chapter seventeen
Lily
I LOVE THE WAY he touches me. His insistent fingers help me forget who I am, what I’ve done, what a failure I’ve become. I don’t worry about anything else when I see his eyes lock on me. All I can focus on is him. How fast can I get him alone, how quickly can I get him to put his hands on me …
After what happened yesterday, I let the anger and the disappointment consume me. He hurt me and I held on to it. But I also knew that I was just as much a liar as he was. Who am I to judge, to hate him, when he should hate me, too? I was lucky enough that I didn’t get caught.
Yet.
Even though I told myself I wouldn’t search him out, I did anyway. I hid from him, scared he would find me, even more scared that he wouldn’t, and finally I gave in to my urges. It’s like I can’t stay away from him and that’s okay. I can own up to my feelings for Max. I decided to be honest with him. Real.
And he liked it. I could tell by his body language, by the huskiness of his voice. I get near him and the air changes between us. Becomes charged with an energy I can’t deny. One I don’t want to deny. My need to tell him I want him overcame any of my fears or insecurities.
He makes me feel greedy. And I’m pretty sure he feels the same.
My ass still aches from the way he spanked me, my flesh searing hot. I like it. I want more. His big hands roam my body, the slope of my back, the curve of my ass. His touch is gentle but insistent, commanding yet reverent. He’s still got his clothes on and I’m completely naked, the sun shining on my skin. Anyone could pass us by on the beach, none of the beaches are private in the state of Hawaii, but access to this particular stretch of sand is limited.
Not unattainable, though. Knowing someone could walk along and see me like this, the two of us together …
Excites me.
“Dripping wet, princess,” Max practically growls as he sinks his fingers inside me and pumps them once, twice. I close my eyes and grip the frame of the lounger, still on my hands and knees, Max sitting right behind me. “I know you’ll taste damn good, too. I’ve been craving your pussy since the last time I saw you.”
I glance at him over my shoulder to see the tips of his fingers disappear in his mouth as he sucks them and a shuddery sigh moves through me, making my entire body sway. He’s taken off his sunglasses, letting me see that handsome face clearly, those beautiful eyes full of heat and want.
All aimed directly at me.
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” he asks.
Pressing my lips together, I nod, scared to say anything for fear I’ll sound like a babbling idiot. Unsure that I’ll even be able to put together words. Or worse, that I’ll say something I’ll regret. I feel unhinged, raw and painfully aroused, my skin so tight I’m afraid I might shatter if he so much as touches me.
And I definitely want him to touch me. I’m dying for it.
“From behind?” He runs a hand over my butt, his fingers sliding perilously close to my pussy. I angle toward him, ready for those fingers to go exactly where I need them, but he’s teasing me, his hand moving away.
“Please,” I beg, not recognizing my own voice. What’s come over me? I don’t even know myself in this moment. My body has been on fire since our stupid argument. I crave him, want him to do everything he did to me yesterday and the night before, plus more. Anything. I’m up for anything he wants. He stuck his fingers in my ass and that was something I swore I would never let any man do to me, and now I’m this close to begging Max to do it again.
He chuckles. Doesn’t seem to be affected by me whatsoever, which I find infuriating. But I’m too aroused to be anything else, let alone angry. Such a wasted energy. “However you can get me, princess?”
“Yes. Just …” I choke on my own words when he traces my pussy with his fingertips, his touch feather light. “Please. Fuck me.”
“Such a shame that you’re so impatient. Don’t you want to stretch this out, baby?” He says this conversationally, as if we’re talking about the weather. “Maybe I could just get you off first.”
Oh, God, no. I want his cock. I want to feel him stretch me, fill me. I want to get lost in the rhythm of our bodies, the drag of his cock deep inside me, thrusting again and again …
I want the closeness. The skin-to-skin contact, his eyes staring into mine. I want that to take home with me so I never, ever forget him.
“Come here.” He grabs hold of my hips and pulls me toward him. I go willingly, gasping when he flips me around as if I weigh nothing and settles my naked body in his lap, my legs automatically wrapping around his hips. “Lie back.”
I stretch back along the lounger, watching him from beneath heavy lids as I spread my legs wide, straddling either side of the chair. He moves away from me, his gaze locked on the spot between my thighs, parting his lips as he sucks in a harsh breath. My entire body is trembling, my exhales are coming in short bursts, and I curl my toes against the ground, needing release.
“You look like you’re dying for it, baby. Dying for me.”
I am. Oh God, I completely am. I’m reluctant to admit that I just don’t want to get off. I want him. “If you won’t touch me, I will,” I threaten.
His eyes darken and his jaw goes tight. He doesn’t like it when I try to wrestle control from him. Max much prefers to be in control.
So did I. Always with Max, I’ve let him take over. I’m tempted to see what he’ll do if I try and wrestle the control away from him.
“Do that and you’re in trouble,” he murmurs, his gaze, his voice, full of dark promise.
I feel like defying him. I want to know what he’ll do to me. What he’ll do for me. What sort of trouble does he mean? Nothing scares me. Nothing ever has. So his threats are meaningless.
Cupping my breasts with both hands, my gaze remains locked on his as I brush my nipples with my thumbs. “What kind of trouble are you talking about?”
His gaze tracks my every move. “The kind you should be afraid of.”
“You don’t scare me,” I taunt. Playing with my nipples only seems to hurt, so I release my grip on my breasts, let one hand trail down my quivering stomach. Everything I’m doing, feeling, wanting, centers right in the spot between my legs. My pussy aches. My clit pulses. And when I run my fingers over my slit, cupping myself, I want to scream out loud because it feels so good.
But I don’t. I remain quiet. In control. The heat of Max’s eyes on me sets me on fire, makes me burn, but I don’t stop. Not even when I see the anger flare deeper in his gaze, not when I note the way his hands clench into fists. He’s trying his best to remain in control, too, but he struggles.
Looks like I’m winning.
I tease my clit, search my folds, and I can hear how wet I am. Bringing my fingers to my mouth, I suck them, lick them, then settle them back between my legs, stroking in earnest now.
“Jesus,” I hear Max mutter and I smile, whimpering when I stroke against my swollen clit extra hard. My flesh is tingling, I’m already so close to coming, and it’s because Max is watching me. The orgasm hovers, tantalizing me right on the horizon’s edge, and I reach for it, closing my eyes, straining my hips, throwing back my head …
Strong fingers clamp around my wrist, stopping my ministrations dead in their tracks. “No fucking way are you going to come like that.”
My eyes fly open and I glare at Max, my hand useless, wiggling directly over my body as he holds my wrist tight. “Let go.”
The smile that stretches across Max’s face is almost feral. He doesn’t look happy. Nor does he appear pleased. He’s … pissed. Furious at me for defying him, and the secret thrill that races down my spine makes me shiver.
“No.” He tugs on my wrist, making me sit up so his face is in mine. “I told you not to touch yourself and you did it anyway.”
“What are you going to do to me?” I’m breathless with anticipation, my entire body on edge waiting to hear what he has to say.
His smile softens, causing his eyes to crinkle, and my breath leaves me for another reason. He’s so handsome, so big and masculine yet rough around the edges. Stubble lines his cheeks and I have the sudden memory of those rough cheeks rubbing against my thighs … my pussy … driving me wild.
“What do you want me to do to you?” He brings my hand up to his face and inhales. “Fuck, you smell amazing.”
My entire body goes weak at his words. “Make me come so many times I pass out?” I ask hopefully.
He chuckles. “That doesn’t sound like punishment.”
“Passing out is definitely not a good thing,” I tell him, licking my lips, mimicking the way he’s licking my fingers. Tasting me. Oh God, this man is wicked.
“Passing out from too many orgasms is a fucking awesome thing.” He shakes his head. “I’m not going to tell you what I’m going to do to you.”
I frown. “You’re not?”
“Nope.” His smile grows. “I’m going to show you. And you’re going to both love it and hate it.”
Wariness fills me, along with fear and excitement. “O-okay.”
“Now lean back again.” I start to but he gathers me, his hands on my ass, lifting me up so my pussy is directly in front of his mouth. “Watch this, baby girl,” he murmurs just before he licks me.
A little scream escapes and he lifts his head away, glaring at me. “Quiet,” he whispers, and I clamp my lips shut, closing my eyes when he licks me again. And stops.
“I said watch me,” he commands, and my eyes fly open, excited and scared to see what he does next.
What he does is drive me out of my mind with pleasure. Just as I’m about to come he pauses, pulls away, changes the motion, rains kisses on my inner thighs. He toys with my clit with just the tip of his tongue, nudging it, flicking it, drawing it between his lips for one long, good suck, and then he’s moving on. Kissing my belly, stroking my thighs.
Driving me fucking crazy.
“A bad girl like you doesn’t deserve to come,” he whispers against my pussy after about ten minutes of exquisite torture. “Greedy girls have to learn patience.”
“What …” I swallow hard, my throat dry, my pussy anything but. Max’s lips glisten and just the sight of that alone turns me on. I’m so worked up I’m afraid he’ll breathe on my clit and I’ll come. “What if I can’t stop myself from coming?”
His gaze glitters like perfect sapphires. “Then you’ll be in even more trouble.”
He means it. He’ll do something to me that I can’t even fathom. And this torture he’s putting me through now is beyond ridiculous. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Like I’m observing the both of us as he grips my ass with his large, flexing hands, my pussy an offering for him to feast on. His tongue touches every part of me, his lips, his teeth. I feel mindless, out of control, scared that I’ll come and he’ll hate me for it.
Excited that I’ll come and he’ll do something deliciously awful to me for disobeying him.
“You need to learn how to take orders, princess. Not give them,” he murmurs against my thigh as he kisses me there yet again. “Learn how to restrain yourself and do as I say.”
But it’s so hard. So incredibly hard. I’m dying to grab hold of his hair and tug him close, tell him exactly where to lick and suck. I’ve always taken charge with the other men in my life. It was all fun and games but ultimately, I was in control. They did what I said and I loved it.
Not this man. He won’t do anything that I say. He’s in command and I …
I love it. Hate it. Want more of it.
“You want to come?” he asks, sucking my clit between his lips before he lets it go.
I nod, not saying a word. Scared he’ll deny me if I say or do the wrong thing.
“I bet you’re going to convulse and cry out my name,” he says, his voice low. Hypnotic. He nuzzles my pussy with his nose, breathing deep, dropping sweet little kisses all over my flesh and making me shiver. “Maybe I should stick my fingers inside you so I can feel it when I finally let you come.”
God, whatever he needs or wants to do, I’d let him. Gladly.
“Not going to protest, princess? Did I finally break you?” I squint at him, batting away the anger that wants to surge, and he sees it. I can tell just by the change in his expression. But why do those words make me mad? Is it the way he said it? Or is it the word break? Everyone seems to want to break me, have a piece of me. I’m sick of it.
Can’t he just want me for me?
“You don’t want me to break you, do you?” he asks, shaking his head. “Well, too damn bad. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be an obedient little girl, just how I like it.”
I can’t stand the thought of him being with any other women, which is crazy. Why do I care? I’ve been with plenty of men—not something I’m proud of, but I can’t deny it since pretty much every guy I’ve been with is documented via social media. But you don’t hear me talk about them. Don’t hear me bragging about my many conquests.
God, I’m jealous. A completely foreign emotion I rarely feel, at least when it comes to men.
The breeze blows over me, cooling my heated flesh, and I close my eyes, popping them back open when Max’s hands squeeze my butt. “I bought more condoms,” he says.
I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
He leans in close as he pulls me even closer, until I’m tumbling back into his lap and his face is in mine. “You’re not mad at me, are you,” he murmurs just before he claims my mouth.
I open wide for him, our tongues thrusting, the unmistakable musky taste of my pussy making me even hotter. He has no shame, this man, and neither do I. He’s rough and a little mean and a lot sexy and I can’t get enough. There’s a connection between us I don’t want to fight. I like him. I want to spend more time with him, learn more about him.
The idea scares me.
His hands clamp around my waist and pull me down so I’m grinding my naked pussy on his clothed erection. He’s huge and hot, thick and long, and I rub against him shamelessly, whimpering into his mouth, increasing my pace.
“You getting off, baby?”
No need to answer because the orgasm hits me at full blast right at that very moment. I cry out, circling my arms around his neck as I cling to him, my hips working against his cock, loving the friction his swim trunks give me as I come all over him.
I can’t even care if I went against his rules. I’m limp in his arms, shivering and shaking, and he’s looking at me like he wants to both hug me close and shove me away.
“You disobeyed me,” he whispers, reaching out to trail his fingers across my cheek.
My eyes slide closed at his gentle touch and I tip my head back. My legs are wound tight around his waist and I bury my hands in his hair. “Sorry.” I don’t sound remorseful because I’m not. That was absolute torture and I needed the relief.
His other hand goes to my neck and he grips my nape, forcing me to face him once more. “It’s like you can’t help but be a bad girl.”
I smile, my heart aching at his words. “Haven’t you realized that’s what you’re dealing with? I am a bad girl. I do what I want, when I want. No one can tell me what to do.” Pausing, I let my gaze roam over his handsome features, seeing the familiar disappointment in his eyes. Typical. I make no one happy. “Not even you,” I add in the softest whisper.
He stares at me, his gaze unwavering. There’s no disappointment in his eyes; he doesn’t appear upset any longer. “Aren’t you tired of being alone? On your own? You against the world, always fighting, always struggling?”
I want to say no. It’s easier to pretend I’m tough and I don’t need anyone, definitely not a man trying to tell me what to do. But Max isn’t like that, not really. He treats me like an equal. That he enjoys taking command in the bedroom doesn’t bother me, not really.
I almost … prefer it.
“Yes,” I finally whisper, my throat raw with emotion. “It’s … hard, being alone.”
“I know.” He reaches out, drifts his fingers across my cheek. “I agree.”
Should I say something more? Tell him we don’t have to be alone as long as we have each other?
No, that’s too much. Too soon. He’ll freak. Or worse, make fun of me. Make a joke of it.
He would never do that and you know it.
“Let’s take a step back and calm down.” Max traces my jaw with his fingers, his thumb smoothing over my chin. “After all, we’ve got all night.”
There’s a finality to his statement that sends panic racing through my veins. All night isn’t enough. It would never be enough. But I can’t admit that.
So I don’t.