I want more.
His lips are softer than I expected, yet demanding. His tongue strokes mine in a way that makes my knees weak.
I cling to his chest with one hand, the other sliding up to grip his shoulder, so I don’t fall. He groans into my mouth when I tentatively suck on his tongue, and the sound sends a rush of wetness between my thighs.
When he finally pulls back, we’re both panting. His eyes are dark, almost black with desire as he stares down at me.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the first fucking day I saw you,” he rasps.
The confession hits me like a shockwave. I can barely breathe.
He leans in again, brushing his lips against mine in a teasing graze. “You have no idea what you do to me, Calina.”
His voice drops even lower, filthy and rough. “I should punish you for messing with my head. For starting a fight, the second I walked through the door when I was already bleeding. I have so many ideas on how to punish this pretty little body of yours… starting with bending you over and spanking that perfect ass until it’s red and you’re soaked and begging.”
The words should offend me. Instead, my pussy clenches hard at the thought. I remember how it felt when he spanked me before, the sharp sting, the heat, the way my body had reacted so shamefully. I want it again. I want him to do it again.
He kisses me again, slower this time, like he’s savoring me. His hands roam down my body, cupping my breasts through my tank top, thumbs brushing over my hardened nipples.
I arch into his touch with a whimper. One hand slides lower, slipping under the waistband of my shorts. I’m not wearing panties. His fingers find my soaked folds and he groans against my lips.
“So fucking wet for me already,” he murmurs, rubbing slow circles over my clit. I buck against his hand, desperate for more friction. “Has anyone ever been here?”
I give a shake of my head, and he growls. “All mine. I want to see all of you.”
God help me… I want him to see everything too.
I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me, like I’m his next meal. Maybe it’s the storm of emotions that’s been building for days. Or maybe I’ve simply lost my mind.
Before I can second-guess myself, I reach down, grab the hem of my top, and pull it over my head. The cool air hits my bare breasts, making my nipples tighten instantly.
I drop the shirt to the floor, standing topless in front of him, heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.
Maxim’s eyes darken to near black. He stares at me like I’m a revelation, like he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life. A low, reverent curse slips from his lips.
“Fuck… you’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasps, voice thick with raw hunger.
The sincerity in his tone makes something warm bloom in my chest. I know he means it. Every word.
His hands slide up my sides as he brings his mouth to mine again. The kiss is deeper this time, more urgent.
Then his lips trail down, along my jaw, down the column of my neck, leaving a path of fire. When he reaches my breasts, he groans and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard before gently biting down.
A moan escapes me. My back arches, pushing my breast further into his mouth as pleasure shoots straight between my legs.
I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him there. My other hand runs over his shoulder, careful not to press on his injury, on his ribs, tracing the hard muscle beneath his skin.
He switches to the other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention while one of his hands slips under the waistband of my pajama shorts. His fingers find my soaked folds and he groans against my breast.
“I've been thinking about you all day,” he murmurs, rubbing slow, teasing circles over my clit.
He has? I’ve been thinking about him too.
I buck against his hand, desperate for more. The pleasure is building fast, overwhelming. I want him. I want all of him. Right now.
Just then, the bedroom door bursts open.
“Boss —”
