She bit back a smile. “How do you want me?”
“Right here.” He kissed her again, his mouth hot and possessive. “Right now. Like this.” He spun her around, so her palms pressed against the wall. Then he dropped down behind her, pushing up her skirts. Thalia caught her breath as his fingers slid against bare skin.
This desire between them had always been uncomplicated. Whatever else they felt, they had always wanted one another. And after so long left wanting, she couldn’t bear to wait any longer.
His fingers found the slickness between her legs, and he made a growling sound of approval. “You’re so wet for me already.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Do you like it when I touch you here?”
She moaned as he dipped the tip of one finger inside her. She clenched around nothing.
“Tell me, Thalia,” she said.
She gasped. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I like it. So much.”
“Good girl.” He lightly slapped the globe of one buttock, and the sting made her squeeze again.
Every time they came together, it felt as though he changed her in some undefinable way. She had never known lust until it came with Maxwell’s name and face.
He licked her there, and her legs buckled.
“Don’t fall,” he commanded, and she braced her knees, resting her forehead against the wall.
Any time she worked here now, she would think of this moment, the way he ravished her against the wall after they’d spent so long apart.
No doubt it would affect her art.
She didn’t mind it.
The world knew now she was Rossi. Let them see her pieces and know that they were influenced by her life with her husband. Let him be her inspiration.
Her climax came over her so quickly it took her by surprise, and she moaned into the fleshy part of her hand, trying to hold back. This was all happening too fast; she wanted to savor it.
He laughed against her, the vibration against the little bundle of nerves almost sending her over the edge. “Are you holding back, love?”
“I just don’t want—” She had to concentrate on every word. “I don’t want this to end too soon.”
“I’ll decide when it ends.” He pushed a possessive finger inside her, and she widened her legs to offer him better access. “Now come for me.”
She couldn’t have held back even if she wanted to. Her body had more power than her mind, and he had pushed her beyond endurance. Every muscle in her body tightened as she contracted around him, the climax blinding. Maxwell had a supporting hand on her lower back as he licked and suckled her through it, that finger giving her something to squeeze.
When she finished, he gave her backside a kiss as he rose. She heard the way he hissed a breath as he rose, but she also knew he wouldn’t want her to move from her position unless he told her to.
And so, she remained in place, hands braced against the wall, her skirts bunched around her hips. Maxwell positioned himself behind her, his length hot against her skin as he slid it through her slickness, coating himself in her moisture.
Despite her recent climax, she was ready for more, and she moved against him, her breath coming in shuddering fits and starts.
“That’s right,” he said, his voice distracted as he finally positioned himself at her entrance. “You are everything to me, Thalia. Perfection.” He filled her with a long stroke. “I have spent every second we’ve been apart thinking about you.” His hands landed on hers as his body boxed hers in. He was so deep inside her, she saw stars. “Dreaming of this. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to do this?”
Thalia couldn’t make much sound other than a moan. He demanded all her attention, overwhelmed her body so she could hardly breathe. So full, so perfectly full—he made her feel as though if she took too deep a breath, she might force him back out again.
He kissed the back of her neck as he withdrew and thrust back inside her. Although he was big, she was so wet that he slid in easily. She arched her back, tilting her hips, offering more of herself, wanting him deeper. This was a primal urge for her to give herself over to him entirely so that he might possess her.
