For a half a second, I consider that option, but then I come to my senses. Don’t get me wrong, I want the orgasm. More than anything. But not in the hallway.
I’m feeling bold. But notthatbold.
The second we step inside I don’t have a second to think about anything before Maddox spins me around and presses me against the door. I’m in such deep concentration of his mouth, and kissing him even harder than I was in the hallway, that I don’t feel his hands trailing down my body. Once I realize it, I don’t have time to think, or even ask, what he’s doing, before my question is answered.
His arms are hooking under my ass, picking me up, and pinning me against the door.
Oh… oh my.
I can feel the sequins of my dress scratching against my thighs as Maddox holds me up, but any discomfort is quickly pushed aside when I feel his mouth kissing down my neck, over the tops of my breasts that are exposed from the deep v-cut.
“So good,” I breathe out, my hands clinging to his hair, burying his face into my tits even more.
How is this happening? I’m not a small girl. I have curves. I like to eat my sweets but remember to throw in a vegetable and protein in the mix. I know Justin was never happy that I’d lost my figure from back in the glory days. I used to not care—then I did care—then stopped caring again once I realized his view of me was tied into the entire way he felt about our marriage.
And he wanted to put me down to make himself feel better.
But the way Maddox is holding me up right now, the way he looked at me when we exited the car, and how he’s been touching me since we’ve been alone, none of that matters. He doesn’t care that I probably don’t look like the typical woman who hooks up with football players. I don’t think he’d give two shits about my jean size having two numbers. He wants it. He wants me. Which makes me only want him that much more.
“This dress is killing me,” he says, pushing away the other side of my dress, leaving my breasts exposed in the lace bra I’m wearing.
“Then you should do something about it.”
I watch as Maddox’s eyes glance down to my cleavage then back up to me. He’s biting his lip and I might come from the look he’s giving me alone.
“This dress. How attached to it are you?”
“I’m not. It was a twenty-dollar dress from a fast-fashion website.”
“Perfect answer.”
In a feat of strength I didn’t know existed, Maddox, while still somehow balancing me against the door, rips the center of my dress nearly in half. I mean, it had a deep V, so it was on its way, but the man acted like the fabric did something offensive to him.
“Now that’s better,” he says, pushing the cups of my bra down, spilling my tits over top. “Exactly what I wanted.”
“Fuck!” I yell as I throw my head back, hitting the door, as Maddox takes a nipple into his mouth. The combination of his mouth and tongue, along with his hand as he massages it, is about to send me into an orbit I didn’t know existed. One I’ve never been to without penetration. And one I haven’t been to in a very, and I mean very, long time.
Foreplay with Justin was… what’s a further extent of nonexistent? Sure, many years ago he was all about it. I had a fullchest in high school, and he was a teenage boy. But it never got better. He never paid attention to my breasts. Fingering me was so his dick could slide in. Oral? Ha! That’s a joke.
And don’t ask me if he played with the clit. I think that answer is very apparent.
To say that I’m out of my sexual element right now is the understatement of the year. But the way Maddox is downright worshipping my chest, feasting on my breasts like they’re keeping him alive, is about to make me feel things I didn’t know were possible outside of books and television shows.
“Maddox… how… please… more!”
My words are singular and don’t make sense put together, but somehow he knows what I’m saying. Thank God one of us does.
“See, how I’m thinking,” he trails off, licking around my nipple for good measure. “Is that if it’s been years since you’ve had an orgasm, that means I need to catch you up to speed.”
My breathing picks up as he starts grinding into my already wet center. “I… I’ve never had… multiple.”
“I don’t accept that answer,” he says, crashing my lips for a hard kiss before quickly pulling away. “In fact, I’d like to prove to you how wrong that is.”
Before I can say anything else, he slowly puts me back on the ground, but lowers himself to his knees immediately. I’m in a silent awe as I watch him slide my dress up, and then my silk panties down my legs.
“You’re wet for me, aren’t you, Gabrielle?”
If I wasn’t already, I would be now with the use of my full name and the burning look we’re sharing. “Yes.”
