He lowered his hands and worked on her breasts, loving the little gasp she made as he brushed the hard points at their tips.
“Mmm, nice,” he breathed. “So nice.”
She worked on, letting her palms slide down to his waist and smoothing the soap over his belly. “Yes, it is,” she answered absently.
The scent of flowers spread through the room with the steam from the shower, and filled Max’s nostrils. It was mixed with her own particular scent, the one that screamed her name when it sneaked into his brain.
He pulled her closer, squishing their soapy bodies together. “Oh, Peta, love, damn, you feel good like this. All naked and slippery. Especially here...”
He slipped his hand down past the softness of her belly, rubbing lather into the curls on her mound.
Her hips jerked forwards into his touch. “Oh hell. The things you do to me,” she breathed.
“Oh, hell nothing. We haven’t even started yet.”
His hand slipped around behind her as she massaged the ridges of his spine. They were closer than close, his cock nestled against her stomach, slithering around in bliss amongst the soapy foam.
He found her buttocks and kneaded them, letting his fingers roam wherever they wanted. And they wanted all her secrets. He found her cleft and followed it, pressing a little, intruding a little, and making her squirm.
“Max,” she sputtered, trying to pull back.
“Relax. I’m just touching you, nothing more,” he soothed. And of course, he lied.
His seeking fingers found their way between her buttocks to the tight ring of anal muscles. He rubbed it gently, making her shudder.
“God,” she stammered.
“Yes?” he answered, grinning.
“For pity’s sake...” She writhed as he found her sensitive nerve endings and played, rubbing, teasing, pulling away and then returning. His cock was on fire, but he ignored it, knowing that this was new territory and that she was awakening to some totally unexpected sensations.
His hands continued their play as he rubbed himself against her breasts, letting the soap slide between them and heighten their pleasure. Daringly, he let one fingertip press against her. “Relax, Peta. Just relax. Trust me.”
She sighed with pleasure. “I do, Max. I do.”
He felt her tensions subside, as she accustomed herself to this new feeling. Slowly, he let his finger penetrate her.
She shuddered. “Bloody hell.”
“Feels good?”
“It feels...I can’t describe it,” she breathed, grabbing onto his shoulders and digging her fingertips into them.
He smiled, satisfied. She’d warmed up, all right. These shivers weren’t from the cold.
Her hands slid down his back to his own buttocks, and she let her fingers squeeze and knead them, bringing a surge of heat to his flesh. Like his cock needed any more.
“You have a great arse, Max,” she murmured, then gasped as he moved his finger around a little.
“So do you,” he answered.
Her fingers strayed.
“Um, Peta?”
He felt her chuckle through her breasts where they were plastered against his body. “Sauce for the goose, dear, sauce for the goose.”
Jesus fucking Christ. She was doing the same thing to him. Her fingers found him and rubbed, right on his anus. He was torn between wanting to jump about four feet into the air and coming on the spot.
Fortunately, he did neither. He simply froze.
She continued her exploration, cautiously caressing him with soapy fingers. He couldn’t help it. He moaned.
“You moaned.”
“Did not.”
“Did too,” she chuckled.
“Well, fair is fair. You moaned too,” he smiled.
“Do I take it that this—“ she pressed against him again, “—meets with your approval?”
“Honey, anything you do meets with my approval. Um, well, let’s amend that. If you’ve got a butt plug around here anywhere, you can just put it away again.”
Peta laughed and pulled away from him, smiling at him over the lather that dotted her nose.
Max’s heart stopped as he looked down at her face. It shone with pleasure and joy and reflected the passion he was feeling. Something inside him shifted, realigned itself and settled down again, leaving him hot for her, but unsatisfied, as if just taking her, fucking her, and making her cry out as she came wasn’t enough. Would never be enough.
The thought terrified him, and he eased their bodies apart. “Time for a rinse, I think,” he said. He turned her away from him, and smoothed the lather from her body, letting the water sluice away the soapy residue.
With a quick shake, he rid himself of any leftover foam, and reached for the towels as she turned off the water.
“How’s the ankle?” He held out his hand and watched her as she stepped out of the tub cautiously.
“Good, thanks. I can’t put my full weight on it yet, but it’s holding up very nicely. Better than I expected.”
Max wished he could say the same. He rubbed her ferociously, reddening her body, and ignoring her protests.
“Hey, you’re going to take the skin off,” she laughed.
“Not me. I have plans for that skin.”
“Oh?” Her gray eyes gleamed at him. “What plans might those be, may I inquire?”
“No, you may not.” He gritted his teeth. She was warm, dry, shining with her heat, and he wanted to take her right this minute. Lay her down on the damp towels and sink so deep into her he’d lose himself. Forever.
He got scared all over again.
*~*~*~*
Peta lay quietly on the bed and listened as Max finished up in the bathroom. He’d been almost curt with her, but the heat in his eyes had reassured her. And his hard cock had sent a message all its own. He was struggling for control.
She smiled to herself. She of the big hips and inadequate boobs was making Max Wolfe struggle for control. Yes, Virginia, there was a Santa Claus. He’d brought her something she’d never believed she could have. Max.
She snuggled deeper into the covers, wondering what was taking him so long.
“Miss me?”
His light tones made her shiver as he appeared in the doorway, snapping the bathroom light off as he moved towards her.
Her breath caught in her throat. He was truly gorgeous.
His sandy hair had darkened beneath the shower, and a few damp strands clung to his face. His body was perfect, his chest a work of art that would have made Michelangelo weep and then reach for his chisel—and his eyes? Well, hell. There were no words.
She faced reality. She was helplessly, hopelessly in love with this man. Come what may, she’d gone and done it. Been really stupid and allowed him to touch her in more places than just her body. She’d let his warmth and his humor get inside her, to comfort her and enrich her life.
A life that would, in all probability, not include him.
But she’d have tonight. As he had said, tonight was for them.
“Yes, I missed you,” she answered. Her voice was throaty as her need bubbled up from her toes to her eyebrows.
He prowled the room. He was looking for something it seemed, and then he reached for her cashmere scarf. “Aha.”
“Aha what? I don’t need a scarf. I’m quite warm enough now, thank you.” And that was the understatement of the year. The soles of her feet were burning, and they were cool compared to the rest of her.
Max dropped the towel he’d been carrying into a pile on the floor next to the bed and sank down, making the mattress sag.
“Do you trust me?”
What a question. An immediate response sprang to her lips but she bit it back, trying to read the expression in his eyes. This wasn’t just a simple sex thing, this was a real, honest-to-God, cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die kind of question.
There could be no other answer. “Yes.”
“Good.” He leaned over, and with a quick move, tied t
he scarf around her eyes, blindfolding her.
“What the...” Her brain closed down along with her eyesight.
“I want you to be aware of your body, Peta. Only your body. By blindfolding you, taking away your sight, you’ll have to use your other senses. It’ll be good. I promise you.”
His words both soothed and aroused her, and she swallowed, finding her mouth suddenly dry. “Okay,” she answered, trying to keep the nerves from her voice.
“Good girl.”
She felt the bed lift as he stood up, and then—nothing. Nothing but the light brush of the covers as he pulled them away from her body, and the caress of the cool night air in the bedroom.
A moment or so later, she couldn’t stand it any more. “Um, Max? What are you doing?”
“Looking at you.” His voice was low, almost a whisper and she felt her nipples harden in response to his words. She squirmed.
“I...I don’t know about this...” She felt vulnerable, exposed, and not being able to see the expression on his face robbed her of the ability to tell what he was feeling.
“I do. You’re beautiful.”
She couldn’t hold back the snort. “Am not. My hips are too big, I’ve got a belly, my—er—assets are less than impressive...want me to go on?”
There was no answer.
Then she felt warmth, heat, and the lightest touch of a tongue on her navel.
She jumped a little.
“Feel that?” he breathed.
“Oh yes. Yes indeed.” Her voice cracked slightly.
The touch came again, ringing her navel this time with moisture.
Her thighs widened as her arousal grew. But then, as soon as she was aching for the tongue to travel some more, it was gone.
She sighed.
There was silence for another moment or two, then something very cool pressed into her nipple, surprising a gasp out of her. It was gone before she could speak.
Max’s sensual torture continued unabated, bringing sighs of pleasure to her lips when something soft brushed her clit, and sobs of surprise as other cool things caressed her breasts and her belly.
“Bloody hell,” she moaned. “I’m going to die on you if you keep this up.” Her head tossed on the pillow and her hands were fisted in the sheets. She knew her hips were squirming and she could feel her juices running everywhere.
“What a way to go,” he chuckled. His deep voice was as arousing as anything he was touching her with, and she ached for him.
“Touch me with you, Max,” she begged. “Please.”
He didn’t answer her, but she felt the bed sink as he clambered on and settled beside her.
She waited.
Something brushed her lips. It was hard, warm and smooth, and she felt a slight moisture. Hungrily she opened her mouth.
“Not yet, love,” he whispered, pulling away. “Not quite yet.”
She licked her lips, tasting the drop of precome he’d left behind. “When?” she groaned.
“Soon, babe, soon...”
The touch came again, but this time to her breast, circling it in ever decreasing spirals until the heat of his cock was burning her nipple. Without thinking she reached for him, only to have him draw back.
“Hands at your sides, honey. No touching. Not allowed.”
Peta choked. “You’re impossible—“ Her words were interrupted by another caress, this time to her other breast.
She clenched her fists and focused on the feeling as he rubbed her softness with his cock once more.
It was truly amazing. She was so sensitive to his touch that she swore she could feel the pounding of his pulse through the tip as it nuzzled against her nipple.
She strained her ears and caught his breathing, a little harsh now, as if he too were fighting against the urge that battered at her. The urge to spread her legs wide and get him inside her where she ached for him.
“Max, please, don’t wait any longer, I can’t stand it.”
It was the unvarnished truth. It wasn’t just her body that craved him, it was her soul. When he took her, filled her, she was complete.
Without him, she was desolate and empty, a needy mass of writhing nerve endings awaiting the touch that would send her spinning into a fiery void where bodies blended, spirits merged, and hearts beat as one.
Her head swam as she felt Max’s thighs settle between hers. Super sensitive to the lightest touch now, the hairs on his legs brushed her and made her moan.
Then a soft sound intruded. A buzz.
And something touched her clit and nearly shot her up off the mattress. Bloody fucking bollocks. It was her vibrator.
Chapter Twenty Two
Max couldn’t help the mighty grin that swept over his face as the woman beneath him practically levitated off the bed. He’d really surprised her this time.
“You bastard,” she groaned.
He loved the way she cursed him, elongating the “a” and sounding like a furious Shakespearean heroine. He stifled his chuckle. This Juliet was seconds away from coming.
Of course, so was he.
He fidgeted around, moved her body slightly, and always kept the vibrator where it would do the most good.
He brushed her clit, then rubbed it, and then pulled back, letting her whimpers and cries tell him the best places and the best pressures.
Slowly, oh so slowly, he slid his sheathed cock into her. Thank God he’d remembered protection a few minutes before, because he sure wouldn’t have been able to stop for it now.
Not when her swollen flesh was pulling at him, widening for him and bathing him with her hot juices.
He slid deep, filling her, catching the vibrator between them. It was wild, this thrumming against his body and hers. He could feel her responses as he moved it slightly, and he gritted his teeth.
She had to be there—at the very peak. The most enormously high, muscle—clenching, my-heart-is-gonna-stop peak, before he’d let her fall.
And then he’d catch her.
He pulled back out and then slid in again, pushing even harder this time. The vibrator buzzed, Peta sobbed and Max’s cock swelled to its limits. He couldn’t take much more.
He thrust into her, rapidly now, letting his control go, and his instincts take over. His balls had solidified between his legs, and his heart was pounding in his ears.
He sensed her gathering her strength...he even felt her clench as the pressure of the vibrator hit exactly the right spot.
For them both.
She screamed. Her body went into wild and thrashing spasms as he held on, keeping the vibrator tight between them and hammering into her for all he was worth.
He couldn’t last. And he didn’t.
With a shout of his own, Max came. A crazy hot whirlwind rushed through him and spurted out into Peta, egged on by her inner muscles grabbing him, massaging and milking him, encouraging him to sink deeper and deeper as he let his balls empty their precious cargo into her.
He wrenched the vibrator from between their bodies and rammed himself home one last time, feeling her answering shudders beneath him as their flesh melded.
Another tremor shook Peta, and he relished it, letting her body tell him of its pleasure at his possession.
She sobbed, shaking around him, muscles weakening now, and rendering her limp.
He wasn’t entirely sure he was any better off. Lethargy flooded him, and he let his weight sink down onto the soft pillow of her breasts.
She sighed and rested a hand on his spine.
He carefully raised a hand and removed the blindfold, watching her eyes as she blinked at the light. They shone at him, as the haze of passion receded.
“Max,” she whispered. “Max...Max.”
His heart thumped against hers, as he moved gently from her body to her side. His cock softened and slithered sadly from her warmth, relaxed now, and ready to rest.
Max’s mind couldn’t, however. He lay quiet, holding Peta, and wondering what the hell had just happened.
/> Then it hit him. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t fucked a woman. He’d made love to her.
*~*~*~*
The dream began slowly, creeping into Max’s sleeping mind with all the stealth of Mr. Peebles pursuing an elusive morsel of bacon.
He was standing by an open window looking out onto a strange and colorful landscape. Birds sang loudly, plants that he’d never seen before bloomed in profusion, and the air was soft and warm.
It certainly wasn’t Mayfield in the winter.
He looked down. In his arms he was holding a soft bundle. Which moved. Surprisingly, his first instinct wasn’t to drop it but to look more closely.
A pair of hazel eyes stared somberly back at him from beneath a soft cap of chestnut curls.
He wondered why on earth he was holding a baby.
He was quite surprised. There was no secret about the fact that he regarded children in the old fashioned way—they should be seen and not heard. And even then only seen from a distance that included at least two states. And possibly a river.
But few of those thoughts ran through his mind as he gazed at the tiny face studying his.
The little rosebud mouth opened in a large yawn, and revealed shiny pink gums. Obviously it found him rather boring. Max wished he could say the same.
For some reason he was fascinated.
He gently settled the bundle more securely against his chest and brushed a finger over the satin cheek. The small head followed the move, responding automatically to the touch of another.
“Hello,” said Max, unsure of what to say to someone this small. The little eyes blinked sleepily at him.
Then it struck him. They were his eyes. A junior version, but the hazel coloring was unmistakable. He gulped.
“Little sweetheart, isn’t he?”
The voice behind him, although quiet, made Max jump and tighten his hold on the infant. A small whimper next to his heart recalled his attention and he quietly soothed the child, as he watched a man with very blue eyes stand next to him and smile down at the baby in Max’s arms.
My Hero Page 17