It was the most luscious kissing. I sank into it, tried to wrap my arms around him and pulled him down over me, but he’d have none of it.
Max was in control. I had a feeling he’d never let me forget that.
He held back, kissing me generously, deliciously. I wanted to weep from the bloom of bittersweet love I felt for him and from him. It wasn’t long before he’d pulled me into his lap. Not straddling him, but with my back against his chest, his hands on my breasts and my stomach. I tried not to be self-conscious, but I was aware of my generous curves, the round belly, the full hips that contrasted so sharply with his toned and muscular body. Nothing seemed to slow him down though. He looked me over appreciatively, his hands and mouth worshipful as he kissed my throat and my shoulder, his hands reaching around to cup my full breasts, to rub them through the rough lace of my bra. I wriggled under his touch, but one big hand went to my belly and stilled me, locking me in place for his exploration, his pleasure.
I loved it, being splayed out on his lap in my bra and panties, his hot, wet mouth doing incredible things to my neck and ear while his questing fingers worked beneath the lace of my bra, peeling back the cups and baring my flesh to the air conditioning. Although it wasn’t the cool air from the vents that had my nipples pebbled and tight, but the big, calloused fingers plucking at them, stroking them like I was his instrument, like he was going to torment me to orgasm. I was already looking forward to every second. Him teasing me, playing with me, holding me like this was easily the hottest thing that ever happened to me. I could hardly believe we were here, together in his bed in stages of undress, that I was allowed to touch him, that Max was touching me, savoring me like I was the most delicious meal of his life.
I could feel the prod of his huge erection against the curve of my butt, and I ground back on it a little. He groaned and slid the hand on my belly lower, dipping his fingers into my panties. My tender, damp flesh almost wept for him, for the anticipation of his touch. I grew even wetter with every centimeter his fingertips trailed southward. I wasn’t sure I could control myself, the wild desire ripping through me A jolt of fear hit me—knowing I was in his hands, vulnerable, that I’d give him everything, and that he might break my heart as a way to return the favor.
I couldn’t worry about that, about anything when a sheen of sweat coated me from the exertion of holding onto him, reaching back for him, twisting in his lap to kiss him. Finally, his whole hand was inside my panties, stretching the lace in a lewd shape. I could make out his knuckles and his individual fingers when I looked down at the distended fabric. It turned me on even more to see Max’s fingers buried in my panties, about to be buried in my pussy. I shuddered at the thought and tipped my head back to whisper to him over my shoulder.
“Please, Max,” I gasped.
“Please what?” he teased me.
“Please put your fingers in me, touch me, feel what you’re doing to me. I’m so wet. I’ve never been so wet,” I babbled urgently.
“Not even when I kissed you at your apartment? When I grabbed your arms and held you there while I tasted you? I couldn’t last another second. You have to know that. I needed you so much I would’ve lost my mind. Only that made it worse, kissing you that way. Once I’d kissed you, I was lost. There was no putting it aside, forgetting about it. No getting you out of my system. My need for you, Rachel, it would terrify you if you knew.”
“It wouldn’t scare me. I feel it, too. Like I could never have enough of you. I’ve thought the—dirtiest things about you, about us. It’s not like me, to even think that way. But after you kissed me I—I was in the shower with nothing but thoughts of you and a massaging showerhead.”
“So what did I do in that fantasy? Did I finger you?” He dipped a long, rough finger into my wet sex, parting those sensitive folds. “Did I go down on you? Eat you out until you were screaming and weeping? Or did I drive my cock into you as if we’d both go mad before we found satisfaction? Tell me,” he punctuated his words with such twisting and stroking of his finger, such a sharp stretching of the invasion of another finger that I rolled my hips, trying to accept it, trying to let the sting pass. He fondled me, gentled me with soft passes of his thumb over my clit. He petted me, tender and lush.
His every touch made me quiver at the wicked knowledge that he knew exactly what he was doing. That he was the one who’d chosen to finger me first, to stretch me, to ready me for his big cock. I couldn’t imagine taking anything bigger than his two fingers, but before I knew it I was clenching on them, riding them, bucking my hips up off his lap as he twisted his wrist and touched a place inside me that made me wild and free. I climaxed, biting my lip with a whimper. He brushed his fingers along my jaw, turned my face so I looked back at him. He kissed my lips, softly even as I came apart in his hands, so romantically, so gently that I was afraid I’d start crying.
As it was, I twisted away from his questing fingers and turned, flung my arms around him. I hid my face in his shoulder, a little embarrassed, a little shy, and hugged him. His arms came around me and held me. It felt so nice to be held, to be cradled against that big, strong chest. I felt that nothing could ever hurt me as long as I stayed in his arms. I felt safe and sound and cherished. I felt the snag of his beard against my hair as he kissed my head.
“I didn’t think you could be more beautiful than you already were. Then I made you come, and that look on your face—blushing and pretty and so surprised. I’ve never seen you so gorgeous,” he said. I just buried my face in his neck and pressed a kiss to his collarbone.
I was afraid I’d say I loved him if I tried to speak. I might fall apart and cry and tell him every single thing I loved about him. That would ruin everything. So instead, I kissed him. The instant our lips touched, that desire raged through me again. The attraction had energy of its own, and I was in the grip of it. Max was kissing me like a desperate man, one drowning or falling, who had caught the one thing that could save him. It was a glorious, joyful, pleasurable kiss that deepened and caught fire. He held my face in both his hands, so personal, so intimate, as if he were holding all of me in his palms, as if I was the person he wanted, my face and my lips and my soul. I felt cherished—I kept thinking that. It was a new feeling for me, and powerful.
Max rolled me onto my back, kissing me, his mouth moving to my neck and the scrape of his beard tickling just enough to sensitize the skin all over my body. I grinned and combed my fingers through his hair, arms and legs around him just to make it really obvious how much I wanted him. Down and down he moved, his lips on my collarbone sending shivers all through me, stripping off my bra with one hand and then fastening his hot mouth over my nipple. I rose off the bed as my body bowed with the shock of ecstasy from the pull of his lips. “Max!” I cried.
He looked up at me then, “I want that. I want to hear you say my name. Every time I make you feel good, say it,” he commanded. I nodded vigorously.
“I’ll lose my voice saying it so much,” I said with a wobbly laugh as he moved between my legs. Swiftly he stripped off my panties.
Max nipped and kissed my sensitive lower lips, tugging just a little, teasing lightly with his tongue. I should’ve known he’d know what he was doing, I thought with a grateful sigh. He didn’t slobber all over me or ram his tongue in like that should send me spiraling into bliss like my ex had done. Let’s face it, any other guy was a distant memory at this point, a mistake. I stroked his hair encouragingly as he pressed soft kisses to the crease of my hip. His big hands splayed over my thighs, his thumbs tracing a light circle that seemed to make me shake all by itself. By the time he positioned his lips over my clit, brushing them lightly over that needy knot, I was trembling all over, ready to beg, biting my lips to keep from screaming already. He kissed my clit, stroked it with the tip of his tongue, lapped the underside where I was so terribly, terrifically sensitive. My toes curled up, and my breath left me in a gust. I made sounds, vowel sounds mostly, nothing like words because I was beyond speech. The bla
sts of blue light behind my eyes seemed to sync up with the bolts of pleasure shooting up my spine, tightening my stomach to the point of almost cramping with the strain. He drew it out, the buildup that finally broke, ecstasy crashing over me. My head went back, my back arched, and my legs went stiff straight out from me as I rolled my hips, Max kissing my trembling pussy with an open mouth, making out with my sex in the lewdest, most delicious way. I was never going to recover from this. That was certain.
Wrung out and shivering, I rolled onto my side, grappling for a blanket to cover myself with. I had come so hard I was chilled. He surged up the bed, wrapped me in his arms, pulling me back flush against his chest. “I’ll make you warm, don’t worry,” he said, kissing my bare shoulder. Max kissed my temple and my cheek, his fingers laced through mine. It was almost unbearably sweet and romantic. I felt myself smiling. I felt languid and loose, wrung out after two climaxes. At the same time, I wanted him. I wanted to have Max fully, wanted to bring him the kind of pleasure he’d given me not once but twice already.
“Rachel,” his voice was low and heated, not like I’d ever heard it before, and he was saying my name in a way that made me tingle.
“Max,” I said, my voice a whisper, “come to me. I need you, too.”
His handsome, stern face lit then, not only the fire of lust in his eyes but a warmth, a wonder at my acceptance of him, at how much I wanted him as well.
“I’ve wanted you this way forever, since the first time you came in the diner and sent your food back.”
He surprised me, rolled me beneath him and laced our fingers together, pressing my hands to the mattress on either side of my head.
His mouth blazed down my neck and over my breast. My breath was coming so fast I was dizzy. When he mouthed my nipple, licking and sucking, I arched my back, my head tossing back and forth on the sheets with the needy thread of pleasure that was building in me, a pull in my belly and a throb between my legs. I tried to say his name but I stuttered. He released one of my hands to run it down my body. His calloused hand was coarse on my heated skin as it slid down between my legs. I writhed at his slightest touch, felt my cheeks flush and my free hand reached for his.
It was then that he kissed me again, that the rasp of his beard against my neck was both a tickle and a stimulating buzz on my skin. I held on to him, my palms on his back as his muscles flexed and bunched under my hands. He settled his narrow hips between my thighs. I could feel the wet, fevered tip of his cock nestled against my sex, and the wetness, the face that he was wet for me, made me press against him. He groaned out loud and flexed his hips slightly, just breaching my entrance with his thick cock. My eyes were wide as they met his. He held himself above me, control in every line of his frown. He rocked into me deeper and I gasped.
“Yes, yes, that,” I babbled. “You feel so good to me, Max. Why has it never felt this good before?”
“I’m just that good,” he smirked and thrust his hips, a short, sharp shove that brushed something inside me. It set me moaning and grappling at his back, my short nails scratching him.
He looked pleased at that response and eased in even further. I started to wonder if his cock was endless, if there was any way I could take all of him. I tried to catch my breath, but I felt dizzy. The pressure of Max’s penetration, the size of him, was making me lightheaded. I bucked my hips, determined to hold all of him. That surprised him, and he thrust in higher than he meant to, because concern was on his face. I bit my lip, but I was grinning. This was so good, and it was only going to get better.
He drew all the way out of me, my wet folds clinging to him. Then he thrust forward, piercing me deeply. I cried out and bowed up off the bed with the force of his penetration. It felt so good, so complete. I swallowed hard, convinced I could feel him in the back of my throat, in my belly, everywhere. We were joined together now, and our bodies were one. I looked at him shyly and saw that his head had gone back as if just entering me were ecstasy. Each time he withdrew and then sheathed himself in me was white-hot pleasure, a blaze of delicious satisfaction rippling through me.
Before long, my legs were wrapped around him, and he had slid an arm under the small of my back so he could hold me, tilt my body so he could get just the right angle. And it was definitely the right one, because I started moaning whenever he thrust inside me, the head of his cock pressing a place that set me shuddering and made my legs stiffen and my back arch with a shot of bliss. His lips fastened on my nipple, sucking, and then moved to my neck. His thrusts grew uneven, heavier and more staccato. I loved it because it meant he was losing his grip on that iron control, he was going hard, doing just what felt good to him, and I craved that, craved the chance to give him the kind of fiery pleasure he’d given me.
His broad shoulders, his muscular body covered me, his weight resting on one arm as if he were doing the world’s sexiest push-ups. I rolled my hips in rhythm with his, felt the twist of his cock inside me as I moved. I loved seeing the shock on his face, the reaction to my own desire. “Yes,” I told him. “More.”
Max turned us, so fast I wasn’t sure what had happened. I was straddling his lap, speared by his cock, and he had one arm banded around the small of my back, one hand on my thigh, spreading my legs farther apart. Before I could worry about what I was supposed to do on top of him, he started working me up and down the length of his cock, lifting my hips, sliding a hand up the inside of my thigh to play with my sensitive outer folds, thumbing my clit even as he pumped into me with a firm, decisive stroke. My arms were around his neck and it was so intimate, to be face to face with him, in his lap, his fingers on my sex and his big cock moving inside me. In no time, I was panting, whimpering.
“That’s it, baby, take it,” he crooned to me, and nipped at my bottom lip as I rode him. Our tongues meshed and our bodies merged, a heady, dizzying spiral of sweat and clinging and strength and vulnerability. I could give him this, an intense, raw coupling in the middle of the night, as quiet as we could be because we weren’t alone in the house, I jerked my hips forward and tried to wipe off my grin, but he surged up into me with shout as he came. That shout and the sensation of his hot, liquid cum pouring into me made me quiver and clench like a fist around his cock. He thumbed my clit frantically, and I came and came until I was breathless. Then I sobbed a little. Because I’d never felt so complete or so happy.
Max held me, and I turned over on my side, curled up a little because I felt so exposed. He had to know I was in love with him after all that, and especially after I started crying. There wasn’t going to be any convincing him that I always cry at weddings, movies and sex. I couldn’t act like this was normal, and he’d get relationship panic in the next ten seconds, thinking I expected something from him. When I knew better than to ask for more than this night. Even if I deserved more, deserved the horse and carriage, the rings and doves and declarations of devotion. I’d chosen this knowing it was all he was capable of giving me. So I’d hold every sweet moment of it close to my heart and try not to worry about goodbyes until I had to.
He curled up behind me and tucked me back into his chest, surrounding me with his body and his arms. He kissed my cheek and my hair. He let me snuggle up with him and drift off to sleep in perfect bliss. Wishing it could last forever.
16
Max
I shook myself awake, startled. The windows were dark. It was late at night. I felt and heard her before memory came flooding back in. Rachel was in bed with me, asleep. She’d been in my arms until I sat up, scrubbed my hands over my face. What the hell had I been thinking?
We’d had such a sweet, deep moment putting Sadie to bed together, like a family. It had made all my feelings just come to the surface and I couldn’t deny them, couldn’t deny who and what I wanted. I hadn’t meant for it to happen, and I definitely hadn’t meant for us to fall asleep. No matter how much I knew this was a mistake, I liked seeing her beside me, her hair spread out across the pillow, her skin pale in the moonlight. I trailed my hand
up her bare arm, memorizing the softness of her skin. I kissed her shoulder and then woke her gently.
“Rachel,” I whispered. She stirred but didn’t wake. I leaned in closer, kissed her neck, said her name again. She gave a sleepy smile, stretched catlike and turned into my arms. I stroked her cheek and kissed her softly. “I’m sorry to wake you up. It’s late and, really, I don’t want to confuse Sadie, and I’m not sure how to explain this to her.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll go. I don’t want her to see me here either. I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she said.
“No, I fell asleep too. I guess I was worn out,” I gave a crooked grin and then suppressed it. “Last night was incredible, and I like you very much…” I paused, trying to get my words right, trying not to sound like a complete ass.
“But you don’t want to confuse Sadie,” she finished for me, her voice low and even, resigned.
She nodded. Sitting naked in my bed, a sheet pulled up to her armpits, she nodded as if we were in total agreement that this was a lovely mistake never to be revisited.
“I don’t want you to think I don’t value you,” I said, and I heard how crappy that sounded in my head as I said it. “I value you and your role in Sadie’s life too much to treat you like a friend with benefits. I’m well aware that a woman like you, loyal and dedicated and loving, deserves better than what I can give, including this. Including spending tonight together. It was selfish of me to take you to bed, knowing that this was all I could give you. I don’t regret it. Maybe a better man would.”
“I don’t regret it either,” she said softly. “I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. You didn’t seduce me or anything. I’ve been dreaming of being with you like this. And I’m a big girl. I knew you weren’t going to change your mind all of a sudden just because we spent a night together. It wasn’t going to change your priorities or your plans. I wanted to be with you anyway.”
The Lumberjack's Nanny: A Forbidden Romance (Rockford Falls Romance) Page 13