The Reluctant Nude - Meg Maguire [53]
“Don’t.”
She withdrew her hand, disappointed and perplexed but pleased to be ordered around by this extraordinary man.
“Tonight is for you.” His fingers took her once more, showing her the most wondrous things.
“I can’t believe how good this feels,” she said, tempted to laugh. She arched her back, pressed her head into his pillow and reveled. “You are…goddamn. You’re Da Vinci.”
He laughed softly. “Is this hard enough?”
“Just do whatever you want.” She sighed, luxuriating.
“Anything I want?”
“Any goddamn thing you want, Max Emery.”
He grinned. “I have never heard you sound like this.”
“Me neither.”
“Well, I know what I want.” She caught him lick his lips. His eyes darted to hers, inviting a protest.
She wouldn’t have stopped him if the world depended on it.
He withdrew his hands and brazenly tasted the two fingers still glistening from her. He shut his eyes and made a noise of the dirtiest decadence. He slid the digits out and swore in French, delighted. “I can’t wait,” he said, eyes glimmering.
He knelt between her legs and lowered his body again to stroke her with his rock-hard cock, still hidden behind taunting gray cotton. The contact made Fallon gasp.
“Max…”
He rubbed against her, explicit. “What?”
“I want you.”
“You’ll get me, I promise. But not tonight. I’ve waited too long for you to rush now.”
The pleasure mounted against his thrusts, so powerful it scared her. He pulled away and edged back on the small bed, curling himself sideways to lean on one arm, draping one of her legs over his ribs. His hands spread her wider.
She bit her lip, momentarily intimidated. Her body could be so inept at relaxing into these kinds of caresses. But the fear dissolved as those now-familiar fingers returned, stroking then penetrating.
“You look beautiful,” Max said, gaze trained between her legs.
He leaned his face in close, nuzzling, taking in her scent. She caught him smile deeply and smiled herself. The steady thrust of his fingers made her ache in the most thrilling, impatient way, made her more excited, more wet than she could recall ever being. She wanted him so badly… She wanted things she’d never wanted before, like the things from her dreams these past few weeks. She wanted to see him, entering her—taking her. She wanted to see his face as it looked when he was excited, as excited as she was now.
His tongue flicked. Fallon felt her toes curl tight as fists from the sensation. Another soft lap. Her hips wriggled in his strong hands, craving more. He made a low, happy noise and his tongue set a steady, rapid rhythm against her clit. Wondrous. Miraculous.
“Max…”
His fingers explored her deeper, fueled her fantasies of being taken by him, here in this bed. That strong body driving into her, fast and rough and needy.
“Max.”
He glanced up, pausing for a moment.
“Take your underwear off. Please.”
He sat up and complied. She studied him hungrily as he lay back down, his fingers and mouth picking up where they’d left off. His cock looked stiff and dark, fairly long and quite thick. His eyes caught hers staring. He reached his free hand over to torture her, stroking himself with a few slow pulls, growing himself fully for her. Fallon felt things she never had before, like an urge to pleasure him so strong it could only have been the will of some primal corner of her brain. She lost her sense of reality as the sensations centered against his mouth and fingers became frenzied. She had to make a conscious effort to breathe deeply enough to keep from passing out.
“Max…”
He stopped touching himself, that hand holding her thigh tight, seeming to sense that she was nearing the precipice. His wet tongue fluttered, fingers stroking her inside, as if he knew how to play some instrument she’d never heard before, the most beautiful