Page 130 of Dr. Bad Boy

I’m shuddering and gasping for air as he snakes his arm around my hip—and finds my clit so hard I try to jump at the contact.

I can’t, of course. I’m impaled on an erection I was begging for like a fool. But oh, that feels good when he touches my folds. My brain stammers back to life and I realize he’s whispering in my ear.

How good I feel.

How wet I am.

And I am, oh, I’m so wet for him. Slowly I relax in his arms and against the tile wall.

“Ready?” he asks, and that’s a stupid question.

Nobody could ever possibly be ready for this. But I nod. I want this. I want more.

He holds my hips as he eases out a few inches, then thrusts back in, and that’s better now that I’m adjusted to his girth, and with each pull and then push, I feel a corresponding pulse inside my pussy.

A tightening, like I could actually come like this.

When he reaches forward and rolls over my clit again, I know I can. “You do it, you naughty fucking troublemaker. You touch yourself and get yourself off on my cock.”

Fingers shaking, I shift my balance so I’m bracing against the wall with one arm, and I reach between my legs with my other hand.

The insides of my thighs are slick with my arousal. Holy fuck. I’m so slippery it’s hard to get a purchase on my clit, so I slide my fingers deeper, pulsing my fingertips into my clenching channel as I press the heel of my palm against my hard, desperate nub.

It just takes three slow circles of my hand to start a chain reaction climax that starts in my clit and spirals inside me in a shuddering, spectacular set of fireworks. Max rides it out until I’m done, then he pulls out, the first spurt of his come hitting the back of my leg, then he jerks himself against my ass, marking me with his release.

“Let me guess…” I say as I turn around and Max guides me under the hot shower spray again. “A week of detention?”

“At the very least. This is starting to look like a permanent behaviour problem I’m going to have follow personally.”

50

Max

“Ican’t believeit’s my first time flying in first class and I can’t guzzle the complementary champagne,” Violet whispers after taking a sip of the fresh-squeezed orange juice she got instead.

“Next time.” I glance past her and out the window. “Look, there it is!”

White sand beaches and thatched roof huts. Salty ocean air and zero distractions for four days.

“I can’t wait.” She sighs and gives me a happy smile.

“I can’t wait to see you in that bikini.”

She touches her belly, and I cover her hand with mine.

“Don’t even think it. You’re gorgeous, just the way you are. And that’s the last pregnancy worry I want to hear this weekend unless something’s wrong.” I cover her mouth with mine. She can’t protest if she’s being seduced.

With a surrendering sound, she kisses me back, and that’s the end of that.

We’re whisked from the airport to an exclusive resort on the far side of the island where our meals are brought to our private villa and we’re promised we won’t see another soul until we’re ready to leave again.

We hit the beach right away, and stay there until dinner, which we eat on the verandah, watching the sun set.

I’ve brought a bag full of kink to occupy our evenings, and when we go inside, I uncoil a length of rope.

Violet doesn’t miss a beat. We don’t have an ottoman, but she presents in the middle of the bed and it’s perfect. I torture her for hours, and we sleep in late the next morning.

For once, she’s up before me, and I only wake as she slips out of bed.

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