Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
The Devil Wears Lace
Cheyenne
“You… The thought of you leavin’ and not knowin’ how much I need you.”
Need. Not want.
I didn’t think my heart could take anymore today. He didn’t just want me. He needed me. And as much as I hated to admit it, I think I needed him to. That was the only thing that could explain the pain I felt driving away.
Maverick set me down on my feet slowly, though he made no move to pull out of my embrace. “How ‘bout I drive us back to the house and I tell you all the ways I want you as we wash up?”
I tucked a stray curl behind my ear. “I like the sound of that.”
Desire sparked in his gaze, his grip on me tightening ever so slightly. Without another word, he whisked me up, carried me to my truck—where Brandy still waited—and drove us to the house.
Every second, every inch closer to the house we went, the more the tension in the car grew. It was like a wildfire, growing, spreading, rising. By the time he shifted the truck in park and opened the driver’s side door, I all but shook with anticipation.
He came around to the passenger-side, pulling me out of the truck before I could say a word. Then I was in his arms again as he carried me toward the front door. His lips found mine, one of his hands holding me up, while the other slithered along the curve of my waist and towards one of my breasts.
God, he made me burn. Brighter than any fire. The sun, even.
I vaguely heard Brandy’s toenails on the concrete floor, before nothing. She must have curled up on the carpet in the living room. I glanced back and grinned. Good girl.
Maverick’s hands sparked desire through my veins as he carried me to his room. Once in the bathroom, he relinquished his hold on me long enough to turn on the water.
Not even a heartbeat later he was there again, towering over me with his lean, chiseled frame. Most of his face lurked in shadow from his cowboy hat. His hands trembled as he held my waist.
I shivered and reached up, pulling his hat off.
“Caref—” he said before nodding as I sat it upside down on the countertop.
I grinned. “Don’t worry, cowboy. I know the rules.”
He chuckled, his breath fanning against my cheeks, as he slowly—painfully slowly—began undoing the snap pearl buttons of my shirt.
My gaze flicked to his. “So, you finally gonna tell me what all you wanna do to me?”
His lips tugged upward as he pulled the last button free. He trailed a finger from the hemline of my jeans all the way up my stomach, and to my bra. “I want to kiss every single inch of you,” he murmured, pulling my shirt off and discarding it on the ground.
I followed suit—albeit much quicker—all but ripping his shirt off before working on the tank he always wore beneath. “Mmm,” I murmured as he traced lazy patterns along my shoulders and chest. “That sounds nice, but I think you can do better.”
He worked at my jeans next. First the buckle, then my zipper, before I shuffled out of them.
One of his hands toyed at the lacy fabric of my underwear as he held me against him.
Maverick’s mouth found the corner of mine before dipping to the curve of my jaw.
He kissed a path up along it before nipping at my earlobe.
“I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours again.” His voice was a deep, sexy rumble in my ear.
My knees went weak, a gasp escaping me. “Maverick.” I never expected him to say something like that.
His eyes glinted, almost wickedly. God, he was fucking hot.
“It’s true,” he breathed, his lips moving on to the column of my neck.
“I want to fuck you on the counter. Like I should’ve done the other night.
And the dining room table. I want to take you in that armchair in my room, and have you sit on my cock and ride me ‘til you’re a screamin’, wild mess. ”
I shivered, my breath hitching in my throat as one of his hands dipped to the curve of my ass and squeezed.
“You got quite the mouth on you, cowboy,” I whispered.
One of the corners of his lips pulled up into the ghost of a smirk, a huff of laughter escaping him. “But what I wanna do right now, is take you in that shower, kiss you breathless, and fuck you from behind.”
A laugh bubbled out of me. He couldn’t possibly know just how much I loved a foul mouth. I trailed my fingers over the plains of his stomach, undoing his buckle and mirroring his actions from earlier.
“Well,” I said, dipping a hand beneath the hem of his boxer briefs and settling over his hard cock. “What’re you waitin’ for?”
It was the invitation he needed.
One minute, we were standing there, the next, we were both fully unclothed and dipping beneath the spray of steaming water.
He dragged his mouth to mine, one of his hands going for my breasts, while the other slid to my core.
His fingers teased it in soft strokes that sent desire rippling through me and making my knees go weak.
His mouth clashed with mine, a war of tongues, teeth.
I reveled in the flames of pleasure that stoked higher, hotter, and brighter with every touch of his.
My hand drifted over the planes of his chiseled stomach, along the V of his hips, before resting on his hard cock.
A groan went through him, making his chest rumble.
I don’t think I’d ever heard a sexier sound.
My body answered on instinct, a shiver of desire shooting straight to my core.
“Easy,” he murmured, breaking our kiss to whisper in my ear. “You keep doin’ that and I won’t be able to do all the things I wanna do to you.”
A wicked smirk pulled on my lips. “Is that so? Well, then…” I grabbed his cock and slid my hand up and down the hard length.
He pulled back enough to peg me with his burning green gaze. There was so much heat, so much wicked desire lurking in that stare, that my breath escaped me in a gasp.
God, I wanted him. Wanted him inside me. His touch, his kisses, they were nice, but I needed more. I needed to feel him, every hard inch of him as he slammed his cock inside me.
A low chuckle came from Maverick, challenge sparking in his gaze. “Oh, so you wanna play that way?”
I tilted my chin up at him, a defiant gesture, meeting his heated stare.
I picked up the pace as I stroked him, watching the war play out on his features.
Challenge and pleasure battled, and for a moment, I thought he’d give in and let me win.
But then he lifted me, pressing me firmly against the wall of the shower, one hand wrapped around my neck with his cock poised at my entrance.
My eyes widened even as my body reacted to him—caging my legs around his waist. Surprise pumped through me. I hadn’t expected this raw emotion from him. This dominance. This darkness. But I loved it. I loved everything about it.
And I wanted more.
His hand at my throat lingered, waited, his gaze holding a question in it. “This too much?”
I kissed him, pulling him closer, a silent plea to continue. He matched me—unrestrained, like up until this point he’d never fully given all of himself. When I pulled away, water dripping down every inch of us, I bit his lip, earning a hiss from him.
“That all you got, cowboy?”
Dark desire exploded like a supernova in his eyes.
He slid into me—one fast, fluid motion. I cried out, my head falling back against the tile.
Maverick set up a slow pace. We rose and fell to a rhythm all our own, ebbing and swelling with each stroke, each thrust, each brush of our bodies.
His grip on my throat tightened. Not enough to block off the air, but a delicious pressure that sent my desire blazing through me.
Maverick’s intense stare met mine. “You like that?”
I nodded, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth. His gaze flicked to it, hunger washing over his features. He thrust into me, his hand still on my throat as I held his gaze.
“But I want more.”
His scarred brow rose and he stilled inside me. No. No, I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted the exact opposite. I moved against him, urging him to continue.
He exhaled a low huff of laughter and eased me to the floor.
A spark of anger surged to life. “Maverick, wha—” But my words left me in a rush as he spun me around, his cock brushing against my backside and his hot breath in my ear. “Bend over.” The words were low, gravelly, and filled with so much domineering intensity that I didn’t hesitate to obey.
I braced my hands against the tile, bending over for him.
He gripped my hips, poising himself at my entrance, but he didn’t slide in.
No, it seemed he was proving a point. That he was in control.
At least, for the moment. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss right between my shoulder blades.
A shiver shot through me as I arched into him. “Maverick,” I breathed. “Please.”
A hum of satisfaction escaped him, vibrating in his chest like thunder rolling in before a storm. A precursor to what was coming. “I like when you say my name.”
He teased me once more, his cock right. Fucking.
There. I tried to lean back into him—something, anything to have him in me once more—but he held my hips firm.
Wrapping an arm around me and forcing me upright just a bit, one of his hands went to my breast, squeezing, kneading, before teasing my nipple. Desire sparked in my core.
I moaned. God, I was close. I’d be closer if he’d actually fuck me again.
“Maverick,” I repeated as he rained kisses up and down the column of my neck.
But still, he didn’t make a move to enter me.
That’s it. I couldn’t take it anymore. Glancing back at him, defiance and challenge coating my words, I bit out, “Fuck me. Now.”
His lips drew up into the sexiest goddamn smirk I’d ever seen. “Who's got the mouth now, darlin?”
But my words spurred him into action. With a thrust, he slid his cock into me, picking up a quick, steady pace.
Easing me down a bit—my hands fighting for purchase on the wet walls—he palmed my breast, working me closer to the edge with each wild touch and thrust of his hips.
All the while, he rained kisses down my shoulder, my neck, even along the curve of my spine.
There was something possessive about each movement.
Like he wasn’t just fucking me, but worshiping me. Worshiping my body with his.
Just that thought alone made me teeter on the edge of an orgasm. I was poised on the precipice, my desire burning so hot through my veins that I trembled.
It hurt. Hurt so fucking good.
I think he understood that somehow. Just from my body language, from the little cries that fell from my lips.
Upping the tempo, his movements turned faster, wilder.
And then he grabbed my ponytail, gripping it tight, and tilted my head up.
He kissed along my neck, down to the base of my throat, his teeth scraping against my skin as he nipped and caressed me along the way.
I gasped as heat scorched through me, starting in my toes and working its way up, up, up. My nerve endings were on fire, sparking and sizzling as my orgasm loomed just before me.
And then he bit me.
Not hard enough to draw blood. Not hard at all, really, just the right amount of pressure along the muscle of my neck.
That was all it took. One bite. One thrust. And I was shattering apart atop his cock, my cries drowning out the sound of the shower. Maverick didn’t slow, in fact, he thrust into me harder, faster with a delicious, brutal intensity I’d never felt before.
He all but roared his release as he slipped out of me just at the last second, though he held me close as we both rode the waves of our orgasm.
I lost track of how long we stayed like that, our breaths and heartbeats syncing up as we came down from the high of what we’d just done.
The water rained down on us still, the warmth of the droplets almost cold compared to the heat still pumping through my veins.
“That was…” I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my chin on his chest. “Can we do that again?”
His lips curled up into a satisfied smirk as he pushed some of my wet curls back off my face. “Give me a few minutes, and gladly,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss me softly.
My stomach decided at that moment to rumble to life—a pang of hunger stirring within me. Of fucking course.
Maverick’s hooded gaze turned to one of mild concern. “You hungry?”
I waved him off, reaching up on tiptoe to kiss him once more. “I’d rather fuck you.”
He smirked, but the concern didn’t leave his gaze. “Food first,” he said, “fuck later.” His words held a finality to it that I didn’t bother fighting.
I knew a losing battle when I saw one. With a dramatic huff, I rolled my eyes. “Fiiine.”
His gaze warmed, his smirk widening as he flicked my nose and urged me from the shower. As we made our way into the bedroom, I noticed the MRC brand on his back. Right on his left shoulder. They must all have one.
I’d always wanted a tattoo or a brand, but never could decide on having something on me permanently. Charlie and Ryder both had their tattoos, and I absolutely loved them, but I just couldn’t think of something I'd want forever.
Maverick tossed me one of his t-shirts, which I slipped on happily. “So,” he asked, sliding into a pair of pajama pants. “What’dya want?”
I pulled my sopping wet hair out of the ponytail, and ran my fingers through it. “No, I wanna cook.”
“You sure? I don’t mind.”
“I know you don’t. But you always cook.”
He shrugged as we made our way to the kitchen. “I like to cook.”
I stopped him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Please, Maverick. Let me do this for you.”
I don’t know why, but I wanted, no, needed to do this. To show him just how much this moment meant to me. He’d talked. I don’t know the how or the why of it, but the fact he’d talked for me meant more than I could ever explain.
He gripped my chin, holding my stare. Whatever he saw there softened the harsh lines of his face. He nodded, leaning down to brush his lips against mine once more. “Okay. So, what’re you makin’ me?”