“You’re being an ass again, Max. I’m fine; I’m just worried we’re tempting fate staying here too long. You asked me to go with you, and I’m going,” I huff.
“We’ll be fine. Marcum and the boys have the place locked down. You just remember to do what I told you and don’t contact anyone from your old life. That would do more harm than anything. They need to believe you are still being held hostage and that we are long gone.”
“I haven’t. I told you I wouldn’t. Jesus, you’re strung tight today,” I grumble, pushing my arms against his hold. It’s useless; he’s not letting go. Like everything with Max, it will happen when he wants it too.
“That’s because I bought you something today, and I can’t wait to get you home,” he growls, bending down and biting on the right side of my neck. The sting of pain is quickly followed by the sweet kiss he leaves, his tongue teasing the skin. I can’t stop the way my hips rotate towards him. Max has turned me wanton. A woman who craves his constant touch and attention. It’s been constant sex since that day on the beach. I’m not complaining, I’ve come to love the way my body aches from being well used and satisfied. Still, it makes me wonder if he thinks our time is limited too. Is he trying to store all the memories he can, up like I am? Is it even that important to him? Am I? Or am I just…available? Or hell, even gullible. I’m so out of my depth most of the time with him. “Aren’t you going to ask what it is?” he asks, interrupting my thoughts—thankfully.
“What did you get me?” I ask, tilting my head to give him even more access to my neck. His tongue runs slowly up to my ear and then swirls along the shell. He bites into my lobe, and when he hears my moan, I can almost feel his lips spread into a smile.
“A little something to get you ready,” he says cryptically.
“Get me ready?” I gasp when his hand reaches under my shirt, and he palms my bare breast, kneading it his strong hand—the callused skin teasing my straining nipples.
“Yeah, Kitten, I’m going to fuck that ass of yours soon. I want to make sure you’re ready for me when I do.”
His husky answer sends shivers of awareness down my spine, and the moisture between my legs should be shameful, but it’s not. My reaction to Max is beautiful, beyond anything I ever experienced before and ever dreamed I could.
“Max either fuck me or quit torturing me,” I cry, squirming now has he has my nipple captured between his thumb and forefinger, tormenting it and making my knees go weak.
“Does my little Kitten need to be fucked?”
“Are you going to talk about it or just give it to me?” I growl when I fail, yet again, to get my hands away from his hold.
“I can’t give you my dick, baby. I’m out of raincoats, and we can’t let that happen again.”
“They’re condoms, Max, and I hate them,” I try to sound hateful, because I do indeed hate them, but his hand, picks that moment to slide down my stomach, pushing my skirt and panties low on my hip, so his hand has free reign to my pussy.
“Fuck! You’re soaked,” he growls, as his fingers dip inside of me, moving, through the cream he encounters, and raking the sensitive skin in one delicious, smooth glide. He thrusts his fingers inside while the palm of his hand rubs against my clit.
“Max, hurry….anyone could come in,” I whisper, riding his hand and getting more and more desperate to come.
“Let them. I don’t care if they all see me fuck my woman. Because you are, aren’t you, Tess? You belong to me. Don’t you?”
“Oh, God, Max, don’t stop. Please…Oh fuck…please…”
“Please what? Say it, Kitten. Say it.”
“Play with my clit. Make me come, Max. Oh God, make me come.”
“There’s my good girl,” he purrs, manipulating my clit like only he can. He’s right. I belong to him. I’m his. “When I get you home, where I have the supplies, I’ll give you my dick. I’ll bend you over the kitchen table and fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk afterwards.”
“Max…” I call out, oblivious to where we are now, needing only for Max to keep working his magic.
“Then, after you come all over my cock, I’m going to tie you to the bed and torture you for hours with all the pretty toys I bought you today. Hours, Tess. Hours, doing nothing but making you come over and over.”
“Oh, Jesus…” I cry, picturing him doing just that and the image is enough to send me to the edge. “Max! I’m going to come!”
“Not until I tell you, Tess,” he says, the beard he’s been growing tickling the inside of my neck as he continues his biting. I’ll have bruises there when we’re done. He loves marking me. Hell, I love it too.
“Damn it, Max, please. Oh god, honey, I need to come.”