He held her hip with one hand, positioned her over his cock. “Fuck me, Max, if that’s all you can do.”
She slammed down onto him, wet enough to take him all the way, hitting high in that first thrust. She almost came. He groaned and broke skin with his nails in her butt.
“Jesus.” He gulped air.
Impossibly hot and hard, he pulsed inside her. She relished the feeling. “Was that good?”
“You are definitely going to be the death of me.”
She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the pillow beside him. He plunged, his thighs tensing beneath her. She closed her eyes and moaned with the impact.
“You want me to ride you or do you want to try to do all the work?” Max didn’t care which he chose. He felt too damn good either way.
“Make me come. I don’t give a fuck about heaven this time. I want to come inside you.”
Her body moved on its own. She leaned low, pushing back and bringing her clit in contact with his wiry pubic hair. Just enough friction inside and out. Her nipples grazed his chest. His hands flexed her butt, squeezing her tight around him on every downslide. She swiped at his throat with her tongue, bit his shoulder, licked a bead of sweat from his forehead, taking him in any way she could get him without losing the hard rhythm.
The bed creaked. Witt groaned. Max panted. He throbbed inside her, slamming hard, and she knew when he rolled his head back into the pillow that he was about to shoot.
She let go, came with him, taking his mouth with hers, milking his cock with her *. Contracting around him, she stole his essence, wringing it from him. She tasted blood on her tongue and reveled in the sting of his nails breaking flesh again.
She climaxed with the power of his cry against her lips.
Chapter Thirteen
The bed was too short for Witt’s long legs and too narrow for the two of them. Sometime in the night, he gathered Max in the blankets and settled on the braid rug covering her bare floor. She fell asleep cradled to his chest, his big arm around her shoulders. She’d never felt quite so secure.
A jay squawked outside the window a little before first light, and she woke submerged with Witt in a bundle of bedclothes on her bed. He’d managed to settle her while she slept. Talk about feeling safe and secure, she hadn’t even felt him make the move. His deep breath fanned her hair. She’d spooned with him in her sleep, and now, with the cleansing scent of a fresh morning breeze through the open window, she pushed back against him, gently rotating her hips. He was asleep. He’d never know. She could luxuriate in the feel of a man in her bed.
A hard man. His cock rose along the crease of her backside. Max stopped playing and held her breath, afraid she’d wake him if she moved again. She wanted this time for herself, when she didn’t have to worry about keeping up any barriers.
“Don’t stop,” he murmured in her ear.
Darn. She’d woken him, and his warm breath was making her all gooey and hot. “I wasn’t doing anything,” she said.
“Then you musta been dreaming about doing me.”
“I most certainly was not.”
She tried to shuffle away. He bound her to him with his arm across her belly, his fingers splayed just above her mound. This time he rotated against her. “Nice way to wake me up. Other nice things we could do, too, since it isn’t even light out yet.”
Yes, yes, please. “You have to go home and change for work.”
“I have to do something to keep you remembering me all day.” He slipped his index finger to her clitoris, rocking gently at her back with his cock while massaging her sensitive sex. “Open your legs.”
“Witt.”
“You argue too much. Open up.”
He was right, and his touch was too good to argue with. She raised her leg and hooked it behind his knee.
“Ah yeah. Are you always this wet in the morning?” He slid deep, breaching her with two fingers.
She moaned. “Are you always this hard in the morning?” It was sort of amazing after the wild time they’d had last night.
“Your influence. Perpetually hard around you.”
She pushed her head back against his shoulder as he gave her clitoris a particularly delicious swipe.
“God, I want to fuck you. Again. I can’t get enough.”
Do it, do it. But she liked the slow tantalizing thrill of his fingers, too, the rhythm of his body as he pumped lightly along the crease of her butt.
“Not gonna do it, though.” His voice was just a husky breath caressing her throat.
“Why not?” Darn. She shouldn’t have asked. It shouldn’t matter. At least she didn’t want him to think it did.
“I like living on the edge, with thoughts of you spread out on my kitchen table. A smorgasbord.” He worked her clitoris as he spoke, keeping her on the edge, making her hotter and wetter, but never increasing the pace, holding off on the final burst.
She loved it.