Her taste was fucking exquisite, creamy, and sour in all the right ways. Max hummed against her swollen clit and lathered every inch of her with his mouth. Grace writhed and moaned loudly. His rapid and willing tongue finally disappeared inside her, becoming a part of her, pulsing into her tightness with every surge and dip of her hips.
Shit, she smelled fantastic, too; the subtle hint of cocoa butter, along with the scent of her when they ran, set him alight. A deep sound from her throat came again when Max kissed her skin, letting his eager tongue and lips glide over her. He teased her clit between his lips, gently grazing her with his teeth, causing her to call out.
While his mouth tasted, his hands moved slowly across her stomach to the hips that were moving in figures of eight, driving him fucking insane. He gripped them gently and pushed his mouth firmly against her. An exquisite groan escaped her, forcing Max to do it again. He opened his eyes to see that her head had fallen back, her black hair spilling down her back, tickling his stomach when he breathed in. Max brought his hand up and stroked Grace’s neck, feeling the thrum of her pulse under his gentle fingertips. She panted his name, spurring his tongue on until she was riding his face just as he’d hoped, thrusting and shuddering above him.
Grace’s hand appeared suddenly, grabbing his hair and pushing his face harder against her. The fact that she wanted him this way, that she was enjoying it and wanted more, made Max’s cock twitch between his legs.
Jesus.
“I’m— Oh, God!”
Fuck, Max had almost forgotten what it was like to hear a woman beg, plead, come on him, because of him. He sucked and licked, dipping his tongue into her again, softly at first, gauging her reaction, before he pushed it harder, feeling her body give to him, open up to him, welcome him with open fucking arms. His own body pulsed and wept as he feasted, his pulse thundered in his ears, and, when Grace began to cry out, he wished to all hell that he could see her face clearly as she came.
“I can’t—it’s . . . Yes, oh. Yes!” she chanted, bucking and crying out as she exploded on his lips.
He pushed his face farther into her, crying out for more of the wetness that drenched his mouth and chin. She laced her fingers together at the back of his head and held him to her body.
“Fuck,” he mumbled into her flesh, while his eyes rolled back into his skull.
As the pulse of her orgasm resonated through his tongue, he lapped up everything she gave. It was fucking glorious. The aroma of her and the feel of her sopping skin was almost enough for Max to lose his damned mind. Grace panted and cursed softly until, unable to take any more, she moved back off his face, now slick with her orgasm, and slid, somewhat awkwardly, to her side of the bed.
Max blew out a long breath, licked his lips, and wiped the back of his hand across his face. Her smell was all around him and he allowed himself a couple of quiet heavy-breathing-filled moments to bask in it. His cock thrummed and jerked, aching for relief, but Max resisted touching, waiting for Grace to say or do something. He looked over to see her face covered in her hair. The parts of her that he could see through it showed a serene smile, which pulled his mouth into one of its own.
“You all right?” he asked quietly.
She nodded, still smiling.
“You coherent?” She shook her head, making Max laugh. “Then my work here is done.”
When she neither moved nor spoke, he lifted his upper body from the bed and reached for his clothes and underwear, which were stuffed between the pillows he’d thrown. Once again, he was stopped by Grace’s hand on his arm.
“Where you going?” she asked, her voice sexily hoarse from her cries despite her expression, which, once she’d brushed back her hair, Max could only describe as confused and maybe a little hurt.
“Hey, I’m not running out on you.” He glanced down at himself. “I was, um, going to clean up, then head home to take care of this.” He waved a hand at his twitching crotch. He smiled. “I just thought you’d want to—”
“I want to make you come, Max. I want to try what you said, you know— Can I?”
Well, couldn’t he just leap with joy hearing those fucking words?
“But . . .” Max cleared his throat, lying back. “Not that I’m not fucking ecstatic by the mere idea of you being my own personal cowgirl, but are you sure?”
Grace cocked an unimpressed eyebrow and pursed her lips. “Max, you just gave me the first orgasm I’ve had with another person in the room in a very long time. You’ve helped me get over the hurdle of years of self-consciousness and fear by”—she looked at his mouth, her eyes dilating further—“doing that amazing thing with your tongue. I mean, how the hell did you do that with the . . . you know, the way you . . .”
Pride rushed through him at the thought of his truly making her feel good and finding her just about the most adorable thing ever.
She gathered herself, taking a deep breath. “Please, Max. I want to repay the favor. Will you let me?”