Song for the Dead (Ada Palomino 2)

“Fuck!” I cry out softly, head going back. I clench around his finger as his mouth sucks and licks and makes my thighs tremble from the inside out. My fingers are gripping the sheets and I manage to uncurl them, reaching down for his head. I wrap my fingers around his thick strands and hold tight, knowing I’m about to go off.

Give his hair a tug.

He moans into me, the vibrations ricocheting through my core, then proceeds to eat me out like he’s been starving for me, and that’s when I realize he might be getting as much out of this as I am. Perhaps I’m pure fuel. I won’t stop him from getting his fill.

Except that he’s deeply skilled and my body is a hair trigger. A twist of his tongue and I can’t hold back any longer.

I come hard in his mouth, my hips bucking up against his face, my thighs squeezing his head as he tries to consume every last drop of me, feasting greedily until I’m lying back on the bed. Floating, boneless, nothing but a manic heart trying to escape from my ribs.

I open my eyes and Max appears above me, his shoulders and chest so wide and encompassing they block the view of the ceiling, making me feel like we’re together in an endless plane. The length of him over me, his skin kissing mine, spurs on a new type of hunger, and I press my hands on his back, pulling him down, wanting to feel crushed by the weight of him.

He brushes my hair off my face, his fingers fast and jittery with need and quickly kisses me. He tastes like me, his mouth so wet, so messy, and my hands run down until they meet his bare ass. I dig my nails in, pulling him against me, realizing he got his briefs off at some point.

I slip my hand between us as he continues to suck at my neck, hissing into my ear as I grab hold of his cock, desperately feeling the width and length of him.

I’m in trouble.

After groping him back in the California desert, I had zero doubt he was blessed in this department, especially since he’s such a big beast of a man to begin with, but holy hell, I really don’t think he’s going to fit. I’m fairly tiny. He’s huge with a capital H.

“Ada,” Max moans into my skin. “Easy now. Fuck.”

I grin to myself, gripping him tighter, biting my lip. God, I can’t wait to see him come.

He pulls back, breathing hard, capturing my lips in another quick, hard kiss, fucking me with his tongue before he leans back, surveying me before he gets himself into position.

One hand goes on my inner thigh, bracing himself as he grips his cock with the other. Sweat beads in the determined creases of his brow and he’s staring down at me, as if waiting for my cue.

I watch him, sucking in my lip, and I guess that’s enough of a cue for him.

His grip on my thigh becomes bruising as he guides the tip of his cock against me, slowly teasing me, the sound slick, making me squirm with desperation.

He licks his lips, gazing at me under heavy lids, and as he inhales sharply through his nose, he slowly pushes himself inside me.

God…fuck…this…

I gasp, my eyes pinching closed.

I’m seizing up, the feeling taking over my body as he squeezes inside me, a tighter than tight fit, and I’m trying to relax, to let him stretch me wider and wider until I nearly feel split in two.

He stills when his body is flush with mine and I can’t breathe. He’s all I feel. So big, he takes up all the space inside me and then some, like he’s penetrating my heart at the same time.

I’m overwhelmed. He’s too much for me. This is too much for me.

“Are you okay?” he whispers roughly.

I open my eyes, seeing him stare at me with a mix of fevered lust and concern.

I can barely nod. “Yes,” I say, choked. “Go slow.”

He swallows, his eyes blinking yes, and with a shuddering breath slowly pulls out.

Already his absence has me greedy.

He grinds his teeth, pushing his cock back in and this time my body is ready, wanting him, needing him. I stretch to take him, he fills up all my empty space, and suddenly there’s a connection, like something finally clicks into place.

He shudders out a long breath, slowly pulls back, pushes back in, and each time he does it, I watch his expression, watch the determination on his brow, the way he’s trying so hard to stay in control, how badly he wants to let go.

He’s so good.

This is so good.

He fucks me with confidence, like he knows me, like we’ve done this before, and yet also we’re doing it for the first time. He commands my attention, not just from my eyes as I take him in, or from my fingertips as they coast down the hard muscled expanse of his back, or from my body which squeezes around him. But from some intangible part of me deep beneath, a part of me that’s primal and instinctual and slowly growing obsessed.