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He lifted his feet for her to whip this last piece of clothing away. His hands were tangled in her hair, wanting to tug her upright again, but Chloe paused, drawn to do what Tony had always expected of her although with Max she really wanted to, swirling her tongue around the swollen head of his penis, encircling it with her lips, drawing it slowly into her mouth, savouring the tight, velvety skin.
‘No, don’t!’ Max cried out, bending to grab her arms and haul her up to face him, his eyes glittering with agonised need.
Confused by his rejection of the intimacy, Chloe gabbled out, ‘I’m sorry. I thought you’d like it. Tony …’
‘I’m not Tony!’ he said savagely. ‘I don’t want to be serviced by you, Chloe. I want you. And I’m so on fire for you, if I let you keep doing that … yes, I like it but not now. Not when I want all of you first.’
Again he crushed her to him, moving to the bed, kneeling over her as he lowered her onto it, passionate purpose blazing from his eyes. ‘I want to feel all of you, taste all of you, know all of you, watch your face as we come together.’
Her mind reeled at the intensity of his desire for her. She felt it resonating through her in the ravaging depth of his kiss, in the way he set her on fire when he sucked on her breasts, her back arching to the intoxicating heat of his mouth, her flesh burning under his mouth as he moved it slowly, erotically, down her body, her stomach tightening with almost painful tension when he reached the apex of her thighs, parting her legs, stroking the soft hidden folds of her sex, kissing her there, licking her most sensitive place with delicate flicks of his tongue, an exquisite torture that she could hardly bear but didn’t want stopped.
She lay with her hands clenched at her sides, trying to hold on, feeling her insides quivering towards some cataclysmic meltdown. Her eyes were closed, every ounce of concentration focused on what was happening to her. She forgot to breathe until her chest grew so tight it threatened to burst and she sucked in quick little gusts of air. It had never been like this for her, never, never, never … so incredible, so agonisingly blissful.
She felt the last threads of her control starting to snap, tension breaking up, trembling on the edge of chaos, and her hands uncurled and flew into his hair, fingers scrabbling, pulling, wildly insistent words pouring from her mouth. ‘Stop … please … you must … I need you to come into me now … now …’ His strength filling her before she fell apart … his power making everything right …
He surged up, plucking her hands from his hair, slamming them into the pillow on either side of her head. ‘Look at me, Chloe!’ he commanded.
Her body was frantically poised for more direct action, her head threshing around in mindless need, but her eyes did snap open and she tried to focus on the face looming over hers—a harshly strained face, a darkly handsome face, with brilliant black eyes blazing down at her, demanding something from her, she didn’t know what, couldn’t think, but his name spilled from her lips in a husky cry of need.
‘Max …’
‘Yes …’ It sounded like a rasp of satisfaction, then another command. ‘Wrap your legs around me, Chloe. Take me as I take you.’
Her legs felt weak and shaky. Max released her hands and helped her, lifting her knees, and then it was easy, her ankles hooking together.
Holding him, having him encircled by her legs, actively offering the other more intimate encirclement … it felt wickedly wonderful, and she was dying to take him, all of him.
‘Keep your eyes open,’ he insisted.
She stared up at him, willing him to go on, desperate for him to give himself to her. A gasp fell from her lips as she felt his hard flesh push slowly into her slippery softness. Her inner muscles started convulsing, urgently wanting him deeper. Her heart was going crazy, heat racing through her veins, her face aglow with it, her whole body simmering, seething towards some unimaginable flash-point.
He went deeper. Her chest tightened up. She panted for breath. Her head felt as though it was splitting apart. Her eyes glazed over, losing their focus. And still he moved further inside her, deeper than she’d ever experienced, and it was so achingly sweet to be filled with him, so … Her head arched back and a cry tore from her throat as everything inside her seemed to erupt in an ecstatic fountain of exquisite pleasure. Her head swam into a blissfully dreamy state and she looked at Max, who had done this amazing thing, her eyes filled with awed wonder.
He smiled a slow benevolent smile, his dark brilliant eyes tenderly caressing her as he leaned down and filled her mouth with his in a long, delicious kiss that heightened the lovely sensations floating through her.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered as he drew back.
He shook his head, his eyes still smiling. ‘It’s not over.’
He started rocking back and forth inside her with a gentle rhythm, watching her face, and to Chloe’s astonishment the floating sea of pleasure he had taken her to gathered waves that rolled through her, building up to one ecstatic peak after another, not as explosive as the first, but just as glorious in the intensity of feeling. And her heart swelled with love for him and what he was doing to her.
She watched his face as the surges inside her became more powerful, the rhythm faster, the smile swallowed up by tension, the need for release turning his eyes an opaque black. He threw his head back, too, and cried out as the shuddering spasms of climax sent their flood of pleasure through him.
His chest was heaving for breath as he collapsed forward, arms burrowing under her, rolling onto his back and carrying her with him, holding her in a fiercely possessive embrace. She lay with her head tucked under his chin, her hand spread over his thundering heart, her legs limply sprawled over his, and felt a strange wave of tenderness, wanting to soothe him into the same lovely sense of contentment he’d given her. Was it over now, she wondered, or was this the beginning of an intimacy that would move her life to a place she had never imagined?
Her mind drifted to the image she had once had of him—Maximilian Hart, the powerful, ruthless, intimidating mover and shaker who always got what he wanted. The master player. He’d moved her, shaken the whole foundations of her world, but what, in the end, did he want with her?
Right now, Chloe couldn’t bring herself to care.
She loved being with him like this.
And she was going to revel in it as long as it lasted.
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