowl of fresh fruit. “Fruit?”
Sutton’s eyes light up, but, as she often does, she ignores what her body wants. “Sleep first. Then I’ll eat.”
“Nope.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I grab a strawberry and grip the leaves at the crown, then bring it to her lips. “Eat first, then sleep. And maybe I’ll leave you alone long enough that you can actually get some rest.”
She smirks, then licks her lips. “That sounds boring.”
Fuck, I love this woman.
“I don’t eat before coffee.” She shrugs, then sinks lower into the bed, snuggling down beneath the covers. When she closes her eyes, I huff out a breath.
“If you won’t feed yourself, I’ll feed you.” I smirk when her eyes flash with indignance, then I tap the fresh berry against her lips. “Open.”
She runs her tongue across her teeth, then rolls her eyes.
Oh, she wants to play brat and brat tamer, does she?
Fine by me.
“We skipped out on dinner, and we worked out all night long.” When my words have the desired effect, and her cheeks flush, I tap the strawberry against her lips again.
Honestly, I expected her to be a bit more pliable after that orgasm I just gave her.
Not that I don’t love this stubborn side of her as well.
Maybe even more than compliance. “Open.”
Her gaze drops to my side and her mouth falls open. I take the opportunity to push the strawberry inside.
“Good girl,” I say—
And then I freeze.
Because her eyes are like saucers.
Fuck.
My heart bangs against my ribs, a frantic, wild beat. My mouth goes dry, my tongue trapped to the roof of it and unable to form words. But I have to say something.
Anything.
Fuck!
She knows.
Those honeyed-amber eyes are searching mine for answers to questions she already knows the answers to.
She knows.
It’s evident in the rigid set of her shoulders, the way her nostrils flare as her breath quickens. The way her eyes have gone so wide you’d think she saw a ghost. The way that she pulls away from me, the growing distance between us tangible, painful… even though she hasn’t physically moved.
“Sutton, I—”
She shakes her head, then her mouth moves robotically as she chews through what’s left of that bite of fruit, and my circle of vision gets smaller and smaller as I wait.
My heart and my world are about to implode and all I can do is sit here and wait.
She swallows hard and her eyes drift down to my torso, then back up to my face.
Then down again, like she’s trying to make sense of something.
Looking down, I realize what I’ve done.
Fucking Christ, it’s as simple as that.
Three little dots.
She’s traced those freckles every time I’ve held her in my arms after a scene.
I close my eyes on a long blink, the pain in my chest threatening to crush my lungs. When I finally look up at her, the sheen of tears in her eyes steals my breath. I rock forward as agony rips through my chest, bracing myself with a hand on the edge of the bed.
“What have you done?”
She whispered the words but she may as well have screamed them.