His handsome, stern face lit then, not only the fire of lust in his eyes but a warmth, a wonder at my acceptance of him, at how much I wanted him as well.
“I’ve wanted you this way forever, since the first time you came in the diner and sent your food back.”
He surprised me, rolled me beneath him and laced our fingers together, pressing my hands to the mattress on either side of my head.
His mouth blazed down my neck and over my breast. My breath was coming so fast I was dizzy. When he mouthed my nipple, licking and sucking, I arched my back, my head tossing back and forth on the sheets with the needy thread of pleasure that was building in me, a pull in my belly and a throb between my legs. I tried to say his name but I stuttered. He released one of my hands to run it down my body. His calloused hand was coarse on my heated skin as it slid down between my legs. I writhed at his slightest touch, felt my cheeks flush and my free hand reached for his.
It was then that he kissed me again, that the rasp of his beard against my neck was both a tickle and a stimulating buzz on my skin. I held on to him, my palms on his back as his muscles flexed and bunched under my hands. He settled his narrow hips between my thighs. I could feel the wet, fevered tip of his cock nestled against my sex, and the wetness, the face that he was wet for me, made me press against him. He groaned out loud and flexed his hips slightly, just breaching my entrance with his thick cock. My eyes were wide as they met his. He held himself above me, control in every line of his frown. He rocked into me deeper and I gasped.
“Yes, yes, that,” I babbled. “You feel so good to me, Max. Why has it never felt this good before?”
“I’m just that good,” he smirked and thrust his hips, a short, sharp shove that brushed something inside me. It set me moaning and grappling at his back, my short nails scratching him.
He looked pleased at that response and eased in even further. I started to wonder if his cock was endless, if there was any way I could take all of him. I tried to catch my breath, but I felt dizzy. The pressure of Max’s penetration, the size of him, was making me lightheaded. I bucked my hips, determined to hold all of him. That surprised him, and he thrust in higher than he meant to, because concern was on his face. I bit my lip, but I was grinning. This was so good, and it was only going to get better.
He drew all the way out of me, my wet folds clinging to him. Then he thrust forward, piercing me deeply. I cried out and bowed up off the bed with the force of his penetration. It felt so good, so complete. I swallowed hard, convinced I could feel him in the back of my throat, in my belly, everywhere. We were joined together now, and our bodies were one. I looked at him shyly and saw that his head had gone back as if just entering me were ecstasy. Each time he withdrew and then sheathed himself in me was white-hot pleasure, a blaze of delicious satisfaction rippling through me.
Before long, my legs were wrapped around him, and he had slid an arm under the small of my back so he could hold me, tilt my body so he could get just the right angle. And it was definitely the right one, because I started moaning whenever he thrust inside me, the head of his cock pressing a place that set me shuddering and made my legs stiffen and my back arch with a shot of bliss. His lips fastened on my nipple, sucking, and then moved to my neck. His thrusts grew uneven, heavier and more staccato. I loved it because it meant he was losing his grip on that iron control, he was going hard, doing just what felt good to him, and I craved that, craved the chance to give him the kind of fiery pleasure he’d given me.
His broad shoulders, his muscular body covered me, his weight resting on one arm as if he were doing the world’s sexiest push-ups. I rolled my hips in rhythm with his, felt the twist of his cock inside me as I moved. I loved seeing the shock on his face, the reaction to my own desire. “Yes,” I told him. “More.”
Max turned us, so fast I wasn’t sure what had happened. I was straddling his lap, speared by his cock, and he had one arm banded around the small of my back, one hand on my thigh, spreading my legs farther apart. Before I could worry about what I was supposed to do on top of him, he started working me up and down the length of his cock, lifting my hips, sliding a hand up the inside of my thigh to play with my sensitive outer folds, thumbing my clit even as he pumped into me with a firm, decisive stroke. My arms were around his neck and it was so intimate, to be face to face with him, in his lap, his fingers on my sex and his big cock moving inside me. In no time, I was panting, whimpering.