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Everything about what he was doing was driving me to the brink of orgasm, from his tongue on my clit to his fingertips digging into the skin of my inner thighs. I let out a quiet moan and closed my eyes as he focused fully on my clit, applying pressure like nothing I’d ever felt to that tender area. My body tensed, and my hips moved almost as if I had no control, and I tightened my grip on his hair as I rode against the sensation of his tongue until I could do nothing but cry out in pleasure.
He was in no hurry to move, licking and sucking and kissing until I’d stilled, breathing heavily, with my legs trembling over his shoulders.
He pushed my legs down and stood, staring at me as he wiped his mouth. There was a carnal glint in his eye that made goosebumps prickle up all over my body, and the gruffness of his voice as he said, “Take off your clothes, Ellie,” almost made me cum all over again.
Seriously.
I did as I was told, sitting up to pull my dress over my head and then unhooking my bra and pulling it off so I was completely naked.
Max pulled his wallet from his pocket and tossed it on the table. “Get out a condom.”
He wouldn’t need to tell me twice.
I rummaged through a stack of receipts in the notes section while he stripped off and kicked his trousers and boxers away, then offered him the little packet. He took it and ripped it open, and I couldn’t look away as he rolled it over his hard cock.
He came back, holding my legs open, and I blinked at him.
“Right here?” I breathed, propping myself up on my elbows again.
“Ellie,” he murmured, leaning over me, bringing his lips to my ear. “I’ve read one of your books. Didn’t your hero fuck her on the table in that one—twice?”
My only answer was a sharp inhale.
“Exactly.”
Max straightened and reached between us for his cock, then brushed it against my wetness. Slow and teasingly, he finally pushed inside me, and I dropped my head back, parting my lips, as he grabbed my hips and tilted them to where he wanted them to be.
Oh, fuck.
It felt good.
Too good.
I dropped back and threw one arm over my eyes, reaching the other out for the edge of the table to grip. A deep sound came from Max that sounded something like a throaty chuckle, but before I could ask him what the fuck he was laughing at, he fucked me.
Slowly at first, almost tentative, until he yanked me down so my bum was hanging over the edge of the table. As if that had pulled a trigger, he picked up the pace, digging his fingers into my hips, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
He fluctuated between hard, desperate thrusts and slower, more controlled ones that were just as deep as the other, and the difference between the two had heat prickling all over my skin and almost incoherent moans of pleasure escaping my lips.
The man could fuck.
He played me like a fiddle, teasing me with rougher, harder sex before pulling back to a pace that wasn’t quite gentle lovemaking but slow enough that it was painfully teasing.
“Max,” I breathed. “Please.”
He leant over me, covering my body with his, and kissed me in such a way that he caught my lower lip between his teeth. “I could get used to you begging.”
“Don’t,” I whispered against his lips. “It won’t happen again.”
He laughed quietly, then pushed himself up and buried himself as deeply inside me as he could. I gasped, trying not to moan in delight when he rocked with me, hitting that sweet spot that was probably confused about what was happening to it because that had never happened before.
I know.
I was a fucking cliché.
“Max!”
“You want to come?” he asked, flattening his hands on the table, looming over me like a sexual god. “Now?”
