Nicole

 

I didn’t even remember falling sleep. I crashed on the bed and that was it, I was out. When I woke up, I felt a little guilty, though. It was clear Maxwell had spent most of the time sleeping in the chair near the bed. I felt a little warm feeling in the pit of my stomach at the thought. Was it sweet that he’d let me have the bed to myself?

 

I thought so.

 

He was stretching, his shirt lifting to give me a glimpse of those hard, carved muscles of his abdomen. Swallowing hard, I told him in a quiet voice, “I’m going to get in the shower. Did you need the bathroom first?”

 

He shook his head. “No, go ahead. I’m going to see if I can’t find some breakfast.”

 

I nodded, then he left. I watched him go and when the door closed behind him, I stripped out of my clothing. Turning the shower to a relatively hot setting, I stepped in and let the water wash away most of the tension that had been eating at my shoulders and muscles. By the time I got out I was clean, my hair was wet, and my skin was a little flushed.

 

Wrapping a towel around my body, I walked out of the bathroom to find my bag and some clothes. As soon as I entered the main portion of the room, I froze.

 

Maxwell stood there only a few feet from me. There was a bag of what looked to be pastries next to two cups of coffee sitting on the table beside him. His hair looked like he’d run his hands through it a dozen times and his eyes were a flashing, deep blue that looked like molten steel: too hot to handle.

 

My breath caught as I realized the only thing between us were a few feet and my towel—a flimsy, flimsy thing.

 

He must have thought the same thing, because he crossed the room in a couple of quick strides until he was standing in front of me. I opened my mouth to say something—I couldn’t be sure what—but his covered mine before a single word escaped, and then I was drowning. I must have moaned into his kiss as he tried to drink me in, his tongue sliding against mine, exploring my open mouth. I thought it was a kiss that might last forever, but he broke it, leaving me gasping for air.

 

His lips moved from my mouth, but didn’t leave my body. They went to my neck, sliding against the hollow of my throat, his tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake. I was so focused on that appendage that I almost didn’t notice his hands as they went to my waist. At least not until I felt one of them find the edge of the towel and slip beneath it to slide against bare skin. His hand felt rough, but warm, trailing over my navel and dipping lower.

 

And lower.

 

When I felt his fingers spreading my folds, I gasped and realized just how wet I already was. He continued to tongue and kiss my neck, a complimentary feeling to his fingers as they slipped between my lips to find my warm, wet opening. I gasped when those fingers entered me. They were so much thicker than my own and I whimpered at the feeling.

 

My hands trembled as they clutched weakly at the ends of the towel, that grip the only thing keeping my body from being completely exposed to him. I clutched at it until he added the second and then the third finger to my body. When I cried out and arched my back, my hands released the towel. It fell, baring my blushing flesh to his eyes and his hands.

 

His movements froze when that happened. Suddenly his fingers were gone, leaving me panting and delirious with desire. I focused on him, trying to figure out why he’d stopped. Then I saw his hands undoing his belt—his shirt was already gone—and unzipping his jeans.

 

My heart pounded against my chest, my breathing grew shallow, and somewhere in the rational part of my mind, I knew this was a mistake.

 

This, whatever it was, wouldn’t last. But when he shoved his pants down, revealing his long, hard cock jutting out from between his legs, I knew I wouldn’t stop him when he came to me. In fact, I was waiting with heightened anticipation for the moment when he would.

 

I didn’t have to wait long.

 

He came to me and grabbed me by the hips, lifting me up. Instinctually, my legs went to either side of him, wrapping around his trim, but solid waist. I felt the head of his member thump against me and instantly grew wetter. I couldn’t wait to have him inside me. He carried me to the bed and threw me down onto it, causing me to bounce as I fell to the bed spread eagle.

 

He came to me quickly, crawling on top of me, his hands going to my inner thighs to pull my legs farther apart. My breathing was heavy, desperate, and my core was already pulsing with need.

 

The wait, as short as it was, was killing me.

 

When he finally nestled himself between my long legs which were bent at the knee and held up in the air, I was all but whimpering in my need for him.

 

“Shhh, baby, I promise it’ll be good for you,” he told me in a voice that was hoarse with desire. It made me shiver.

 

His words were followed by the tip of his cock sliding against my moist lips. He moved it along the length of them twice before settling at my opening. I had the time for a single breath and then he was rammed so deep inside me that I cried out in the pain and pleasure of it. He gave me a moment to adjust to his considerable, pulsing size, his hands caressing and fondling the rest of my body as the pain melted away to pure pleasure. When he had me moaning again, he pulled out of my body only to thrust back in as hard as he could.

 

I cried out again, arching my back in an effort to push him deeper inside of me, though I didn’t think there was any room.

 

His hands found my breasts and began to play with them as he moved into a rhythm. He squeezed them and pinched the nipples as he pumped into my waiting pussy, his cock sliding into me easily thanks to my own arousal.

 

My hands touched whatever part of him they could: his hands, encouraging them on my breasts; his arms, squeezing the tight muscles; his stomach, sliding over those cut abs; every bit of him, all the while clinging to the sensation of his length buried deeper inside of me than any man had ever gone.

 

“Do you know how tight you are?” he grunted as he thrust into me. “How fucking wet?”

 

I groaned, his words causing the feelings he was triggering in me to heighten.

 

“Do you know how good it feels to have your pussy clamped down on my cock?”

 

“Oh, god!”

 

“That’s it,” he encouraged, wanting me to make more noise. “Moan for me, baby. Scream for me.”

 

And I did. I cried out in pleasure and begged for more and I called out his name in ecstasy. I’d never felt anything like this before in my life, the sex loud and powerful and hard enough to shake the bed.

 

He panted above me, gritting his teeth, his hands gripping my tits hard enough to almost be painful, but not quite. One hand left my breast to slide between our bodies. I wasn’t sure why until he began to rub my clit. I screamed in pleasure and begged for more, feeling my orgasm building tightly in my lower body until it was almost unbearable.

 

“I want you to come, baby,” he told me, grunting as he continued to thrust. “I want you to come around me.”

 

His words did it. They pushed me over the edge and I screamed as I came. I was aware enough to feel him pump twice more inside of me only to pull out at the last minute and spill across my stomach and chest.