I pushed him back and followed him, moving up over him to straddle his hips as my hands went to his shirt, lifting it up. Max helped, his hands went from me to the back of his neck where he tugged the shirt over his head, down his arms and he tossed it away.
It was my time, my chance, his magnificent chest was right there in front of me and I wanted to explore.
So I bent, my lips going to his neck, my hands going to his body, both explored, fingers, lips, tongue, teeth. I slid down, bowed my back to get to him, taste his skin, drift the tips of my fingers across the ridges of his belly, run the edges of my teeth against his nipple, the sound of him sucking in breath forcing a surge of wetness to strike between my legs.
His fingers curled into my shirt and up it went, forcing my torso up, my arms then it too was tossed away and Max’s hands came to my back, pressing in, forcing me to arch forward, pushing me up and his lips fastened on my nipple over my bra.
“Max,” I breathed as the sensation of his mouth closing on me rocked through my body, my hands sliding into his hair and his tongue flicked out.
Even over my bra this felt better than his fingers, way better. He had a very strong tongue.
“More,” I demanded on a whisper, my hips instinctively rolling against his hard crotch and his mouth went away but his hand pulled my bra down, his fingers curling around my breast and there it was, Max’s mouth direct on me.
Divine.
I tipped my head down to watch and there was something so amazing about Max’s dark head close to my skin, his tanned hand holding my breast to his talented mouth, I couldn’t hold it back and I heard my moan as it escaped my lips.
His head tilted back, his face more beautiful suffused with want, especially his want of me, and he muttered, “Jesus, honey.”
“More,” I whispered again and suddenly we were up, Max’s hands at my bottom, my legs went around his hips, my arms went around his shoulders and he was striding to the stairs.
I couldn’t stop, didn’t have near enough of him, maybe I could never get enough. But I was going to try.
I bent my head and put my mouth to his neck, tasting it with my tongue, tugging his earlobe with my teeth.
Before I knew it we were by the bed, Max bent at the hips and the light went on.
“Drop your legs, Duchess,” he ordered and I did what I was told.
I no sooner got my feet on the floor then the drawstring was pulled on my pajama bottoms and they pooled at my ankles and then I was up again, only to be partially placed, partially tossed on the bed.
I watched Max follow me down but he didn’t land on top of me, his hands slid up my inner thighs, spreading my legs and then his mouth was on me, over my panties.
I heard the low, rough noise escape my throat as his mouth moved on me then he muttered, “Fuckin’ soaked,” before his fingers shoved the material of my panties aside and his mouth was on me.
I bucked against his mouth and moaned, “Max.”
It was debatable whether his finger or his tongue was more gifted until his finger slid inside and his mouth covered my sweet spot and sucked deep. My whole body jolted at the sheer beauty of it and I knew a combination of the two was the best.
“Oh my God,” I breathed because it was coming and it was going to be beyond anything I’d ever experienced.
Then Max’s finger slid away and his mouth moved up an inch and he kissed me over my panties.
My head shot up and I cried in protest, “Max!”
His hands went to my armpits and he hauled me up and twisted me in the bed until my head hit the pillows and he came down on top of me.
“You stopped!” I accused.
“We’re comin’ together this time, baby,” he said against my mouth and then kissed me, his tongue sliding inside and this time I tasted me on Max and it was so appealing, me mingled with Max, I forgot to be angry that he left me hanging and I kissed him back.
He rolled to my side, his finger hooking in my underwear, tugging it down and I pedaled my feet to kick them off. They no sooner left my ankles then Max’s arms came around me and he rolled to his back, taking me with him and I pulled up, straddling him and my hands instantly went to his jeans. His hand went to the nightstand. I unbuttoned. He pulled open the drawer.
I slid down his thighs and bent low, touching my lips to the flat, taut skin over the waistband at his fly as I kept unbuttoning. His hand came to my hair. I got the buttons undone and yanked the jeans partly down his hips and saw my first glimpse of the true meaning of Wonder Max.
He was beautiful all over.
My hand wrapped around him for half a happy second when I was pulled up, rolled over and Max was on me.
“You keep stopping me in the middle of the good stuff,” I snapped, my hands sliding down his back, one going in his jeans and over his bottom and it was soft (his skin) and tight (his muscle) and I immediately decided I loved it.