I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,330

First my skirt, then my panties. Next he fiddled with the buttons of my blouse. He glanced at me, and it was my time to raise my eyebrow at him. “Finding that difficult?” I asked.

Without taking his eyes off me, he ripped my shirt apart. Fuck, that was silk and I’d only worn it three times. “You asshole!”

“Whatever,” he replied, reaching behind me and unhooking my bra. “If I only have tonight, I need to see these,” he said, staring at my chest as he palmed my skin and pulled at my nipples. My back arched into his touch. He was so forceful, so single-minded about sex—just as he was about everything else. To have that focus concentrated on my body was almost too much to bear.

His hands left my breasts and he dragged his palm down across my stomach until his fingers found my clit. I groaned as his thumb circled and pressed, pulling out my pleasure, inch by inch. His fingers stroked at my folds, and I threw my hands over my head, needing him to send me over the edge.

“Max,” I whispered, opening my legs wider, inviting more of him.

“You’re desperate for me. My hand is covered in you.”

I groaned at his dirty mouth. But he was right. I was desperate for him.

“Look at me,” he growled.

I opened my eyes. He wore the same look when he was concentrating at work—as if nothing was going to stop him from getting what he wanted.

He stilled and removed his hand, standing up straight. “I want my cock in your mouth. Please.” His voice was thick with lust.

He’d been getting me worked up to get his dick sucked? He played dirty.

“Now,” he added.

I paused while I thought about my next move. Was I going to give in to him? The thing was, it wasn’t giving in if it was what I wanted. And I did want to have him in my mouth, to make him feel even half of what he made me feel.

I moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Opening my thighs, I tapped the mattress just in front of my pussy. I cocked my head. “You trust me not to bite?”

He chuckled. “Nope. But that just adds to the fun.”

I trailed my nails up his outer thigh, and he tipped his head back on a muffled gasp.

His cock was thick and stood to attention against his stomach. I flickered my gaze from his erection to his eyes, wondering how I was going to handle him. He brushed his thumb over my cheekbone, and I gave him a small smile as I leaned forward, the flat of my tongue connecting with the base of his dick. I dragged it up his shaft.

“Jesus,” he called out.

I swirled my tongue around his head and took just the tip of him in my mouth. I wouldn’t be able to take him deep—he was too big. I circled my hand around his base, gripping him tight. I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a moan from the memory of him inside me, filling me. My nipples pebbled, and he must have been watching because he caught them between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed and pulled, setting off sharp circuits of pleasure from my breasts to my belly button and then lower to my clit.

I took him deeper, my jaw as wide as it would go.

“Yes, like that. That’s how I’ve imagined you.”

I circled again, then took him deeper this time. He groaned, whispering about my mouth and my tongue. His fingers threaded into my hair. Not pushing, not directing, it was as if he just wanted to touch me, to be further connected to me. I pulled back, allowing my teeth to graze his shaft just slightly.

“You’re wicked,” he growled and I pumped his cock with both hands while sucking on his crown. “But it’s not enough.” He lifted my chin and I released my hands. I was more than certain I was giving him a great blow job. What was his problem?

“Open your legs,” he said. Reaching across to his nightstand, he grabbed a condom, sheathing his cock in seconds. “Wider,” he barked, pushing apart my thighs. “I’m going so deep, you’re going to forget what day of the week it is.”

Before I had a chance to argue, he pushed into me. The sheer force of his body, his cock, stole my breath, despite being ready for him and wet with longing. I looked into his eyes, wanting