chapter nine
Lily
HIS BIG, WARM HANDS roam all over my body and set my skin on fire everywhere he touches. I really like his hands. Those long, skilled fingers that are slightly callous and the wide palms—one of them alone can practically span the width of my ass and that’s kind of amazing.
He’s palming my ass now, rubbing it, slapping the side of one cheek and watching it jiggle. I jolt when he slaps it again, harder this time, and I mumble a shocked, “That hurts.”
I’ve had guys spank me before but I didn’t enjoy it. At all. More like, the spanking irritated me. It felt like they were trying to claim me as their own personal piece of property to do with whatever they wanted. Oh, I’d always put on a show for them, gasping and squealing and acting like it turned me on.
It never turned me on. But the way Max is touching me, smoothing his palm over my stinging flesh just before he slaps it again, well …
I’m aroused. Wet. I lift up on my knees a little bit, pushing my ass into his hand—again—and he takes the hint, slapping it so hard the sound reverberates throughout the quiet room¸ and I swear I hear a grunt of satisfaction come from him at the exact same time I moan.
“You like that, princess?” He’s caressing the spot where he smacked me, his fingers so gentle my heart flutters. “I can see how pink your skin is even in the dark.”
The moon is bright, painting the room in silver, gilding his sharp features, his beautiful mouth. I watch him from over my shoulder, my arm resting beneath my head, my ass in the air. “I like it,” I admit, my voice quiet. I say nothing else because I’m scared I’ll say the wrong thing. Or worse, that I’ll say too much and make a fool of myself.
“Interesting.” His hand moves to my other butt cheek and he taps it, lightly. “You have the most perfect ass I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
I start to laugh, then clamp my lips shut when I see the serious glow in his eyes. “I’m glad you like it,” I say, feeling ridiculous as I turn away from him.
“I like everything about you I’ve uncovered so far.” My gaze returns to his, shocked by his admission, but he says nothing more. He slips his fingers between my cheeks, skimming over my damp folds, and his eyes narrow as he dips his fingers deeper. “Damn, baby girl, you’re soaked.”
I should be embarrassed. Overabundant wetness is something I rarely have to worry about when I’m with a guy. I mean yeah, they’ve aroused me, a few have given me orgasms, or I touch myself and make sure I gain my satisfaction when they do. But with this man in particular … I’m aching. My clit is throbbing and my pussy feels … empty. I want to know what it feels like to have his cock move inside me. I won’t be satisfied until that happens, and I hope to God it does.
I’m desperate for it. For him.
“You must really like it when I spank you,” he says almost reverently. He sounds downright fascinated by the possibility and I’m more than a little mortified. He’s probably not really into that sort of thing … Wait a minute.
Maybe he is. He did ask for my complete submission before we started. And he crept into my room like some sort of sexy thief, sneaking into my bed and touching me while he thought I slept. The entire scenario had been amazingly hot, fueling the long dormant fantasies I’d kept hidden from the world.
I’d been awake the entire time, waiting for him. I knew he’d show up and when I heard the screen door slide open, I had to bite my lips to keep from saying something.
It had been difficult, staying still while I could feel him watching me. I’d never felt sexier, never felt so alive and excited and terrified. My heart had pounded in my chest so hard I swore he could hear it and my entire body was overcome with shivers. I’d loved every moment and when I surprised him? I’d felt triumphant. Sexy.
In control.
But he took the control away from me within seconds, something that has never happened before. I don’t like anyone telling me what to do. I never have.
Until Max.
“Touch me,” I urge, spreading my legs farther, inviting him to continue his exploration.
He does exactly what I want, his deft fingers searching my folds, one long finger pushing deep inside my aching pussy. I whimper, savoring his invasion but wanting something more. Something bigger, thicker. Longer.
“I want inside you so fucking bad,” he grits out, that sexy low growl I’m starting to love coming from deep inside his chest. He sounds tortured, which is good because I am 100 percent tortured and I want him feeling everything I am at the same time.
“I want you inside me, too,” I whisper, moaning when he adds a second finger, then another. He’s fucking me with three fingers, I can hear my wet pussy as he pushes them in and out, and I close my eyes, bite my lip to keep from crying out. He plunges deep, touching a spot inside of me that makes me gasp, makes me tremble, and I want more.
“You ready for me?”
I nod, hoping he can see the frantic movement of my head. I can’t speak, I’m so overcome with the sensation of his long fingers thrusting inside me, his thumb coming around to press against my clit, and then I’m coming, unintelligible words falling from my lips as my entire body is consumed with shudders. My inner walls grip his fingers again and again and I collapse on the bed because my body’s too weak to hold me up. He withdraws his fingers from my body before he grips me by the hips and turns me over again so I’m on my back.
He’s flipped me around over and over since he showed up as if I weigh nothing and God, I like it. The way he takes full ownership of my body, pushing me into position, driving me wild. He’s commanding, a little rough, a little crude.
A lot sexy.
“Well, well, well, look at this.” His fingers trace just above my pubic hair. “Another tattoo.”
I say nothing, my heart is still pounding too hard and I’m afraid if I try to speak, nothing will come out but a rusty gasp of breath. He brings his fingers, shiny with my juices, to his mouth and licks them, the sight of his tongue making everything inside of me twist with yearning.
He hasn’t even really kissed me yet and I’m dying to feel that tongue of his slide against mine.
“What does it say?” he asks, flashing me a satisfied grin. He knows what he just made me do, how hard he just made me come, and I can see the pride etched all over his handsome face. He’s on a power trip and I’ll give it to him. I have to.
“Get a little closer and find out for yourself,” I finally encourage him breathlessly. My heart is racing as though I just ran twenty miles and it’s hard for me to concentrate, I’m still so blissed out.
Max does as I tell him to, his mouth hovering above my pussy, his eyes glued on the tattoo he’s just discovered. He traces it with his finger again, over every curve of every letter.
“ ‘Keep me wild.’ ” He lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine. “What exactly are you referring to, princess?”
I reach for him, grabbing his hand and pulling him up so he falls on top of me and I whisper against his lips, “That’s what I want from you,” just before I kiss him.
The kiss is dirty. Rough. Primal. Tongues and teeth and bites and sucks, no romantic softness, but I want none of that. I prefer this. Raw and uninhibited, our breaths come fast, our mouths frantic. My hands are in his hair and his are in mine, tugging and pulling and making me whimper, making him growl. Our legs are entwined and his cock is brushing against my belly, leaving wet streaks in its wake because he’s so aroused he’s leaking pre-come everywhere.
I wish I could taste it.
He rears up just as I grab for his cock, my fingers curled tight around the base. It throbs against my fingers, hard steel covered with velvet, and I lift my lids to find him watching me, his jaw tight, his mouth grim, his eyes glittering.
“I need a condom.”
“Did you bring one?” I ask, stroking him, squeezing my fingers around all that hot, silky skin.
His eyes close and a shudder courses through his body. I continue my paces, stroking him up … and down. Up and down. “I have one in my wallet,” he whispers, the last word hissing out.
“Then go get it.” I release my grip on him and he leaps out of bed, going to where he left his clothes on the floor and rummaging through them until he finds his wallet. I lift up on my elbows, staring at his fine ass, the muscles that ripple and flex as he moves.
My mouth waters and I wonder what he might do if I bit him there.
He flips open his wallet and pulls out the wrapper, flashing me a triumphant smile before he climbs back onto the bed, joining me with condom in hand.
“Can I put it on?” I ask innocently, dying to touch him again. I’d suck him into my mouth if he’d let me, but I’m also eager to know what it’s like to have him deep inside my body. Taking me. Fucking me …
“Only if you promise to ride me when you’re finished,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Deal.” I smile and he withdraws from me, lying on his back, folding his arms behind his head as if he has all the time in the world.
Oh, this is going to be fun. Never taking my eyes from his, I tear into the wrapper slowly, pulling the rubber ring out and tossing the trash onto the floor. He smiles at me, sucks in a harsh breath when I run my free hand down the center of his firm chest, scraping my nails against his skin as my fingers travel down, down … past his navel, tangling in his dark pubic hair until I’m encountering his giant cock.
“You’re big,” I tell him.
“The better to fuck you with,” he says with a mock leer.
A giggle escapes me. I don’t giggle. Not for real. I put on acts, laughing with guys like they’re the funniest thing ever when they are so … not. But this man, he might actually have a sense of humor hidden beneath that rough and rude exterior. “Like the big bad wolf?” I ask.
“Oh yeah, princess. Do I need to start calling you Little Red?” He grins and I shake my head, fighting my smile.
“I think you’d like that. Me pretending to be the scared little girl hiding behind my cape while you chase after me and finally take me down,” I taunt him, noting the way his eyes heat as he stares at me.
“I already caught you.” He grabs hold of my wrist, stopping me from stroking his cock. “Put the condom on.”
I do as I’m told when he lets go of my wrist, my fingers shaking as I fumble to slip the circle over the head of his cock. He watches me the entire time, making me nervous, and I lift my gaze to his as if seeking approval.
By the satisfied smile on his face, I think he likes my obedience. And for some strange reason, I like that I pleased him. “Come here,” he whispers as he drags me over his body so I’m straddling him, my legs draped over his hips, my pussy poised just above his cock. I can feel him nudge against me, teasing my folds, and I grip hold of his shoulders, closing my eyes as I brace myself for his welcome invasion.
Within seconds he’s giving it to me, his ragged exhale making my entire body clench in anticipation. “Look at me, princess,” he murmurs.
My eyes flash open and he tilts his head, indicating I should look down. I do so, all the breath rushing out of me as I watch his cock slide slowly inside my body. I move in closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, his face at my throat as I start to ride him.
He feels good. So big and thick, invading me completely. The man knows just what he’s doing, too, flexing his hips and pushing deep as I rotate and shift, making sure he hits all of my secret spots. His lips are damp, his breath hot on my neck, and I tilt my head back, squealing when he sucks on the skin right at my pulse at the base of my neck. His hands are on my hips, guiding me, holding me still so he can lift his hips and thrust deep inside my pussy, and a shuddery moan escapes me.
“You like that?” he asks and I nod, too overcome to speak. Too afraid I’ll say something and ruin it. So I keep my lips shut, letting my moans and my whimpers and my body do all the talking for me.
“You’re tight as fuck,” he continues, his voice raspy as he starts to pick up the pace. “Squeeze around me, princess. Let me feel you.”
I clench my inner walls around his cock, pleasure rocketing through me when he groans. I like the way he holds me down. I like how tight he grips my hips, how brutal his thrusts are. He’s using me and I love it. I want to be used. I’m the one who’s always using, who’s always entertaining and putting on the show, and I’m so fucking sick of it.
I just want to be free. To fly. To lose myself and let this man do whatever he wants to me. I just want … to feel nothing.
And everything. All at once.
Tilting my head, I curl my fingers into the damp hair at his nape and pull his head back, sealing my mouth over his. The kiss is a wreck, smashed lips and seeking tongues and nipping teeth, but I love it. He reaches between us and palms my breast, nimble fingers working my nipple as his cock works my body and his mouth works mine. Our bodies are slick with sweat, I can hear the squeak of the box springs as we move and bounce on the mattress, and when his hand slips farther, his fingers brushing against my clit, I almost lose it.
“Sensitive?” he murmurs against my lips. His touch becomes more purposeful, his finger tracing over my clit again and again, and I can feel the orgasm building. I don’t want to come yet. I want to savor this. Enjoy it. The way his cock moves inside my body, the drag and pull as he thrusts again. And again. And again …
“Oh God,” I gasp just as my orgasm hits full force, even stronger than the one he gave me earlier. It vibrates just beneath my skin, rippling through my veins, settling deep in my body, and I clutch him close, my mouth at his ear, my panting breaths in time with the spasms taking over me.
Still he continues to thrust, his own orgasm coming soon after mine, his entire body going so still I lift my head, staring into his eyes just as the first wave sweeps over him. His hand grips the back of my head as he pulls me in, crushing his mouth to mine. I swallow his groans, run my hands over his shoulders and back as if I can soothe him through the shudders and the gasps and the moans.
Not that I really want to soothe him. I’m not fooling myself into thinking what we just shared is something … more.
This is nothing. Just one night of terrific, hot sex. That’s all it can be. I’m not built for relationships, for caring about someone. I’m too selfish. Daddy’s told me that time and again.
And he’s right.