Five hours later, after a long game where Max went four-for-six with three RBIs, one double, and one run where he blew me a kiss as he crossed home plate, we’re frantically ripping clothing off as we enter Max’s apartment. Well, I guess I can call it my apartment too. Or, more accurately, our apartment. If it’s our bathroom, I can take ownership over the whole thing.
“Take everything off, but put my jersey back on,” Max mumbles as he sucks on my pulse point. “I’ve dreamed about fucking you in this for months.”
Well, that’s hot. I try to unbutton my shorts, but Max picks me up, plopping me on the island. Stepping between my legs, he grabs the hem of my tank top, pulling it and my bra cup down, then immediately covers my nipple with his mouth, laving the tip as he sucks hard. I moan loudly, holding his head tightly against my chest. I love how passionate he is. There are times when Max is gentle and sensual, but this side of him, where I know he’s close to losing control because he needs me that badly, is my favorite.
“Can’t decide where I want to fuck you,” he rasps. “Right here on the island? In the shower? Against the door? Too many choices. What do you want, baby?”
I think for a moment, struggling to breathe as he switches back and forth between my breasts. Then I have a moment of inspiration. “I want to recreate that night in Chicago.”
Max’s head pops up. “The window?”
I nod, then point to my bag, which was discarded by the door. “With the blindfold.”
He smiles devilishly. “My sweet girl. You’re discovering all kinds of kinks with me, aren’t you?”
Max retrieves the blindfold, then returns to me, throwing me over his shoulder. “Max! This wasn’t part of that night!”
“I’m improvising. Pretty sure I had you over my shoulder at some point that night,” he says as he strides across the room. Once he sets me on my feet, he pantomimes me spinning around. “Spin, and take your shorts off.”
I give him a pointed look. “Pretty sure you took off my pants that night, Ground Man.”
He chuckles as he turns me, carefully tying the blindfold around my head. “We don’t have to get every detail the same, baby. Let’s just have some fun.”
I turn toward his voice. “Promise you’ll fuck me as hard as you did that night, okay?”
Max groans. “God damn, Layla. I fucking love when your sweet little voice says the dirtiest things.”
Unbuttoning my shorts before unzipping them, Max carefully slides a hand into my thong. He pulls the fabric to the side, then slips his knee between my legs, widening them. I let out a loud moan when he brushes the edge of my clit, making a light figure eight move where he only barely touches me. I lose track of time as he plays with me, a sheen of perspiration covering my skin as my legs shake with need. “Max, please.”
“Please, what, sweet girl?” he asks, his voice gruff.
I laugh breathily. “I love that you only call me sweet girl when we’re having sex.”
“You’re sweetest when you know an orgasm is in the cards.”
“Then please make me come so I can return the favor by getting you in my mouth,” I reply, and Max’s hand flexes against my pussy, immediately giving my clit direct contact. I moan loudly in pleasure, stars bursting behind my eyelids as bliss zings across my skin. He rubs and rubs, his speed measured, and I reach back to grab around his neck. There’s something about this whole experience. The blindfold, the window, his hand doing dirty things to me under my clothes. It’s unbelievably erotic, and on that thought, I come quickly, forgetting to breathe as the climax rips through me. Max holds me up as shudders rack my body.
Once I regain feeling in my extremities, I turn in Max’s arms. Without speaking, I begin removing his pants and boxers. Carefully kneeling, as my legs are still a little wobbly, I drag his clothes down slowly, letting my fingernails scratch along his thighs. Muscles and tendons ripple underneath my touch, and I marvel at how amazinghis body feels. I slide a hand up onto his abs, counting eight of them, then drag back down to cup his length. Silently, I bring the tip to my mouth, listening as his breathing quickens.
Twirling my tongue around the tip, Max’s hand finds my hair, winding it around his fist, and his other hand hits the window behind me. God, this must be a remarkable sight. I bet he looks like pure masculinity right now, about to take what he wants, controlling me every step of the way, and I’m so here for it.
“Open your mouth,” he growls, his voice thick and gruff with desire. As soon as I do, he moves forward, sliding his cock along my tongue. “Now be a good girl and suck.”
I do as he asks, hollowing my cheeks as I move my mouth up and down, enjoying the salty flavor of his pre-cum as it hits my taste buds. Max begins to control the tempo, pushing and pulling me along his length, growling every time he hits the back of my throat. The sounds he makes are turning me on, and I slip my hand between my legs to touch myself.
“You’ve never looked sexier, baby girl,” he croaks, keeping with the tempo. “You on your knees, touching yourself, knowing you’re gonna get fucked in a minute. Can’t wait to bury myself inside of you, Layla. Cover you with my cum.”
I moan around his dick, sliding a finger inside my channel, needing something to take the edge off. I just came, but I’m so turned on I feel like I might burst. He’s made me feral for him, and I’m loving every minute of it.
Max bottoms out, holding me against his groin, groaning as my throat constricts around him, before pulling out completely. “I need to fuck you.”
Pouting, I say, “I wanted you to come in my mouth.”
“Another time,” he replies brusquely. “I can’t finish in your mouth today. It’s a momentous day, and needs to be commemorated with good old-fashioned fucking.”
I’m unceremoniously pulled to stand, then thrown over Max’s shoulder again. He slaps my ass lightly, then rubs the spot. “I don’t think I liked that, Max.”
“Okay. Thank you for telling me. I won’t do it again.” I feel the air change as we enter the bedroom, and he drops me on the bed.
