“Better than good.”
“Even for à la carte customers, I aim to satisfy,” he said.
She laughed, but her voice sounded shaky.
Then he started to move. His legs were longer than hers, long enough that straddling hers, he could experiment with angles a little, figure out what made her body hum. And then he found it. Her breaths turned to moans, deep and loud with every thrust. Yes, he could do this for her, give her what she wanted.
“Do you feel how hard you make me?” he growled in her ear. “Everything about you turns me on, Natasha. Everything.”
“Oh, Max,” she moaned. “This is so good. I want—”
Max slowed, waiting for the end of the sentence. What did she want? Was it about sex, or was it more? But she didn’t finish. Instead, her body moved and hummed under his, and he found his way deeper inside her, over and over. And still he wanted more. Deep down, he was a selfish bastard, and he wanted it all with this woman.
“Lay your head down,” he rasped. “Let me in deeper. Give me more of you.”
“Always.” Her voiced mingled with her breaths. She came down onto her elbows, lying on her cheek, her ass still up in the air. Her eyes were closed, her mouth parted, gasping, as if she were on the brink of ecstasy. Even if this had to end, this moment was theirs. Real.
“Oh, baby, I want you,” he groaned, his hips moving faster. “Natasha.”
She cried out as he spoke her name, meeting each thrust, gasping, saying his name over and over. She came, clenching around his cock, setting off bursts of pleasure through him. He needed to come, and this time he wasn’t going to stop that urge.
His body went rigid as his cock went off. Max dropped down to his elbows and let go, sinking his teeth into the tender slope of her neck. Her pussy tightened again as she bucked beneath him, wailing, “Yes, Max, yes,” the words branding into him as the waves of pleasure shot through him. There was nothing else except Natasha.
Slowly, the rest of the world came into focus. The rustle of the palm trees, the squawks of birds, the soft lull of the ocean.
He lifted his mouth from her shoulder and looked down at the red bite mark.
“Shit,” he muttered. “I bit you again. Hard.”
“Hard enough that the whole island probably heard me,” she whispered. “It was amazing.”
He kissed the spot, then turned her over to study her face. Her gray eyes were still a little unfocused, and a languid smile played at her lips, but her forehead wrinkled a little. Was she turning over his words in her mind, just like he was?
Then she smiled up at him as if there was nothing more that she needed in the world. Just him. And it was so goddamn tempting to believe it. To push aside all the reasons to the contrary and promise that he was the one for her.
She blinked up at him, her smile fading. Natasha lifted her hand and stroked his cheek, and he closed his eyes and let everything else fade away except her touch. She stroked his jaw, her hand moving back and forth over the stubble. Her fingers trembled as they moved over his lips. When he opened his eyes again, she was staring up at him with a crease running across her brow, as if she were studying him. Memorizing him.
“How long until the boat comes?” asked Alya, rolling her suitcase to the bedroom door.
Natasha looked up from the pile of clothes in front of her and glanced at her watch. “A little more than thirty minutes.”
“I’ll be by the pool if you need me.”
Natasha blinked up at her sister. “You’re already packed?”
“Yep. You’d be packed, too, if you hadn’t been staring at your suitcase for the last twenty minutes.” Her sister looked out their door, in the direction of the other bedroom. “Is everything okay between you and Max?”
Natasha frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Her sister shrugged. “Your mind is somewhere else, and he just seems a little...subdued. For Max.”
“We’re fine. Nothing’s changed.” That was the problem. Everything felt different now, but nothing had really changed. She would return to Sydney, pretending that Max had not turned her entire world upside down on Green Island. She bit her lip and looked down at her half-packed suitcase before Alya could read any more into her expression. “I’ll be out in a bit.”
Alya didn’t leave. She stood by the door, her eyes still fixed on Natasha, as if she had more to say. Natasha turned away, shoving shirts and socks into her suitcase, and a few moments later her sister’s footsteps shuffled out. At the sound of the door, her shoulders slumped.
God, she was a mess. Earlier, neither of them had said a word as she’d slowly pulled her clothes on, but his touch had been gentle, soothing.
After just a few days in paradise, Max had succeeded in slipping through every protection she had built around herself, and the crazy want for him was building up in her. Was she falling in love with Max Jensen, Australia’s notorious heartbreaker, all Illana Petrova style? God, no. She couldn’t be.
