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I swallowed as my stomach tightened. I couldn’t say if it was nerves or anticipation, but a shiver danced down my spine and shook my whole body. Max’s lips traced a line of slow, tantalising kisses across my neck and collarbone, and I could feel all the desire pool in the depths of my belly and between my legs.
He slid his hand around the back of my head and fisted my hair, tugging my head back. Every kiss set a tiny inferno of desire bolting through my body, and I reached out to grasp his shirt. Just when I thought he was going to kiss me properly, he pulled me away from the counter and towards the table in the middle of the room, pushing me against it until I was on my tiptoes and perching on the edge.
He dropped his hands and slid them up my legs, pushing my dress up until it was around my hips.
“Max, I—”
“Are you asking me to stop?”
I paused, then shook my head.
“Do you want me to carry on?”
I nodded.
“I need you to tell me, Ellie. With words.” His blue gaze bore into mine. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to continue?”
I inhaled sharply. “Yes.”
“Then shh.” He covered my mouth with his, kissing me deeply, and I melted against him, only pulling back when his thumb got closer to the apex of my thighs.
“Max.”
He looked at me.
“I’m wearing tights.”
He caught his tongue between his lips, slowly pulling it back into his mouth. “Ah.”
“That’s what I was going to tell you,” I said with a smile.
He pulled me off the table, and I kicked off my shoes, then reached right up under my dress to my bra and rolled the tights down.
“Are those tights or a torture device?” he asked, watching as I pulled my feet free.
“You’re thinking of Spanx.” I dropped the balled-up tights on the table next to me and looked at him. “Tights are far more comfortable than Spanx.”
“Ellie. Stop talking.” He stepped up to me again, and this time I hopped onto the table and parted my legs so he could get even closer.
I hooked my ankles behind his thighs and circled my arms around his neck, holding him against me as we kissed. it didn’t take much until I was rolling my hips against him and all but begging for him to take off his shirt.
I slid my hands down his body and pulled his shirt from his trousers, letting my fingers get to work on the buttons. He pushed on my knees, indicating I should unhook my ankles, and I did so, leaning back so I could undo the buttons of his shirt.
With them freed, I pushed the shirt over his shoulders, and Max shrugged it off then shoved it to the side. Everything about the way we came back together was desperate and quick, and the straps of my dress fell off my shoulders as I gripped the waistband of Max’s trousers.
“I don’t think so,” he murmured against my lips. He released me and pushed me back by my shoulders, quickly moving to bunch my dress around my waist and part my thighs.
Realisation of what he was about to do washed over me, but he was faster. I was barely holding myself on my elbows when he brushed his fingers over my underwear, and my hips bucked as he made contact with my clit.
He moved my underwear to the side and bent down, still holding my legs apart with my ankles resting on his shoulders, and kissed the top of my thigh. My breath hitched for a moment, and I shuddered out an exhale as he rolled his tongue over my clit.
Holy shit.
He made easy work of me, teasing me with his tongue in all different kinds of ways. As he explored my wetness with his mouth, I lowered onto my back on the table and reached down, finding my fingers sliding into his soft, black hair.
