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“Are you feeling all right?”
I move my tea into the chair’s cup holder before sliding my whole body down, straddling him. I can already sense the follow-up queries in his senses, but questions are the last thing I want or need. Not with him so close once more, smelling so good and radiating such warmth.
“I’m fine,” I murmur. “Veryfine.” I emphasize it with a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then another, a little farther in. Yet another, closer to the center of his overly worried moue. “I’ll be even…ermmm, finer…if we can negotiatethisas the sunrise special.”
I take my next cue from his inspiration, intent that he’s not allowed half a second to dream up a comeback. I’m defined and swift about where and how to slide my eager hand. It’s down between our bodies before he can interpret the intent in my gaze—and once I’m there, stroking and squeezing, a deliciously dark sound vibrates from his throat. It only gets better when I squeeze him tighter. His balls are already hot and firm, a recognition causing my own aroused moan.
“I assume you’re not talking about omelets and fruit?” Maximus teases into my ear, sending vibrations down my neck and then across my chest. My nipples, already engorged and erect, stab against the cotton of his LA Marathon T-shirt. Thankfully, the breadth of his chest shields the evidence from any eyes that might be prying at this height and hour.
“Well, breakfast usually isn’t my thing. But today I’m suddenly…ravenous.”
Heavy air pushes from his newly parted lips. I waste no time in taking advantage, sliding my tongue in for a deeper taste. Right away, I thank myself for it. Turns out that his mint toothpaste is the delicious chaser for my tea, though the real secret ingredient is the fiery spice of our combined desire.
It only gets better as he spreads his hands to the tops of my thighs, where he discovers that his borrowed boxer briefs are just as strange a fit as his event tee. Yet again, that’s pure serendipity. My parted legs have caused the fly in the underwear to open, allowing full access to the inward sweeps of his masterful thumbs.
“You mean…right here?” he rasps into the sensitive skin at the underside of my jaw. “And right now?”
I shiver against him before swallowing and finding my words. “Oh come now, Professor. You’ve never had breakfastal fresco?”
“Not while wondering if a crafty cameraman is positioning for a good shot of my eggs.”
I’m sigh-laughing into his neck. “I’ll never think of eggs the same way again.”
His growl-and-groan omelet is hotter than both of his feet. “You already give new meaning to a hard scramble, beautiful.”
I cup his cock even tighter. That last pressure is enough to set his velvet knob free.
“Well, we’ll make sure your…yolks…stay under wraps,” I whisper. “Nobody will think we’re doing anything but necking in the sunshine.”
“Necking?” He utters it like a foreign words while yanking back far enough to stare at my whole face. His own features are tense but alive, his cobalts full of lust and his nostrils full of air. “Not with how hard I plan to take you, woman. With how far I need to be inside you…”
He barges in on his own words with a lusty snarl. It’s just seconds ahead of his sweeping, heart-halting kiss.
A brand-new mewl spills from me in return—overtaken only by my aching sigh as soon as my man pulls my soaked center atop his waiting shaft. After one gasp-worthy lunge, he’s fully embedded. And I’m already clinging to him with sweaty but greedy hands. Wiggling to work him deeper.
And so ready with my desperate, panting reply.
“I’m…uhhh…also fond of breakfast in bed…”
His chuckle blends with my fresh moan, which comes courtesy of his sweep up to a full stand—with me still attached. As I instinctively lock my legs around his waist, incredible friction invades all the sensitive tissue I have. I’m so hot. So full. So unbelievably blissed out. The feeling is so intense that I almost order him to stop and let me ride him like this, paparazzi cameras be damned.
Only one factor holds me back. The thrill of hearing more sexy syntax from him. The knowledge that I turn him on as equally ashedoesme. When it comes in his own words, from his own aroused lips, it’s a better aphrodisiac than his eyes and abs and touch combined.
“Oh! My word!”
My shriek is a fifty-fifty mix of surprise and delight, layered with how the man swoops us back to his bed. At once, we seize each other with openmouthed abandon. We thrust tongues and lips in a ravenous, voracious rhythm. The same fast tattoo our bodies eagerly adapt.
The comforter and sheets are billowing and caressing. Maximus is bold steel and unrelenting lust. Beneath it all, I’m wildness but softness. Passion but submission. The most grateful lover in any cosmos that exists.
Until all those constellations home in and become…me.
And those stars are expanding. Then exploding. Flaring into brilliance I never thought possible. A climax that soars me into white-hot heavens, without thought or limits, until the only halves of my existence are this whole man and my grateful screams.
I never want the flight to end.
But something has thrown a rope around my mental rocket ship and is hauling it back to earth like the planet’s survival depends on it. Someone shouting my name over and over again.
Someone who’s not Maximus.
