Falling for Fangs

Maxwell laid her down on his bed, carefully, reverentially, like she was precious to him.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, standing over her. In the dim light, he looked every bit the vampire hero like in one of Julia’s books with his dark hair, his pale skin, his chiselled jawline.

“I am,” Chloe said with a little nod. “I am one hundred per cent, completely, totally, absolutely sure I want this. Do you need me to give you a detailed list of how many times I’ve fantasised about this to convince you?”

Maxwell let out a groan. “As much as I’d like to hear about that, I think it will have to wait.” He stripped off his shirt, and Chloe gasped. Wow, the real Maxwell’s body was even more amazing than the Maxwell of her fantasies. No molten honey, just hard muscle under pale skin, his biceps bulging, muscles of his stomach rippling.

Chloe was well aware she was just sitting there, gawping, her mouth hanging open. She hoped he’d forgive her for that.

“You’re so…” She couldn’t find the words.

“I’m glad you approve,” he said. His words didn’t have their usual casual confidence. It was like he really was glad she approved of him, like her opinion of him truly mattered.

“I don’t see how anyone could think otherwise,” Chloe sat up carefully, and she tugged at the hem of her sweater. “Sorry, I’m in, like, a lot of layers,” she apologised. “It was cold.”

“Allow me to unwrap you then,” Maxwell said, with something of his usual smirk. He peeled off her sweater and the thermal tank she was wearing underneath in one quick movement. When his fingertips touched her bare skin, Chloe let out a cry, her body burning for his touch.

“You’re so beautiful, Chloe,” he murmured, mouthing over her neck once more, sucking, grazing, licking, and sending a fresh rush of heat right between her thighs. “So very beautiful.”

Chloe couldn’t make a sound more coherent than a moan, but Maxwell chuckled as though he understood. When he slipped off her bra (and yes, she had worn a nice one, just in case) and palmed her breasts in his strong hands, she felt like she was about to levitate right off the bed. “God, Maxwell!”

“You’re perfect.” His lips were right by her ear, and when his tongue darted out over the lobe, Chloe pressed her body up into his impatiently. She needed more, or she was going to explode.

“Please!” She tugged at the waistband of his jeans, trying to slide one hand underneath.

But Maxwell caught her hands in his strong grip, holding them above her head. “Nothing you could say or do would make me rush this. I’ve been wanting you way too long. I need to take my time with you, enjoy every single bit of you.”

“We can take it slow next time,” Chloe protested, trying again to press into him. But she liked the way he was holding her tight and wouldn’t let her jump right ahead to the main event.

“Oh, there will be a next time,” Maxwell promised, kissing down her collarbone, making her skin tingle and her breath catch as his mouth moved closer and closer to her painfully hard nipples. “But I only get one first time with you, Chloe. And I want to make the most of it.”

Chloe knew she couldn’t make him hurry this along. There was nothing to do but submit to him. Just like she had always wanted to in every one of her dirtiest fantasies. How many times had she made herself come, calling out his name in the dark of her studio apartment? But none of those fantasies, no matter how vivid, could compare to the reality of the man who was making her crazy with every caress, every kiss.

When Maxwell’s mouth finally closed over one pink nipple, Chloe cried out so loud that she had a brief fear for the antique glass in the windowpanes. But it held firm as she squirmed underneath him, waves of hot, dizzying pleasure sweeping through her as he worked his tongue.

“So good!” she managed to moan, tangling her fingers in his hair. And now he was kissing down, down, down over her stomach, licking over her hipbone, tugging at her jeans. Was he going to—

Maxwell flicked open the button on her jeans and slipped them off in a fluid movement, and Chloe realised with a jolt that he had taken her lacy black thong with them. She was completely naked, utterly bare beneath him. She felt vulnerable in a way she never had before and more turned on than she had ever been in her life.

And Maxwell wasn’t stopping. Kisses melting over her inner thighs, so close to where she was desperately wet and needy for him. He was teasing her, drawing this out on purpose until she writhed and shuddered beneath him, begging for his mouth.

He looked up at her for just a moment, their eyes meeting, and he didn’t break her gaze as he slid his tongue through her wet heat to tease her clit.

“Fuck!” Chloe cried out, throwing her head back and fisting her hands into his sheets. He didn’t stop. Didn’t stop that swirling, circling, maddening dance of his tongue over her clit. Her body was a mess; Chloe was bucking her hips up into him, crying out, swearing, begging. It felt impossibly good, but she knew what she wanted. What she needed. “Please!”

She thought for just a moment that he was going to do it, that he’d rip off his jeans and go to town on her. But instead, he pushed two fingers inside her, curling in against the delicate bundle of nerves. Chloe cried out, screamed, and pushed back into him.

“Slow down, you’re going to make me come!”

“You don’t want to come?” Maxwell broke contact for just a moment to look at her, his eyebrows raised, his lips wet with her. It was impossibly sexy.

“Not yet,” Chloe whispered. “Not until you’re inside me.”

“Are you sure?” He twisted his fingers inside her, making her body shake and writhe. “I could make you come right now. I could.”

“Please,” she begged. “Please! I want you.”

“Can’t say no to that.” Maxwell pushed down his jeans and jocks, throwing them somewhere on the floor. Chloe saw that her fantasies about just how big he might be were totally inadequate. Goddamn, no wonder Maxwell was so confident if he was packing that kind of equipment.

“Do we need…” Chloe began. “I mean, Julia said that vampires can’t—”

“Get you pregnant or anything else?” Maxwell finished, his body pressed against hers, so hard and firm and right. She could feel the hardness of his cock against her inner thigh, and she was beyond desperate to feel him inside her. “That’s true,” he finished. “But if you’d feel more comfortable with—”

“No,” Chloe said firmly, spreading her legs and wrapping them around his back. “No, I just want to feel you.”

“Good,” Maxwell whispered, his forehead pressed against hers. “I’m completely on board with that plan.” He shifted his hips, and the head of his thick cock, impossibly hard, was pressed right against her tight, needy entrance. Chloe squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the moment, but Maxwell rubbed a thumb over her cheek.

“Open your eyes, Chloe,” he said, like it was a command. “I want to see you when I do this.”

Chloe bit her lip, opening her eyes. “I’m ready.” She pressed her hips up into him, wanting to feel him push inside her and fill her up like nothing and no one ever had. If he didn’t, she might actually die.

Finally, just when she was on the verge of begging once more, he pushed inside her in one smooth stroke. All the breath went out of her lungs. It was like nothing else, not just because she was so ridiculously turned on and not just because he was goddamn huge, but because it was him. Maxwell, who she couldn’t stop thinking about. Maxwell, who she had come to care for so much that it scared her. Her Maxwell, inside her body, letting out a sound of deep, guttural pleasure, all for her.

“You feel incredible,” he groaned, moving inside her in slow, careful strokes, letting her get used to his thickness. “Fucking perfect.”

“It’s…” Chloe searched for words. “So good. Too good.”