Inspired By You (Love in the City Book 6)
Page 15
I looked down and watched him inch closer to me, sucking a trail of kisses up my calf to the back of my knee, shouldering his strong body between my legs. When he neared the apex of my thighs, I whimpered, begging him to remove the scrap of lace blocking his way, but instead he switched legs and started all over again, lifting my right leg up to kiss that ankle.
Pure torture.
That’s what this was.
Breasts heavy, I dug my nails into the pillow in frustration and continued admiring his work. I wasn’t the only one being tortured. His cock lengthened with each move he made. The confident determination he carried out in every single one of his actions reiterated how different my second time would be compared to my first. The first time was filled with fumbling hands and awkwardness between a boy and a girl inexperienced and ignorant about protection. Now, a man and a woman, who knew exactly what they both wanted, what they each liked, explored their feelings for each other physically. Max couldn’t take his eyes or hands off of me. He admired me like I was the other half he’d been searching for his entire life. He’d mastered the erogenous zones on a woman, knowing exactly where to kiss and touch or bite and suck, eliciting a favorable response out of me each and every time.
And I gladly let him.
He made me feel like I was just as good at the physical as he was, even though I knew our sexual pasts drastically differed.
Once he neared my center again, I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him up to my lips. As we kissed, his hands found mine latching onto the band of his briefs. I worked them down over his ass, and he moaned in such a masculine tone, my insides wept to hear it again.
When he moaned, I felt like I owned him.
“Max,” I begged against his mouth, working my hips against his hard cock. “God, I want you.”
“Patience.” He pushed his underwear all the way off and allowed me to appreciate his thick cock.
“Screw patience,” I argued, running my hands down his chest.
He gave me a quick peck on the lips before taking one breast in his mouth while he massaged the other. “I’m not done exploring yet.”
“Touch me. I need you to touch me.” Loving the feel of his mouth and hand on my breasts, I took his free hand and slid it into my panties, showing him where I needed him most.
Slipping two fingers into me, he groaned loudly again as my core tightened around his skillful fingers.
“You’re soaked,” he said, shooting me a pleased grin. “I’m going to take care of you. I promise.”
“You better,” I said, while he switched his mouth to my other nipple.
He added a third finger and moved his hand more rapidly, and I thought I was going to come just from the sensation.
“Just like that,” I stated breathlessly, massaging the back of his scalp. “Don’t stop.”
“I don’t plan on it,” he muttered.
He added his thumb to the torturous play, rubbing my swollen, needy clit in sync with his fingers until my vision became hazy. I threw my head back, arching my body further into him as much as I could, and then tightened around his fingers and let the pleasure ripple all the way through me, from my head all the way down to my curling toes.
When I opened my eyes again, I found him sitting back on his heels between my legs, a content smile spread across his face. He licked his fingers, and a blush blanketed my cheeks as I smiled weakly back at him, still high from my orgasm, basking in his adoration. Then he finally slid my panties down my legs and let them join his briefs on the floor. His swollen cock jutted toward me, begging for attention of his own.
Sitting up, I ran my hand down his hard length, applying just enough pressure to rub another moan out of Max.
“I’m not going to last if you continue doing that,” he stated.
“I can’t explore?” I asked teasingly.
He chuckled and laid me back down again. “Not if you want a few more orgasms.”
“Yes, please,” I said, cupping his face.
We kissed—I’d lost count of what number kiss we were on—but I knew by the sincere gleam in his eyes right now, as he hovered over me, that I’d never forget our first time together. The burn of his stubble against my skin. His mouth sucking and kissing every inch of me. His chiseled muscles on display for me to touch and tease. His hands exploring all of my soft sides. It all added up to this powerful, heady moment imprinted on me for the rest of my life.
He leaned over to his nightstand and pulled out a condom and then covered himself with it. We went back to kissing and touching, and the ache between my legs returned. For the first time in my life, I felt insatiable, like I couldn’t get enough of him. Max’s mouth and hands and the feel of his taut cock testing the waters turned me into a needy woman, craving another orgasm that rocked her system even harder than the first.
“Max,” I urged, anchoring my legs around his hips.
“I know,” he said, brushing his lips along my collarbone. “I’m right there with you.”
Pulling his hips back, he positioned himself and then slowly filled me, inch by inch, taking his sweet time.
“Yes,” I moaned, body arching.
He slid back and rolled his hips forward again, sinking deeper into me, his body shaking with tension as he concentrated on controlling his own needs. Kissing him, I ran my hands down the muscles of his back, and when he punched forward again, I grabbed his ass and encouraged him to go deeper, harder, faster.
“I’m not going to break,” I stated, perking my brows up at him. “I want you to lose control. Get wild, babe.”
He nodded and made the bed slam into the wall the next time he pounded into me. “Like that?”
“Yes!” I screamed, tossing my head back. “God, just like that!”
With each thrust, he hit so deep, so earth-shatteringly perfect that my jaw became perpetually dropped. He sent us on a ride of pleasure I’d never ridden before. Gasping and passionate, eagerly diving into the depths of satisfaction. My fingernails scored the length of his back and ass as I held on and continuously met him thrust for thrust, begging him not to stop. Circling his hips against mine, his cock surfed every inch of me, chasing down our climactic tides.
Taking my hands, he raised our arms above my head, pressed our sweat-slicked palms into the pillows, and then punctuated his hips into me a few more times, taking us all the way up that glorious crest.
My orgasm crashed over me, and then he allowed his to do the same, and we rode them out like a couple of pro surfers riding out a monstrous wave. The kind of wave even the ocean couldn’t make, drowning us in a gratifying sea we resisted escaping.
We resurfaced drenched in each other’s sweat, laboriously trying to catch our breaths, feeling both tired and sated.
A delightful numbness buzzed throughout my body, disabling all movement of limbs.
“Amazing,” he said, resting his head against my breasts. “Absolutely amazing.”
I nodded wordlessly, unable to string together letters for words as he softened inside me.
Peering up at me, he caressed my flushed cheek with his hand and then kissed me. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” I finally said in a scratchy voice, throat dry from overuse. “I’m better than okay. If my brain didn’t feel like mush right now, I’d think of a word better than okay.”
He chuckled softly. “How’s a bath sound now?”
“Like heaven.”
Slowly, he pulled out of me and discarded the condom. I turned on my side and watched his beautiful ass walk into the bathroom to start the water. If I could have felt my legs, I would have joined him immediately, but instead I observed from afar as he drew a bath for us, which had to be the hottest postsex action a man could ever do.
Steam billowed up from the tub, and he added some oils and salts to the water.
“Lights, fifty percent,” he said.
The bulbs immediately dimmed to a more sensual setting, and he grabbed two hand towels and folded them into pill
ows. He placed them on the edge of the tub at each end, and then he swaggered back into the bedroom and squatted down beside me.
He kissed my lips and smiled. “I’m going to go grab us a couple of waters. When you can move, you’re more than welcome to make yourself at home.”
“Thank you.”
Once he left, I crawled off the bed and carried my naked body into his magnificent bathroom. I used the toilet and noticed he’d added a few items since the last time I was here. On the vanity between the double sinks, he had added a pink toothbrush to the cup holding his blue one, and the rack on the wall now held two robes instead of just one.
Items just for me so I didn’t have to share his.
God, I really am falling in love with him.
Before I stepped into the warm tub, I admired myself in the vanity mirror. My tan skin glowed in the soft light of the room, but it was my hair that made me laugh. The blowout I’d gotten for our night out had been replaced with a mess of waves surrounding my face. I gathered my hair to one side, divided it into three sections, and then braided it without pulling the strands all the way through so they knotted together at the end. Then I looped the bottom half of the braid through the middle and pulled it tight since I didn’t have a hair tie with me. The style controlled my hair and kept it from getting too wet in the tub.
I slid into the bubble bath just as Max entered the bathroom carrying two bottled waters. He placed them on the tile next to the tub.
“Oh, my gosh,” I moaned. The hot, enriched water came all the way up to my shoulders and immediately soothed my whole body.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he said, stepping in at the other end.
“So good,” I said, admiring his form before it disappeared under the suds.
Our legs tangled together beneath the water, and already my body wanted to swim over to his nakedness and reenact what we’d done in the bedroom. But the heat of the water and the goodies he’d thrown in it made me stay put at my end. My muscles solidified back from the liquid form sex had melted them down to and the soreness crept in, but it was an ache I reveled in, one I hadn’t experienced in so long that I welcomed it.
Running my toes along his strong thighs, I laid my head back against the towel pillow and sighed. “I noticed the additions you made to your bathroom.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asked in an amused tone. “Do you like them?”
I smiled and glanced over at him. He looked glorious soaking at the other end, like a king sitting on his throne, with his ripped arms resting along the edge of the tub. “I do. My pink robe matches my pink toothbrush perfectly.”
He chuckled, grabbed my left foot and started massaging it. “I just wanted you to feel comfortable here.”
“I am.” His fingers rubbing the aches out elicited another moan from me. “God, you’re good with your hands.”
He laughed again and brushed his foot against my hip. “I’m glad you think so.”
Under the water, my hands found his calves and began massaging them. The warmth from the water, the dim lights, and Max’s hands created an alluring mix that could practically lull me to sleep.
“I could fall asleep in here with you doing that.”
“I was just thinking that.” I sighed, resting my head back again. “Until the water gets too cold, these oils and salts wear off, and we prune up. Then I want you to take me to bed.”
And he did just that about half an hour later, allowing me to curl up in his big, strong arms. Our naked bodies tangled together amongst his soft, luxurious sheets, and we fell into a quiet slumber that was quite possibly the best sleep of my entire life.
***
The morning sun peeked its way into Max’s room, waking me up to an empty bed. My skin felt extra soft and the soreness I’d experienced after our late night sextivity had completely vanished. Whatever he’d put in the tub had worked its magic. I felt like a new woman ready for another day with a man who enjoyed spoiling the hell out of her. Based on the scent of bacon lingering in from the hall, said man was cooking his woman breakfast, and my stomach grumbled in response, demanding me to get up and go find this bacon.
After I used the restroom, I tied the soft pink robe around my body and quietly left his room. As I tiptoed down the hall, I heard voices, and I mentally high-fived myself for putting on the robe.
I neared the end of the hall and peered into the kitchen to find Max standing at the island, wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts, video-chatting with a woman. The mother in me wondered if it was his mom, so I quietly slid back into the hall where he couldn’t see me eavesdropping.
“And you’re making her breakfast!” the woman exclaimed. “How could you not tell me about her? I had to find out via your Instagram picture? She’s beautiful, by the way.”
“I know. You’ll get to meet her someday, I promise,” he said before taking a drink of orange juice. “We’re taking it slow. She has a little boy we have to think about, too. That’s why I didn’t say anything. They’re important to me, and I don’t want anything to jeopardize that.”
“You still could have told your mother,” she quipped in a chastising tone.
I love her, I thought to myself with a smile. As I listened to their conversation, I silently prayed that someday when Zane was out on his own, I could call him up like this and talk about his life with him.
“I know, I know,” Max said with a grin. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“You’re forgiven,” she stated. A few more seconds went by as Max cut up some fruit and placed it in a bowl. “Do you love her?”
Max shot the iPad an annoyed glare.
“You do, don’t you?” the woman pushed in an excited voice.
In the hall, I held my breath, awaiting his response. I knew how I felt about him, and how I thought he felt about me, if this robe I had on was any indication, but I needed to hear his answer.
He looked away from the screen and shrugged. “We haven’t said it to each other yet.”
“Well, why not?” she inquired, continuing her interrogation.
He shrugged.
“Don’t let moments like that slip between your fingers, Max. If you love her, tell her.”
He placed his hands on the edge of the island and looked at the screen. “Maybe I don’t want to scare her away. Paparazzi and fans hounded her last night. I don’t want to overwhelm her by dropping those words on her, too.”
“Honey,” she offered sweetly. “If she loves you back, none of that will matter.”
“I know,” he said, nodding. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” A loud machine started up in the background on her end and she yelled at someone else to stop because she was speaking with Max. “I’m sorry, Max, but I’ve got to go help your dad with a new project he’s working on.”
“What’s he refinishing now?” he asked proudly.
“A china hutch for one of the ladies at church. It’s for her daughter-in-law.”
“Awesome. Send me a picture of it when it’s all finished.”
“I will,” she said. “Love you. Take care of yourself.”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
“See,” she laughed. “That wasn’t so hard to say. Now, go take breakfast to your lady and tell her.”
Max shook his head at her as she laughed louder. “Bye!”
He pressed the home button on his iPad and closed the FaceTime app, and then he went back to working on our breakfast. From the hall, I still watched him and replayed their conversation over in my head. It bothered me how often his fame summoned so many of his insecurities. He looked like a man secure with who he was, but his fame and the chaos that joined it created a web of anxiety inside him. It was a web I’d hoped I could free him of with three little words.
I pushed away from the wall and walked into the kitchen. His back was to me, so he didn’t see me right away, but when he felt my arms wrap around his waist, he turned around and smiled.
“Hey,” he sai
d, pressing his lips to mine. “How’d you sleep?”
“Perfect,” I said, studying his face.
“Me too.” He held a piece of bacon out in front of me. “Are you hungry? I’ve cooked bacon and eggs, and I cut up what fruit I had.”
“Starving,” I said, taking a bite of the bacon as I ran my hands over his abs.
He tossed the remainder of the slice into his mouth and eyed another piece, but I stopped him before he could grab another. Sliding my hands up his chest, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held his beautiful blue gaze.
“I love you,” I said, my voice strong and confident. I kissed him once on the lips and then smiled. “I love you, Max.”
He rested his forehead against mine. “You overheard my call with my mom?”
“I did,” I laughed. “And this is the part where you’re supposed to tell me you love me, too.”
He laughed and lifted me up onto the kitchen counter where he fit himself in between my legs. He tugged on my braid and then leaned in and kissed me. “You know, I do. I love you so much.”
Cupping his face, I ran my thumb along his sculpted jawline. “Then why are you so worried about your fame getting to me? I survived last night, didn’t I?”
He sighed and slipped his hands underneath my robe, resting his hands on my bare hips. “My biggest fear is another crazy fan or the media hurting someone else I love. If something happened to you, it would kill me. And I’m not just talking about the lies in the tabloids or the hurtful crap people post on the Internet. I’m talking about a physical assault because of me, because of who I am, because you’re with me. I don’t want that to happen again.”
I nodded and hugged him tight. “It won’t. And it’s not healthy to worry about something that may not ever happen. You have to believe that most of the media and your fans love and respect you, that they would never want to harm you or someone you love.”