Dead to the Max (Max Starr, #1)

“I’m as alive as you make me. Take off your T-shirt.”


There was experiencing a real, physical touch. And then there was feeling a real man’s touch, even if he was dead. God, the truth was she craved both equally. Still, she didn’t move.

“Take it off,” he insisted with a beguiling heat in his voice.

She wanted touch, his touch. Sitting up, she disturbed the cat cuddled against her. It stared at her with wide yellow eyes, then jumped from the bed to the sill and finally to a branch outside.

Peeling the shirt off felt like rubbing silk against her breasts. She flopped back against the mattress and closed her eyes before he told her to.

“I’m going to lick your breasts.”

Her nipples peaked inside his warm wet mouth. The nice thing about an ethereal lover was that they could be everywhere at once. His tongue captured both breasts and the burgeoning button of her clit all at the same time. She arched on the bed.

“Moan for me, baby.” The other nice thing was that he didn’t have to stop sucking on her when he talked.

Max moaned loudly. A pearl of heat and moisture beaded between her legs. She put her hands there to intensify the sensation, to make him tongue her harder, faster.

Then he took his mouth away. “I don’t want you to come too soon.”

“But you can make me come over and over.”

“No. Just once.”

“But I want more.”

He whispered a kiss, scented with her tangy juices, across her lips. “It’ll be so much better because you had to wait for it. Now roll over.”

“Roll over?”

“I’m going to kiss your back. All over. Remember how you loved that?”

Her back was an erogenous zone. His tongue would tickle, and she would writhe. She’d always come the quickest with his kiss on her back, a hand shoved beneath her, a finger sliding across her clit, and a deep thrust hitting home between her legs.

She rolled over. First came the light caress of his lips, from her shoulder blades to the base of her spine. Moisture creamed the inside of her thighs. She rolled her hips against the mattress.

Then came the tongue. He lapped at the indentation of every vertebrae. He reached beneath and pinched her nipples. He gave her clitoris a swipe. He was everywhere. Trembling, she raised her butt and spread her legs slightly, inviting his penetration doggie style. He continued kissing, licking, sucking every bit of flesh, his chest a hairy mat rubbing against her. She wriggled, but it earned her only the blunt tip of his cock massaging between the wet folds, not the penetration she craved.

The pressure was intense, yet still building.

“Finger yourself,” he commanded, feathering delicious light kisses all over her back.

“I want you inside me.”

“I’ll stop if you don’t finger yourself. I want to watch.”

She’d die if he stopped, so she shoved her hand between her legs and found her clitoris. She rubbed, her body moved, humping her hand as if it was his cock.

“God, it turns me on watching you.”

She pretended to herself that he could really see. With her eyes closed, she imagined the feverish light sparking in his. She reached inside, coated her fingers and went back to her clit. So slippery, so delicious, so incredible, especially knowing that he watched and liked what he saw.

She felt him slide beneath, the rush of warmth as he blew hot air on her hot body, on her hot, hot clit. While she toyed with herself, he stuck a finger up inside her, then two, and massaged her canal.

“Oh my God,” she gasped. “Oh my God, I’m going to come.”

He immediately pulled out. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh God.”

“I said don’t come. Stop touching yourself.”

She felt him jerk her fingers away, and the come hovered on the edge of the horizon. “Please. Tongue me. Fuck me. Anything.”

He rose behind her. As she’d played with herself, she’d risen to her knees, her butt high in the air. Now, he soaked his cock in her juices, rubbed between her cheeks, then nudged her rear entry.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to fuck you in the ass until you scream.”

She froze. “No,” she said.

“Yes,” he countered.

“It’ll hurt.”

“But you said you deserved punishment.”

“Yes—I—no.” He had her so hot, she couldn’t think.

Then he changed his tone, cajoled. “It won’t hurt, baby. That’s the nice thing about being a ghost. You don’t need condoms and you don’t need lube.”

“But...”

“I’ll let you come only if I get to fuck you in the ass.”

Her body wept. She was a mass of sensation from head to toe. Her clit throbbed. Her muscles twitched with need. The tip of his cock breached her, then a finger rubbed, once, twice, across her clitoris. She bore down on the touch, accidentally taking a tiny bit more of his cock.

“That’s all you get if you don’t let me fuck you in the ass.”

“I can give myself my own orgasm,” she said, still fighting him.

“It won’t be as sweet.”