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“I won’t ever touch anyone else but you again. I swear it. I don’t want anyone but you. I never have.”
His words created a slightly sick feeling inside me elicited by the distinct memory of me scrubbing off that red lipstick from all over my mouth in the shower just hours before.
“Wes?”
“She kissed me,” I reiterated, feeling like she was still clinging to my lips. “The only one I want to kiss is you.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
Still caught between memory and the present moment, I reached up to swipe my hand over my mouth. “I want her off me, Maxi. I want to taste you and no one else.”
“Tell me what you need,”
“Make me,” I begged. “Make me stop tasting that waxy red lipstick. Make me stop wondering about all the shit that could have happened. Make me yours again.”
In the dark, his eyes flashed. “You never stopped being mine.”
“She tried to take me.” I goaded. I knew what I was doing.
A low, ominous growl filled the space above me. Tingles of awareness and tendrils of want coated me inside and out. He pounced like a lion, inhaling through his nose as his lips met mine. The aggressive way he claimed my mouth, the way his hand clamped around the back of my neck, holding me like I was caught, had a needy whine slipping out while my eyes rolled back in my head.
Yesss.
The kiss was demanding and sloppy. The sound of our lips smacking melted with our panting breaths and filled the room with sex.
I arched up into him, wanting closer, needing more as I pulled his lower lip into my mouth to suck.
With a groan, he ripped away, hands planted on either side of my body as he hovered over me with heavy breaths. “Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
He nearly crackled with desire, the urge to give in warring on his face even as he fought to deny us both out of some sense of morality and concern for my wellbeing. It only made me want him more.
Sweeping my tongue across my lower lip, I lifted my eyes to his. “I can still taste her. I hate it. Make it stop.”
I watched the chain of restraint snap and eyes narrow in challenge. His hand closed around my throat and squeezed. And I purred against the cold metal meeting my heated skin.
“Did you just tell me you taste someone elseafterI kissed you?”
“Maybe you should do a better job this time.”
His hand tightened, and a little fissure of alarm shot through me before it melted into wayward desire. “All right, brat,” he growled. “I’m about to tame you.”
I moaned, a deep, throaty sound I knew he could feel vibrate against his palm. Not letting go, he shoved his tongue deep into my mouth, forcing it wide open as I gasped for air. His tongue rubbed along mine, stroking and coaxing until I was dripping with saliva.
When I tried to swallow, his hand tightened even more on my neck. “Don’t you dare swallow all that spit. It’s mine, and I’m gonna shove my dick in your mouth and let you coat me all over.”
I moaned, throat convulsing.
Chuckling, he moved back, my eyes tracking his movements with desperation.
“Sit up,” he said, releasing my neck and moving off me. “Against the headboard.”
The reflex to swallow was so natural I had to deny the urge more than once. I was so fixated on the pool of saliva collecting in my mouth that I barely noticed the shock of the cold wood headboard against my back when I leaned against it and spread my thighs.
“I didn’t tell you to spread your legs,” Max said. “Close them.”
Immediately, I obeyed, and he straddled them.
