Right then, it’s as if the floodgates let loose. “God, Mia.” He’s pushing his hands up my legs, taking the silky fabric of my dress with it, motions getting more frantic the more stocking he uncovers. He gathers my skirt in his fists, shoving it up over my knees.
I lift my butt, giving him an assist.
He shudders out a breath when he finds bare skin over thigh-high stockings.
He kisses the inside of my thigh, then he rubs his whiskers there, hungry, wildly, as if to mark me.
“Fuck, yes,” I pant.
He presses a thumb to my core, wet through silky undergarments, and moves it, slides it, stoking waves of pleasure while he attacks my other thigh with his hungry face.
It’s silk and sandpaper.
My breath catches. My toes curl.
He rumbles against my tender skin.
I squirm, whimpering with need.
I shove my hands into his hair. Air traffic control to Max!
And just like magic, he’s shoving my legs apart and kissing my pussy, the hot tenor of his breath against the silk that covers my clit. I hold his hair, holding on, loving him there.
He kisses me again. I’m diffuse with pleasure. My clit stands at attention, a tendril of need. The blunt pressure of his lips drives me nearly over the edge. Then his tongue is gone. He scrapes his teeth gently over my core.
I cry out, meeting his gaze.
“Need you bare,” he growls.
“Do you want me to…” My mind races with the logistics of the strapless bodysuit. “Um…”
He’s pulling at the fabric, shoving his fingers clear through the lacy part above the crotch, and then he just rips it down.
Cool air invades my hot, wet pussy.
“Taking it as a no,” I gasp.
He’s not done. “Need you spread out for me.” He pushes my legs wide over the chair arms. I’m about to protest, except his tongue is there, warm and thick against my core.
“Ohmigod.”
He licks up once, again.
My breath comes fast.
I’m so exposed to him, it’s madness, and the sexiest thing ever.
He grips my thighs, holding me apart as he licks me. He’s holding me in place as though he has me right where he wants me and he won’t be letting me go. He’s my roller-coaster and my seatbelt.
Mercilessly he licks me until I’m at the point of no return, the tippy-top of the arc, suspended before the freefall.
He draws his tongue roughly along my clit one more time. Pleasure explodes over my brain, bright behind my eyes.
I’m weightless. I’m crying out.
Max’s rumble is a merciless vibration between my legs. I tighten my grip on his hair. “Slower!”
He’s already there, following my cadence like the musician he once was.
Suddenly I’m laughing. It’s the release of pressure, and how crazy good that was, and how fast I came, and a little bit the sounds I made.
He kisses my belly through the part of the bodysuit he didn’t rip, and then gazes up at me in wonder.
“Need you inside,” I say.
Slowly he presses a finger into me.
My body shudders around him.
He doesn’t reply; he simply adds a finger.
“You,” I say. “You, Max.”
There’s something shattered about his gaze. He kisses the inside of my thigh, and then the other side for symmetry. And then he stands over me, leaving me with my legs over either chair arm.
“Stay like that,” he rumbles, undoing his bow tie in the dim light. “I’m sorry I wrecked your undergarment, but you waiting for me like this…so hot.”
“In other words, you’re not sorry at all.”
“Not sorry. I’m gonna take you just like that.” He whips off his bow tie and then he’s undoing his buttons. “You are so hot, it blows my mind.” He rips the rest of his shirt open, not bothering with the buttons, then skips to his pants.
“Cheating. One demerit.”
A wicked light shines in his eyes as he yanks off his belt. His pants are off and his cock juts upward, so thick and hard, it’s nearly against his belly. I’ve never seen his cock, but somehow, it’s so him. He has a condom, tearing it open.
“No, no, no.” I undo my sex-ready position and stand.
“Hey.”
I go to him. “Let me.” I want to be in on this with him. I kneel in front of him, wrapping my hand around him, marveling at his cock.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I love the shape of you,” I whisper, “how you’re slightly wider than round.” I kiss him and he groans. “I love this vein here.” I trail the side of him with my fingers.
“Mia,” he gasps. “I’m not an art exhibit.”
No, he’s something better. He’s undiscovered territory, wild and exotic, yet achingly familiar. So perfectly him.
I lick the underside, and it jumps. I do it again, reveling in the salty, musky maleness of him, and then I press my cheek to it.
“Mia.” His voice sounds strained.
I put him in my mouth, feeling the whole shape of him with my tongue and lips. I wrap my hand around his thick root and explore him. I don’t want to stop.
With other guys, I try to stage manage. Maybe set the scene with flower petals and candles. Or juice things up with breathless oohs and aahs, but Max and I are beyond that. We’ve been through a war together.
I pull him from my mouth and kiss just his tip.
Suddenly he’s out of my hand. He kneels in front of me. “You’re too slow,” he whispers.
“You’re too perfect,” I whisper.
“You’re too hot,” he says, watching my eyes.
A condom wrapper crinkles at the edge of my awareness.
My heart pounds. We’re kneeling face-to-face in this empty studio space in the middle of the city, me and my enemy who I know like the back of my hand, and all the walls are coming down.
“You’re too terrifying,” I finally say.
The light flooding in the windows is a faint dot of white in each of his eyes. “So are you,” he says.
I kiss him. I press into him because I want my chest against his, because my heart feels raw, like there’s a hole there that can only be plugged by his chest.
“Mia,” he rumbles into the kiss. He stands, pulling me up with him, never once breaking the kiss. I fling my legs around him and kiss him. He holds me aloft, kneading my partly-silk-clad butt cheeks.
“You’re gonna make me come again.”
“That’s the plan.” He whirls me around and we cross some expanse of floor—three feet or thirty feet, I have no idea. He sets me on some sort of surface.
My head lolls back.