Maxim (Carolina Reapers 10)

“You’re slacking,” she whispered, turning back toward me and walking over slowly, her hips swaying with every step. “Tell me what to do, Maxim.” She trailed a finger from her throat down her sternum and between her breasts. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Evangeline,” I whispered as she took the camera. I ducked my head so she could slide the strap off, and she turned to put it on my nightstand.

“You’re the only one who calls me that.” She stroked her hand up my chest, and the light touch sent electricity through every cell. “Why? And don’t tell me it’s because that’s my name. I know my name.”

“This is dangerous.” And yet my hand slid up the back of her neck to tangle in her curls.

“Why do you call me that?” She hooked her fingers in the waistband of my warm-up pants.

“I promised you that I’d stop if you said no, and you’re making it really hard to keep that promise.” I barely recognized my own voice.

“Maybe you’re too busy worrying about a no to realize that I’m saying yes,” she whispered and tugged. My pants fell, catching briefly on my thighs before surrendering all the way to the ground.

“This could end badly.” I stepped out of them, my body performing on auto-pilot and kicking off my socks, too.

“Something tells me you know what you’re doing in this department. After all, I have it on expert advice that I’m supposed to know these things before a guy ever takes off his pants, and after last week, I know.” She swallowed. “Now tell me why you call me by my full name.”

“I’m not going to stop,” I warned her. “You touch me again, and I’ll have you on your back, Evangeline. Stripped naked. Panting. Moaning. Screaming for me. Do you understand?” My cock throbbed in agreement as my gaze lowered to her lips.

“I understand.” Both of her hands were on my waist, her fingers following the indent of my muscles.

“I’m not going to stop until I’m inside you, and I don’t just mean my tongue or my fingers.” The grip on my control was slipping, sliding away until I couldn’t remember why this would be such a bad idea. I wanted her. She obviously wanted me.

“I understand,” she repeated, and both her hands clasped my dick through my boxer briefs.

A groan ripped free from my throat and I reached for her wrists, tugging her hands away from me. “You keep that up and it will be over before it starts.”

“Are you saying I only get this once?” A flash of something—panic—went through her eyes.

“Fuck no. I’m going to take you so many times and in so many ways that you’ll feel me with every step you take for weeks,” I promised in a growl. “But the first time I come, it’s going to be inside you.”

“And the first time I come?” she teased with a shaky smile, her breaths uneven.

“Is right now.” I gripped her ass in both hands and captured her mouth with mine, kissing her deep and hard, fucking my tongue into her mouth with deliberate strokes as I picked her up and turned.

She whimpered and my cock leaked, the wetness seeping through my boxers, I wanted her that badly.

I laid her out on my bed and then followed her in, sliding right into the cradle of her open thighs. Our mouths met again and again, and I groaned when she sucked on my tongue. If kissing her was heaven, then I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to slide inside her.

I rocked my hips against hers, grinding my dick against her clit, using the fabric between us to up the friction, and she moaned, throwing her head back on the pillows.

“So fucking beautiful.” Her hair spread out against the dark bedding, and her lips were already bee-stung from my kisses. I worked my way down her throat, nipping and sucking, pausing to linger when she gasped, memorizing what she liked.

When she arched, I flicked open the clasp of her bra with one hand, and tugged it down her arms, sending it to the floor.

Then I fucking stared. And stared. And stared some more. Her breasts were perfect. They’d overflow my hands, and those pale pink nipples? They were created for my mouth, my hands.

“Maxim?” She pushed up on her elbows and looked up at me in confusion.

“Never cover these up again. Ever.” I lowered my mouth to one perfect tip and she gasped as my tongue swirled over the peak.

“You want. Me. Naked in. Public?” she asked, her breaths choppy as I tested one pebbled nipple in my teeth.

“Only at home,” I clarified. I’d fucking murder anyone else who got close to these, to her. “Always topless at home.”

“You’re a breast guy,” she teased, her fingers in my hair, her nails scratching my scalp in the best way. “Noted.”