Max held up his hands. “Okay. Okay,” he deadpanned. “I suppose I can manage that.” He laughed when she shoved him playfully, before lowering his voice and staring at the space between her legs. “I guess I’ll just have to let you ride my cock.”
She licked her lips. “Do you have . . . something?”
“In my wallet.” Max motioned toward his shorts and watched as Grace leaned over him to grab them. Unable to help himself, Max sat up and, holding her by her thighs, nibbled his way across her ass cheeks.
Grace startled. “What the—?”
“Fuck, your ass is insane,” he moaned, licking and biting gently.
“You’re insane,” she teased lightly, shooing him away and sitting back up. She held the foil packet out to Max and watched as he tore it open. She noticed his pointed look as he held the latex above his cock. “I’m fine,” she murmured, her face soft and gorgeous, the determination faltering ever so slightly. “I want to at least try.”
Max exhaled. “We stop immediately if you’re not happy doing this, you got me?” Her gaze stayed on his hands as he rolled on the condom. “You’re in charge. We go as fast or as slow as you want.”
She nodded and moved toward him, straddling his thighs, and fingering his balls as if she’d never seen a pair before. Not that Max minded. Christ, if she kept going they’d have no need to go any further. He’d bust a nut right then.
“Gracie,” he whispered.
“I love it when you call me that.” She glanced up at him through her lashes. “Can you . . . can you help me—”
“Whatever you need,” he preempted, holding a hand out, which she took. He squeezed her fingers between his as she lifted and wrapped her other hand around his cock, guiding him to her. Max’s chest burned as he held his breath, watching. The tip of him swiped over her gently, pulling a husky moan from them both. Their eyes met and Max’s breath shook from him.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, and lifted his hips ever so slightly, pushing against where he was desperate to be.
“I know.” Grace lifted her face toward the ceiling, eyes closed, bottom lip between her teeth as she released his cock and allowed her weight to pull her down onto it. Max groaned, watching himself disappear into her, her body enveloping every inch of him, gripping him so fucking tightly he could barely stand it. Fuck, how long had it been? She sat on him, quiet and breathing steadily, adjusting herself with minute shifts of her hips that shot blazing heat through every inch of Max’s body.
“Jesus,” he managed through gritted teeth, his eyebrows meeting above his nose as he grimaced. “Are you okay?”
“Mmhm,” she hummed in response. “Max, it . . . you feel amazing.”
Max clenched his eyes shut, gripping her with one hand and the bedsheets with the other. “Move,” he pleaded. “For the love of God, please move.”
Max felt her body trembling above him before she slowly moved her hips in a way that lifted her from him. He grunted when he saw the light from the window glint off the wetness Grace’s body had left on the condom. She didn’t lift too far before she dropped back down, patient and, Max had to admit, insanely hot. Her body embraced his, squeezing him as though it was fucking delighted to have him there. She gasped when he tilted his hips at the same time she sank down, pushing even farther into her.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his brow breaking out in a sweat with the effort it took not to slam up faster. “You feel so good.”
“Yes,” she gasped. “God. I’d forgotten, I— Oh, you fill me.”
“Fuck, Gracie,” Max replied, gritting his teeth at the same time he thrust gently. “Keep going.”
Max breathed deeply out his nose as she found her rhythm, rotating her hips, lifting and dropping. She fucked him slowly, but Max couldn’t have cared less. Watching her take her pleasure from him was more than enough to have his orgasm gripping his stomach and tightening his thighs. She released his hand and placed her palms on his chest, pushing against him as she increased her speed. Max’s grip immediately found her hips. Their eyes met for a split second, his seeking out her permission to hold her that way. She smiled her consent—she was fine, her gaze whispered—and groaned when the slap of their flesh meeting echoed around the room.
He pressed his head back into the pillow, elongating his neck, closing his eyes, and allowed his body to accept the pleasure Grace was conjuring from him. “Tell me you’ve thought about this,” he grunted.
“Yes,” she answered. “So much.”
“Tell me,” he repeated, arching his back as she dropped onto him again. “How?”
“At the cottage on the tree trunk, at the bar where people can hear us, see us.”
“Fuck yes,” Max replied, heat flashing through him at the mere thought of people hearing her scream his name.
“In the shower,” she continued, moving faster. “In my kitchen on the countertop, on my sofa, against the window so everyone can see what you do to me. In your truck while you drive.”
“Goddamn,” Max gasped, struck dumb by the words leaving Grace’s panting, wet mouth. Her fingernails pinched his stomach, ripping a moan from his chest and sending his hips up quickly.