Page 33 of Written with Love

“Stay here tonight,” he blurted out quickly.

Her head jerked towards him, and her eyebrows arched as her eyes met his.

“I mean, if you want,” he added, suddenly feeling stupid. He opened his mouth to say something else, anything else, but before he could, she rushed towards him and placed her lips over his.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said against his mouth. “Max?”

“Hmm?” he mumbled against her neck as he rained tiny kisses over her heated skin.

“Take me upstairs.”

He stilled at her words. “I still don’t really have a bed.” He frowned at her.

She chuckled and shrugged. “Then take me to the sofa.”

“I should have thought—” he started, but she stopped him by placing her lips over his.

“Stop thinking,” she whispered. “I don’t need a bed. Honest.” She proved it by moving over him and straddling his lap while her mouth brushed over his. “All I need is you,” she added as his hands moved over her hips and then further up, slowly. He held onto her.

The force of what she was doing to him almost knocked him down. So many times in his life he’d chased this exact feeling, with so many disappointments. Now, here, with her, he knew that he’d found that missing piece that had been so elusive.

Her nails scraped against his skin as she pulled his shirt from him. Then she ran her fingertips over his skin, exploring every muscle slowly.

He explored her as well, running his hands up and down her sides, her hips, enjoying her curves and the soft feeling of her body rubbing against his.

The speed quickened. The desire doubled. Neither of them could move fast enough.

When his patience ran out and he wanted—no, needed—more, he hoisted her up and carried her to the sofa with her legs wrapped around his hips.

He laid her down on the sofa, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. This time, her kiss was soft, tender, and spoke of her wants.

The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint her. Keeping their lips connected, he started removing her clothes as she continued to tug at his.

Her shirt disappeared, then their shoes, followed by their pants, until they were lying together in just their undergarments. The sexy, soft pink material that covered her made his mouth water.

Dipping low, he ran his mouth over it, wetting it, enjoying the way her nipples puckered underneath. When he nudged the material aside and took her into his mouth, she arched as her fingers dug into his hair.

When he cupped her, she cried out his name and stilled.

He’d never experienced anything like it before in his life.

“Max,” she sighed, and pulled him back up to her mouth. “Don’t make me wait.”

“No,” he agreed and then felt around for his jeans and the condom he kept in his wallet. She leaned up and quickly removed her bra and panties while he sheathed himself.

Then he shifted lower and settled between her thighs, his lips covering her pussy. Her nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him down towards her. He took his time, enjoying the taste of her, building her back up, enjoying the soft sounds she was making as she rubbed her body against his.

His fingers were slick as he slid in and out of her slowly. Her hips circled with each thrust.

“Juliette,” he growled against her skin, “you’ll be the death of me.” He shifted up to cover her again and she laughed.

“You make me feel alive,” she said, pulling back and locking eyes with him. “No one has ever made me feel like this before.”

He nodded in agreement, too consumed by what she was doing to him to string words together. Fear of saying the wrong thing spiked.

He’d never been at a loss of words. This was the first time. Yeah, no one had ever made him feel like this before either.

When her nails dug into his hips, forcing him closer to her, he went willingly, slipping into her like they were meant for one another.