My eyes lift to his, searching back and forth and wishing I could say what I need to say without uttering a sound. “Don’t ask me what I was doing or if I’m okay because you’re not going to like the answer.”
Max’s chest heaves as he holds my gaze, taking a step toward me, clenching his jaw with each excruciating second that passes. “Tell me anyway.” His voice is soft compared to the hard lines of his furrowed brow.
A crack of thunder shakes the roof over our heads, and I expel a deep breath, feeling the last shred of my dignity leave the tiny house to be swept away by the storm. On an exhale, I give in and groan, “I was pleasuring myself, okay?” He stares at me without a word, making me angry that I had to confess at all when the evidence of what I was doing is sitting on the counter. My voice grows louder with my irritation. “Are you happy? Have you succeeded finally at discovering one of my secrets? Do you feel superior now knowing that you drive not only my mind wild but also my libido?” I’m practically shrieking at him as his eyes storm with something I can only assume is repulsion. “Does it make you feel like—”
“Enough,” Max growls, cutting me off as he reaches out to grip the back of my neck and haul me against him.
My startled gasp is engulfed as he crushes his lips to mine and thrusts his tongue deep into my more than accepting mouth. It’s a “zero fucks given” kind of kiss. No gentle coaxing, no tantalizing sample. It’s the kind where you don’t know where your mouth starts and his begins.
His fingers dig into my flesh as if I’d try to get away. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, practically crawling up his damp body as he folds himself over me, making me cry into the kiss as the sensations overwhelm me in the best way.
The texture of his damp shirt against my breasts chafes against my hardened nipples as he squeezes me to him. He makes a guttural noise as he sucks on my lower lip before plunging his tongue back into my mouth.
I faintly consider pushing him away. I’m kissing my boss. He’s a corporate-greed asshole whose child I care for five days a week. This is not a good idea!
But my traitorous pelvis has other ideas as it grinds into him like his dick is a magnet and I’m made of fucking metal.
Oh, my God, he’s hard.
He’s hard because of me?
A rush of heat spreads through my center as his hard cock presses so close to where I need him.
My hands slide up around his neck, scoring over the planes of his muscles while his tongue continues to claim me, his head turning from side to side like he can’t decide which angle he likes better. An image of his cock fucking my throat hits me, and my hands slide from his neck to his arms, my fingers digging into the muscly firmness of him and wanting so much more than a kiss.
His grip skates down to my back to palm my ass as he twirls me until my back hits the ladder that’s secured to the floor above. He hooks one of my legs on his hip and presses his cock into my center. The hard ridge of him thrusting forward as I brace myself on the wood, gasping for air before he finally breaks our kiss.
“Christ, do you have any idea what you do to me?” he pants as if in pain while staring down at my breasts. His hands scale up my ribs to cup the sides of them. He presses inward and forms a long line of cleavage very nearly causing my nipples to pop out of my nightie. He dips his head to press hot, open-mouthed kisses on my chest, running his tongue down the fall of them all the way to the very edge of my nipple but never actually getting to the good part. He murmurs reverently, “I could get lost in these.”
Whimpering, I release the ladder and score my fingers through his damp hair, tugging softly at the longer strands on top. The musky smell of his cologne, the rain, and the arousal pooling between my legs is enough to have me fall apart with just a little tongue play.
He returns to my lips, sealing our mouths together once again as his hand that was holding my leg moves to graze my inner thigh.
“Max,” I moan as my head falls back in total ecstasy.
“Were you thinking of me with that vibrator?” he asks, his voice a growly, sexy rumble that I want to feel on my center as he dances his fingers along my flesh. My skin feels like it’s going to burst into flames.
I squirm with need and rest my head against a ladder step, my chest heaving under the clinging satin. The sinful look in Max’s eyes is something I need to imprint in my brain right now.
“Maybe,” I offer, my voice breathy.
The corner of his mouth twitches, causing another onslaught of butterflies to take flight in my belly. He likes when I think of him?
“I was thinking of you earlier…in my shower.” He leans down and sucks harshly on my breast, causing me to yelp in pain. He pulls back and stares down at the red welt already forming. His eyes look electrified as he gazes back at me. “I stroked my cock and pictured your tits covered in my cum.”
This has to be a dream. I am going to wake up any second and curse Mercedes Lee Loveletter for writing such descriptive books that have turned my imaginations into hallucinations. Seriously, do they make medication for this?
His fingers finally slide upward to brush my bare center, and I cry out, bracing myself on his sculpted pecs that most definitely do not feel like pound cake. They feel like rocks. Hard as stone boulders rivaling his impressive cock that’s going to rip through those cotton pants any second.
He sinks a long, delicious finger inside me and groans, “Soaked.” He drops his forehead to my chest and rolls his face against my cleavage. “Are you soaked for me, Cassandra?”
“Yes,” I cry out as he thrusts into me once again, his thumb scraping over my sensitive bundle of nerves. “All for you.”
He pulls back and bites his lip, looking down at my face as he pumps his fingers in and out of me, watching me fall apart with every thrust.
“Max,” I whimper, unable to look away from the desire in his eyes. I can’t believe I’m about to say this but, “I’m going to—”
“Come for me, Cassandra,” he commands, his voice powerful and everything I want at that moment. “Come on my fucking hand right now.”