His dark head bent between my legs and covered my pussy with his mouth.
Maybe it was the hormones. Maybe it was me. But I would swear on my life—whatever little I’d be left with by the time he finished with me—that if I wasn’t already pregnant, that tongue of his would’ve impregnated me.
Every stroke, every unbelievably perfect lick, every tug on my clit, I felt every touch in the most far-flung corners of my body. It didn’t make me see stars. It made me see him. His face. His smile. His stare. The hunger in his eyes. The meaning behind every word. Every lingering touch. Every stolen glance.
I cried out, clawing at the mattress and trying to arch into him, but failing. His hands caged my hips, pinning me to the bed and to the torture of his mouth—the torture of his tongue as he went from licking and strumming to pushing it inside me. Gasping, I searched for leverage as he fucked me with his tongue, and my feet, too short to reach the floor, found purchase on the broad roots of Max’s thighs. I felt the rumble of his groan as I pushed against his mouth.
“Fuck, Daze,” he growled, more savage than a gentleman, and then sucked hard on my clit.
I screamed.
“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” And then he sucked again.
I bucked against him. Against his lips. Against the sharp flick and soft slide of his tongue. And then he made another sound, something deep and guttural, before his hand moved from my hip and two long fingers pushed inside me.
“That’s it, wife,” he cooed. “Relax for me.”
Relax?I whimpered as my scream knotted in my chest. How could I relax when he was doing this to me? When his fingercurled against a spot no one—not even myself with a toy—had found before? When he stroked that sweet spot in sync with the draw of his lips on my clit? When he pummeled my nerves with pleasure like a famous fighter giving a one-two punch?
There was norelaxing.There was only submission.
And I felt it come for me the way a head rush claimed every ounce of blood from my brain, drawing it down my body and pooling it right where his mouth?—
“Max!” I cried as he pulled away—his fingers, his mouth—everything. Gone. I blinked, everything slogging into focus. My body. The bed.Him.
Like he was waiting for me to see him, he pushed himself up slowly until he stood between my legs that dangled over the side. I felt like a limp, overstuffed, red-splotched rag doll, and he stared at me, licking his lips like I was the first dessert he was about to have in his entire life.
His jaw pulsed as he reached for his waistband. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t breathe as he lowered his jeans over his hips and freed his thick cock, catching it in one fist and giving himself a long stroke.
Even lying back, my jaw managed to fall open. Had he been that big earlier? Outside, in the dark? Had I fit all ofthatinside my mouth? Or last night? Had the steam from the shower obscured what I saw?
He pumped himself slowly. Again. And again. My mouth went dry when a bead of moisture pooled at the tip, my tongue wanting to lick it off.
“You love watching me, don’t you, my little wife?” he drawled, a tipped smile shadowing his mouth as his eyes dropped between my legs. “I see how wet it makes you.”
“Max,” I whimpered, inching one hand toward my stomach, needing to ease the ache he’d left me with.
“Don’t,” he warned, and my fingers stilled. “That pussy is all mine tonight.”
Taking my legs, he lifted one and then the other so my feet were propped on the broad wall of his chest. I felt the pound of his heart against my right sole.
“You don’t know how bad I want you, my little wife,” he growled, dragging the head of his cock along my slit. “How bad I’ve always wanted you,” he added and then tapped the thick crown against my core.
I jerked at the sudden, pleasurable sensation.
“Steady, baby.” He anchored one hand to my hip and slid himself to my entrance, my desire making him slick. “Breathe.”
My mouth parted, but there was no room for sound, for gasps,for breathas he fed himself inside me.
“That’s it, Daze,” he cooed, just like he had that afternoon at the doctor’s, as he pushed his cock deeper. “You’re doing so good. So good taking my big cock.”
I clutched at the bed, my body in a tornado of sensations, simultaneously drained of tension, yet every muscle, every nerve on edge as he filled me inch after inch.
He felt bigger than he looked. Like he was stretching me in ways, in places I didn’t know were possible. I felt my body struggle to fit him, and it felt amazing. The first time I’d ever felt this full—this consumed.
Max grabbed my knees, his fingers skating up and down my thighs, his fingers pressing a sensuous path into my skin as he held my feet to his chest. My lashes fluttered, my breath catching as he worked himself deeper, his thrusts measured and steady. Always in control.
“Fuck.”
