Page 47 of Risk It All
Chapter Sixteen
Madeleine
Ifeel drugged. In a good way. My body is floating, but that's okay, because Max is holding me, grounding me. As soon as feeling returns to my arms, I hold him back.
“That's some cherry pie,” he says.
I laugh, pressing my head to his chest, blushing. He shifts slightly and that's when I realize that while I'm sated, he's not. I start to reach for him, and consider having my own cherry feast, but he wraps his arms around me, pulling me up with him as he moves to sit on the couch, maneuvering me to straddle his hips.
He looks up at me. Our gazes catch, and in that instant, it isn't sex games or lust driving us. Instead the world slows down, empties of everyone but us. I hold his gaze as I slowly sink over him. Even after the earth-shattering climax he's just given me, feeling him slide inside me ignites a new fire. Our eye contact breaks as pleasure spikes. My head drops back, savoring the feel of him inside me. His hands slide down, pulling me deeper over him and then he holds me there.
I lift my head to look into his stormy blue eyes. I wish we could stay like this forever. I want to be a part of him and him a part of me, not just physically, but emotionally as well. I push away the reality that this is it. In a day, maybe two, I'll be off to New York and he'll be heading to Los Angeles. Instead, I hold him, savoring the feel of him, hard, hot and pulsing with life inside me.
“Kiss me,” I say, wanting to complete the connection with him, even for just this one moment.
He complies, sliding his lips over mine in a slow, drugging kiss that I know I'll remember until my dying day. By slow degrees the kiss heats, moving from slow to passionate to urgent. As it does, I rock back and forth, slide up and down, forcing a groan from Max that echoes through the room. Together we move like two people who've been loving each other for years. He stiffens and I know he's close.
“Madeleine.” My name escapes his lips in a harsh breath. He leans forward, draws my breast into his mouth, sucking hard. I feel it straight to my center, and cry out as my world spins away in sweet agony. Max lets out an expletive as his own release rushes through him. Together we ride out the storm.
Later, once we make it to bed and make love again, I listen to the steady beat of Max's heart as he sleeps. It's not the first time I've lay in a man's arms, but it's the first time I've found such perfection in it. It's as if I fit with him, like a puzzle piece. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. Can I have finally found someone who understands me? Who'll support my nomadic lifestyle? Who'll love me for me?
The prospect both thrills and terrifies me. He could bring me the love and joy I crave in a relationship with a man, but also, he could hurt me, like no other man has. Even more than Chase.
I don't want to think of that now. Instead, I wonder what ideas and plans he's considering to help the children in Nigeria. The thought makes me think about my own work. I have a busy next few months ahead of me with places to go, people to see, and articles to write. Wanting to wrap my brain around my schedule, I slip from bed. I go to the living area, pull my notebook from my pack, and sit at the table. I turn on the light, wincing at its brightness.
I refer to the mini calendar I've taped to the inside cover of my notebook, and cringe when I see how full it is. The next ten weeks are packed with a wildlife conservation conference in Florida, a month-long research trip to Mexico, my father's birthday in Virginia, and meetings back in New York regarding a possible trip to Tibet. I study the schedule, trying to see what I can reschedule, but come up with zero. The conference can't be changed, and I've already rescheduled the trip to Mexico and the meeting regarding the trip to Tibet so I could take Max to Nigeria.
“Can't sleep?”
I look up to see Max leaning against the bedroom door frame. He hasn't bothered to cover up, and the sight of his lean, hard body and the memory of what it can do to me heats my blood.
“Just checking on some work things.”
He pushes away from the door frame and make his way to me. I stand as he approaches, more eager than I should be to feel his arms around me.
“Need some inspiration?” he whispers in my ear.
“I wouldn't mind a little inspiration.”
His body presses against mine, pushing me until the back of my thighs hit the table.
“How about here?” He steps between my legs, running his hands over my thighs, under my robe to my hips.
“Here's good.”
He lifts and set me on the table. Once I'm settled, his hands continue their journey up, effectively opening my robe, until he pushes it off my shoulders. His lips trail down my neck, over my shoulder, as his hands slide over my breasts. I gasp when his nimble fingers knead my sensitive tips.
But I don't want to be a passive participant. I reach for him, finding his hard length pressing against my thigh. For a minute, I think he's going to deny me again, but instead, he shifts, allowing me better access to him. I wrap my hand around him, smiling when he hisses. I brush my thumb over the velvety tip and under, around the rim.
A low groan rumbles through his chest. “Ah, Madeleine.”
I look up into his blue eyes, clouded with desire. The intensity of them takes my breath away.
“Max.”
His hands move up to cradle my face as he captures my lips, kissing me deeper and deeper. His kiss, thorough, yet intense, makes me forget my own desire to touch him for a moment. He pulses in my hand, reminding me that I want to give as much I get. I slide my hand up, down, mimicking his kiss.
He groans again. “Now, Madeleine.” With one hand he helps me lean back, while his other slides under my thigh, lifts it, opens me to him.
