Page 63 of Risk It All
I lift my head and press both my palms to his cheeks so he'll look at me. “I love you, Max. I think I have since the moment you called me judgmental, bitter, and cowardly.”
“Ah, Madeleine.” He pulls me in, shutting the door, and pressing me against it. He nestles his head in the curve of my shoulder and neck. I imagine he feels like I do, relief and the first bit of healing.
“You know, I wouldn't mind hearing it again myself,” I say.
He lifts his head to look at me. His eyes are piercing but filled with emotion as his thumb brushes across my cheek. “I love you, Madeleine. I love you so damn much it hurts.”
Then his lips crush down on mine, bruisingly forceful, but I don't care, because he's kissing me. My fingers cling to his shirt, wanting him closer, closer. Needing him to fill the hole in my heart that I'd created out of fear. “Hold me.”
“I'm here, sweetheart.”
“Don't let go.”
“Never.”
I need more. So much more. I need to be sure. To know for certain that we're whole again. “Touch me, Max. I love how you touch me.”
He doesn't disappoint. His hands skim over my shoulders, down my arms, and entwine with my fingers. In a single move, Max lifts my hands, trapping them above my head and pressing his body into mine. I moan even before his lips take mine again in a rush.
So hot. My senses shoot into overload. He tastes wonderful and I savor his masterful tongue as it laps and swoops and nips and then drinks.
I kiss him back, hard, seeking to give as much as I'm taking. I want him to know, with absolute certainty, that I want him and won't ever hurt him again.
I want to touch him, to rip his shirt open and caress the hardness of his chest. But he keeps my hands pinned against the door above my head.
His lips trail off, nipping and kissing my jaw, my neck. He focuses on my collarbone, an area I never knew could be so erotic. I feel it deep in my core.
“Let me touch you.” I try to free myself from his grip.
His lips travel over the swell of my breasts, still covered by the bodice of my summer dress, and I forget everything but exquisite sensations. He holds both my hands with one of his while his free hand slips behind me to unzip my dress. Then releasing my hands, he pushes the straps down, the dress falling to the floor in a pool around my ankles. I arch to him, begging him to touch me. He releases the clasp on my bra, yanking it off my arms before pinning them back over my head. He leans back slightly, his gaze raking over me to take in his handiwork. I stand before him, my arms trapped above my head in nothing but underwear and strappy heels. The flash of heat and desire in his eyes tells me he likes what he sees.
“You're so beautiful.”
My body hurts with need.Don't talkis all I can think.Just touch. His lips resume a path along the top of my breasts. My chest heaves and a slow moan escapes me when he rolls my hard nipple between his lips and then sucks, taking my breast fully into his mouth. I jerk as his mouth takes me up a notch.
His hand skims my thigh, moving inward, pushing the minimal barrier of my panties aside to find my heat. I moaned again as my body seeks his touch. But it’s more than his touch I need. I need his love. I need to connect with him body to body, soul to soul.
