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“Max.”My voice is sharp, straight to the point, the same way it always has been with him. I’m not sure how we’ve gone from talking about each other to him sitting with his glorious chest out and my knickers wetter than the entire river Thames. But we’ve waited so long to kiss each other like that that maybe it’s just inevitable. Maybe it’s the time it’s taken to finally let this happen, but something feels a bit forbidden about the whole thing. Like we both know we really shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not quite taboo now, but it should have been all the time we’ve known each other.
And then there’s still that niggle eating at my brain. I think it’s why I’ve just stood from his arms, because I’m still me and he’s still him. A god of a man. A god of rock. And I’m plain old me. Not the normal queen that enters his bedroom. I go to the gym, yeah, but I’m a human not a Barbie doll. I’m thirty-four. I have a belly, legs, I mean I wouldn’t quite call them thunder thighs, but they certainly don’t have a gap between them. My curves go on for days, days more than they really should. I let my hand tease behind my back, I tug the zipper of my dress. I can hear the noise of it over the music. I shut my eyes as I pull it down and my dress drops to the floor. I keep my eyes clenched shut as I hear Max’s heavy breath over the music.
“Ali,” he stammers. “Ali, you’re fucking beautiful.”
“I’m not the usual super model that enters your bedroom,” I admit as my fingers find my bra and unclasp it to drop it to the floor. Opening my eyes to look over at him. He stands up and his confident stride brings him towards me. His head dipped low, face straight to mine. His hands connecting with my sides moving my hands with his own so I’m no longer covering my modesty.
“Angel, I’m glad you’re not like that, you’re more, so much fucking more.” His low, gravelly voice vibrates as it caresses the shell of my ear. I reach my hand up to my hair and let it out of its tight bun. My mahogany strands fall down my face, across my chest resting just above my tits. Max takes a strand in between his thick fingers and twirls it. My nipples pebble at his closeness.
“You’re a vision,” he whispers as he pulls me closer to his chest, my hard nipples scraping his chest.
“You are more than I’ll ever deserve. So, much more,” he whispers as he takes my lips in a spine twisting, core crunching kiss. I let out a moan into his mouth as the primal desire takes over my body again. But there’s still a barrier, there’s still too many clothes as our kisses start again, the same hot and heavy pace as before. My hands travel down his hard chest, feeling every peak and edge of hard muscle ripple under my hands. I find my way to his black jeans, fumble with the button, pop it and then the zipper. He moves slightly and they fall down his legs and to his ankles. I feel his hard cock grazing across my thigh as he leans down to completely step out of them and disregard them with the rest of our clothes. Our bodies intertwine again, our lips opening, our tongues tasting. I can feel his length through his boxers; just the feel of it is certainly impressive. I’d heard stories, of course I had and there was that time in San Diego, but my god it feels like he’s got a snake in there.
I can’t help this primal need that tugs at me, twisting deep in my core as I slip down onto my knees, pulling Max’s boxers down with me. I hear his breath hitch and then a hiss as I take his hard length in my hand for the first time. Damn. Dick’s aren’t pretty... are they? Maybe it’s this hunger inside me, maybe it’s this beautiful carnal need but his cock surely is a thing of beauty. Perfectly proportioned, big balls but not too big, just the right amount of hair. But not a—
I look up at him, his eyes are needy, desperate as mine are.
I hesitate, only for my curious brain to ask, “I always thought you had a Prince Albert?”
He shakes his head with a strong belly laugh. I feel every second of it.
“No, you are misinformed, Miss Cannock. Tommy does. I don’t.” He laughs again as I smile and put my hand back onto him. Slowly wiping the precum from his tip. Pushing his foreskin back. He’s not cut like an American boy. Because he’s all British fucking man. I lean in, let my tongue trace his length. Listening to the hiss of approval that comes from his lips as I close my mouth around him, covering my teeth and tasting him, moving my mouth up and down in fast yet soft movements. Again, and again. Over and over. I listen as I suck, loving the sounds he’s making. Loving the way, he calls my name as he grabs onto my hair and guides my mouth. Turned on completely and utterly at how damn sexy it feels to be controlled by this man even though I’m in control of his pleasure.
I let my hand join my mouth, Max’s body twisting, his mouth dropping strings of the word fuck mixed in with ‘Ali, Ali, Ali, Ali.’
I feel empowered. I feel sexier than I’ve ever felt before when doing this. Because it’s him. It’s Max. It’s always been fucking Max, hasn’t it?
His stomach moves, his cries getting higher and higher as a hand comes down on my shoulder as a warning that my mouth has treated him so well, he’s about to cum. I want him to. I want to taste him, to feel his seed covering my throat. In hot spurts it comes, and I swallow hard taking every single drop he can give me. Panting, with my body screaming for more of his I let his cock free of my mouth. His body shakes with the aftershocks of his release as his mouth moans in pure pleasure.
He drops to his knees, his mouth wide open and his gorgeous hazel eyes are level with me. Wide and spent and so fucking gorgeous. The dark hazel, black irises, engorged just like his cock was. His lips taste mine again.
“Fuck me, Ali,” he breathes. I love that I’ve put him in this state. I twist my hands in his black hair and kiss his lips again. We’re on the floor together, a ball of mess but his eyes are raking up and down my body like I’m the most delicious snack he’s ever consumed. He might have just come but that’s certainly not stopping how wide his eyes are, how turned on he is. The fingers on his right hand skim over my tits, finding my hard, tight nipple and twists. A breathy moan leaves my throat.
“You’re so responsive to me, Angel,” he moans into my ear as he lets his fingers trace my over sensitive nipple whilst his other hand travels down my body, skimming across my belly until it connects with my tiny black thong. He runs his fingers along the band.
“And I need to know if you’re as responsive to me everywhere, Angel, or if it’s just your fucking beautiful tits that need me,” he breathes and I melt into him. The way he says angel instead of Ali. The way it’s falling so naturally off of his lips is making me dizzy.
“No,” I pant. “No, I need you. All of you,” I moan as his fingers continue to tease at the fabric. My sex clenching, desperate. Needy. I find his mouth with my lips, my breath ragged as I kiss him hungrily with an open mouth. Our teeth clashing as we desperately reach for each other.
“I need you, Max Baines,” I mumble into his mouth. “I’ve needed to feel you inside me since the moment I met you,” I demand as he pulls at the tiny scrap of material, ripping it out of the way so his fingers can find me. My cunt is engorged, wet, and slick, desperate for any part of him it can have.
The moan that drops from my throat as his fingers connect deep inside me is ear splitting. I moan and pant as he strokes me with great skill, my body a shaken mess of euphoric bliss within seconds. The deeper his fingers get, the more they twist the louder I moan. My body vibrates and heat pours from me as his skilful hands manage to find my G-spot and his thumb on my clit at the same time. He’s a master, of course, he is. I can’t think of the women that have had Max’s hands inside them before me. I can’t. There’s too many and because I doubt anyone on earth has ever really felt like this. I ride his hand, unashamed as I take exactly what I need from him. What he is so willingly giving to me.
My lips connect to his shoulder as I pant his name over and over again on his skin as he controls me with his hand. My legs start to shake, I feel my climax building in my core as his fingers continue their beautiful, sexy assault. I bite down on his shoulder. I can’t help it as bliss fills my entire body, I see stars as my pussy tightens around his fingers and I scream his name one last time before I collapse in a desperate mess of sex and cum and wet heat, and that tight feeling in my chest lightening as my orgasm whips its way through my body.
He strokes me through it. Catching each of my purrs in his mouth and peppering my lips with sweet, sweet kisses.
“Max,” I moan. “Max, I…” I’m not sure what I want to say. I feel high, high as a bird in the sky and I’m not sure what happens when I come down from this because I don’t know where this can possibly leave us. As if he can sense my inner turmoil, Max’s arms cover mine, covering my body with his own as he pushes his lips to mine. Letting our tongue swirl and tangle in what is possibly the most passionate kiss I’ve ever had in my life.
“Max…” I moan again as my hands twist into his hair, and he pulls our bodies closer, flush in our sitting position.
“Angel, the way I look at it we have two options here.” He moves his lips to the shell of my ear. Kissing the lobe and then trailing soft kisses down to my neck and sucking on that sweet spot where my neck meets my shoulders.
“I’m either going to lay you on this couch, open your legs and I’m going to put my tongue to your sweet cunt and taste you until you forget your own name,”—the little noise that leaves my throat is crazed and I feel Max’s cock, hard again, twitch against my body— “or, I’m going to put you over my shoulder and I’m going to carry you to my bedroom and bury my cock so deep inside you that you won’t be able to move again without thinking about me. About the filthy ways I’m going to claim your body.”
I giggle, a dirty sexy giggle I didn’t know my mouth was even capable of making.
“Take me to bed, Max.”
He nods, a sexy smirk covering his beautiful lips.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
