He picked her up and settled them back on the couch, her naked skim warm and sexy as she curled into him. He stroked his hands along her back and hip, seducing her with his touch until her body gradually relaxed in a way that told him she was finally getting comfortable with the whole naked thing, which was exactly where he needed her to be.
“So about making me feel good…” She glanced up at him, a little shy and a whole lot curious. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, first I thought we’d have more to eat,” he said, doing his best to ignore the fact that he was hard as a rock and she would feel the evidence soon enough. The denim on his jeans was soft when he’d pulled them on, but now it chafed against his swelling cock.
He ignored the discomfort and looked over at the selection of food on the table. Bypassing the real meal, his eyes went directly to dessert. He took the top off of the Nutella sauce that came with the zeppole he’d ordered and slid his finger through the creamy sauce.
“Ooh, a man who goes right for sweets. Be still, my heart.” She placed a hand over his chest instead of her own and sighed dramatically.
He grinned and smeared the treat onto her lower lip, then set about licking her clean, his tongue sliding over and around her mouth before heading inside so she could have a taste. His tongue stroked hers back and forth, deliberately keeping things light.
“Oh, yummy,” she murmured against his mouth.
“My kiss or the Nutella?”
“The Nutella, of course.” She grinned, and his heart beat faster in his chest at the sight.
He had her relaxed and comfortable. Time to up the ante. He grasped her hair and tugged her head back until her gaze met his.
She gasped at the unexpected pull. “Max!”
“Got a problem, princess?” He tugged harder, then sealed his lips over hers, changing the kiss from fun and playful to hard and demanding, controlling her position with his hands in her hair, keeping her neck bent so he could devour her mouth. And she let him, moaning as he staked his claim.
He slid a hand down her neck to her chest, until he reached her nipple and pinched hard. She moaned, squirming against him, clearly enjoying harder play. He knew he did, and watching her fall into the sensations he was giving did something for him, made him feel powerful and so fucking hungry for her.
Lucy’s lips were bruised from Max’s possessive kiss, her nipples aching from his touch, and her entire body was on fire, every nerve ending centered on her pussy. Her sex throbbed; her core felt empty and needy. But Max didn’t seem in any rush to get to the main event.
He dipped his finger into the Nutella and rubbed it over her nipple, the cool sensation a shock to her tender flesh. He bent his head and licked up the creamy spread, his warm breath another stark, contrasting sensation that sent a heated thrill through her.
She couldn’t focus worth a damn, was unable to lift her hands to touch him or reciprocate anywhere, not that he seemed to want it. No, his sole focus was her pleasure and the occasional delicious bite of pain. She’d never experienced anything like it, and he was taking her to sensual places she’d never been before.
Meanwhile, he continued to play, coating her belly button and the trail down to her sex with a dessert she’d never think of the same way again. He set her back on the couch and proceeded to lick it up, his tongue trailing over her skin, her belly undulating of its own accord. With each lap, her sex pulsed hard and desire flashed through her brain. She needed his tongue lower against her clit, making her come, and she tangled her fingers tightly in his hair and pushed his head in an attempt to move things along.
He rewarded her with a nip of his teeth and lifted his head to meet her gaze. There was a bit of Nutella in the corner of his mouth, but before she could call attention to it, he licked it away. And her mouth watered at the sight, her entire body quivering with need.
“You’re a bad girl, princess. I told you that I’m calling the shots.” He rose to a standing position, keeping her in his arms, and strode to his bedroom, dumping her on the center of the bed.
He stood over her, a bare-chested god she wanted to crawl on top of and fuck until she screamed her release. There it was. He’d ramped up her need, had gotten her to the point where all she craved was him. Hot, hard, and thrusting inside her. From the bulge she’d felt while sitting on his lap and the thick outline in his jeans, there was no doubt he had to want the same thing.
“Max, come here.” She crooked a finger his way.
“Not so fast,” he said in that uber-alpha tone she was coming to love, that made her wet and breathless. “First I want to know how much you really want to play.” He eased one hip down on the bed and slid next to her. He lifted her chin with his hand. “You have to know, your answer has nothing to do with how much I want you. You could say no, and I’d be perfectly happy with vanilla sex as long as it was with you.”
“Vanilla?” she asked, confused by his term and aroused by the notion that he had even more in store for her.
“In the club world, vanilla refers to people who have regular sex with… no kink.” He opened the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a pair of padded cuffs. “These are kinky.” He winked while handing them to her to feel.
She swallowed hard, surprisingly turned on by the idea of being bound by him. She ran her hands over the padding on the inside. “You brought these with you?”
He shook his head. “I know more about your fantasy island than you think. Anything I wanted, they were willing to supply.”
He handily hooked one end of the cuffs to the slatted headboard and held the other out to her. “Your choice.”
She didn’t have to think long or hard. Instead she held out her hands. She wanted this with him. Needed it.
“You trust me,” he said gruffly.
“I do.”