Chapter Fourteen
Manning Up
“Tell me,” Max growled against my lips as his hands at my hips ground me down on his cock.
“Darling,” I whispered, not knowing what he wanted me to tell him but willing to tell him whatever he wanted to hear because I was so very, very close.
“Tell me, baby,” he ordered, still growling, letting me move up then using his hands to slam me back down.
It was morning, Max woke with his hands then his mouth and now I was riding him but he was sitting up, my hands were in his hair, my head tipped down, my lips on his and nothing was in my head but the beauty of the sensations gathering between my legs.
“What, Max,” I breathed. “What do you want?”
“Tell me you love me.”
My closed eyes flew open and my fingers clenched in his hair. His eyes were open too and they were heated, hungry and intense.
“Max,” I whispered.
“Tell me, baby, before you come.”
“Max –” I moved faster, riding him harder, I was urged by the sensations at the same time he demanded it with his strong hands.
“You love me,” he stated.
Oh God, it was happening, all of it, everything.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Say it,” he ordered.
He held my eyes and I said it. “I love you, Max.”
His arms swept around me, holding me tight and I watched his eyes get more heated, hungrier and so intense it felt like they were burning into mine.
“Come for me, baby,” he demanded.
“Anything, darling,” I breathed and then it hit me, my head flew back and I gladly did as I was told.
*
I wandered out of the bathroom, my eyes on Max, his eyes on me. When I got close to his side of the bed, he whisked the covers back, exposing the fullness of all things Wonder Max and my soul sighed. Then I put a knee to the bed and straddled him in preparation for moving over him but he caught my hips and stayed my movement, pulling me down to him.
I didn’t mind therefore I settled in, forehead to his neck, torso pressed to his, knees to his sides and his fingers started to move randomly on the skin of my back and behind.
I lay there surrounded by everything Max, his body, his arms, his bed, his home thinking that I’d told him I loved him. I’d known him two weeks and I told him I loved him.
He’d demanded I say it, of course. And it was true, of course. And he should know, obviously. And I wanted him to know.
That still didn’t mean I wasn’t freaking out because he should know and I wanted him to know but I wasn’t sure I should have told him now.
“You know, I do too,” I heard his gravelly voice rumble quietly.
“What?” I asked his throat.
He didn’t answer and when his silence lasted a long time, I lifted my head and looked down at his face to see he looked sated and serious.
“What do I know?” I queried.
His fingers stopped their roaming, one arm locked around my waist, the other hand slid up my spine and into my hair.
His amazing gray eyes didn’t leave mine when he answered gently, “I do too. I said it the other day and I meant it.” His fingers tensed against my scalp. “I’m in love with you, Duchess.”
I stared at him feeling the tears welling in my eyes because the feelings surging through my system were too much for them not to leak out somehow.
“Really?” I whispered as one tear escaped and slid down the skin of my cheek as Max’s eyes watched it mark its path.
Then his hand moved out of my hair to cup my jaw, his thumb sweeping my cheek to dry my tear. Then his warm, sweet gaze came back to mine.
“Really,” he whispered back.
I felt another tear escape and then I bent my head and touched my mouth to his. When our lips connected, Max’s head slanted, his fingers sifted back into my hair to tilt my head the other way and he rolled so he was on top. Through this, his lips didn’t touch mine, they fused with mine, kissing me hard, long, deep, wet and lastly, but most importantly, beautiful.
His kiss was a promise and it was a gift, both the best I’d ever received.
When he lifted his head he cupped my face with his hand and his thumb traced circles at my temple.
“Are we crazy?” I asked him.
“What?” he asked back, lips twitching.
“Are we crazy? Is this crazy? We barely know each other.”
All amusement left his face when his eyes locked on mine and he said, “Love isn’t sane, darlin’.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted softly. “You’re my first.”
I watched with no small amount of fascination as his eyes grew dark and again intense and heated, before he growled, “Thank fuck.”
Then he was kissing me again, his mouth and tongue working wonders, his hands roaming, my legs circled his hips, my fingers moved on the skin and muscle of his back and I liked it all so much, I barely heard the phone ring.
But Max’s head came up when we both heard Harry’s voice fill the loft.