he grunts. “A fuckin’ dress that’s makin’ my dick hard, right before my fight.”
Oh boy.
“I . . . ah . . . this old thing?”
Oh my God, I just made a squeaking sound. Someone shoot me. And did I just say this old thing? Shit. He’s making me nervous.
“That old thing? Fuck, I’d hate to see what your new clothes look like, if that’s old.”
“I don’t want to distract you, so I’ll, um, leave. I just wanted to let you know I was here.”
“You blushing, sweetheart?”
I shiver and look into his dark brown eyes, which are swirling with lust.
“No,” I squeak again.
Someone shoot me.
He steps forward and holy shit, his abs just flexed. They’re calling me. It’s torture, pure torture.
“Haven’t seen you blush like that since the first time I started talking to you.”
“Yeah,” I scoff, but it’s pathetic. “Well, I haven’t, ah, you know, seen you, ah . . .”
Jesus. Get. It. Together.
He chuckles. “I think you’re nervous, because you know how hard I want to fuck you right now, and you’re fighting it as much as I am.”
I look up again, and I can feel the heat in my face as I stare down at what is, without a doubt, a straining cock. Oh boy.
He steps closer again. I step back.
“I thought we weren’t, um, fucking?”
He grins, and he looks like a wolf about to lunge at its prey.
“We weren’t, but then you chose to wear that dress. How the hell am I going to fight when all I can see is you? Not to mention this.” He palms his dick and I have to clench my thighs together, or I’ll moan out loud and embarrass myself more.
“You could deal with that,” I point out breathlessly.
“Absolutely, by plunging it deep in your cunt.”
Holy shit.
“Or there’s your hand,” I stammer.
His grin gets bigger. “When I’ve got my wife’s tight, sweet body in that fucking amazing dress standing right in front of me? I don’t think so.”
“But . . . we’re . . . going slow . . . remember . . .”
Jesus.
I’m losing my shit.
“I can go slow.”
Oh crap.
He reaches out and catches me around the waist, hauling me forward. I cry out and my hands fly up to land against his chest. His skin is hot and I swear, oiled. It’s slick and I want to do nothing more than lower my head and suck his nipples into my mouth until he groans. Holy shit. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Max,” I say, and it comes out as a moan.
“You know you don’t want to fight this as much as I don’t’ want to fight this, so give in, Blue Belle. Let me fuck you the way we both want it.”
Screw it.
I’m all in for that.
I let anything I was holding back go, and shove my mouth against his, kissing him hard. He tastes like Max and a little bit of peppermint. Yum. He groans and his tongue dances with mine as our hands start roaming each other’s bodies. I need more of him—hell, I need to taste his nipples like I wanted to only seconds earlier.
I pull my mouth from his and lower my head, capturing his nipple in my mouth and sucking hard, loving the little piercings there. He grunts loudly and curses, tangling his hands in my hair and shoving his chest harder against my mouth. He likes it. Oh God, I like it. I suck harder until he’s pulling my hair so hard it pinches, but I don’t care. I roll his hard, small nipple around in my mouth until I can feel his cock pressing against my body, hard and ready.
I release his nipple, and before he can protest I drop to my knees and jerk his shorts down. They go easily, being that they’re loose and elastic at the top. His cock springs free and I take it in my hand, squeezing softly before lowering my mouth and taking it in, deep and hard, straight off the mark.
“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he hisses.
I suck him deep, loving how he tastes, missing how he tastes. I swirl my tongue around and around, reaching up and taking his balls into my hand, squeezing them. I’m out of control—I know this, but I don’t care. I want every bit of him, and I want it for as long as I live.
“If you keep doin’ that, I’ll come. Stand up.”
He pulls me up and I lick my lips as I stare into his eyes. He reaches