Page 37 of Embracing Us

Chapter sixteen

Linda

Max wanders across the terracotta tiles, lifting his t-shirt over his head. I raise my arms, placing my hands beneath my hair. He loves when my breasts rise up, his eyes always sparkle with excitement. A dark smile plays on his lips. I lie back, legs wide, looking up at my man. My future husband. A man that only a year ago, I truly thought I had no right to. Now, even though I wish we were closer in age, I have no doubt that he was always meant for me. We work. This is what love is meant to feel like. I’ve never been in a relationship where I felt so secure.

His hair is roughed up and sits over his forehead. It’s obvious he never even bothered to style it this morning. The sun has disappeared, the only light on the roof terrace coming from the night sky above and the small wall light at the entrance to our room.

“Do you know how much I love you, Beautiful?” he says smoothly as he arrives beside me, kneeling and placing his palm across my stomach. His hand covers the small fold of skin his son left behind. “This is my favourite part of you. The evidence that you created Jackson for us. I love all of you, but this…” He nips the loose skin between his fingers. “Is something we created together. It is also the reason we have each other now and are planning the most incredible future.”

“Max, I have never doubted that you love me.”

“Am I that transparent?” He drops a kiss on my forehead.

“That’s what makes you so special. The fact that you wear your heart on your sleeve. For me who wasn’t used to open affection, you were a breath of fresh air. Albeit, slightly terrifying.”

“Terrifying. I’m not sure that’s a quality you look for in a new husband,” he teases, his hand moving lower then resting between my open legs. “Tell me what it was about me you found so frightening.” His emerald eyes focus on me, giving me no room to hide from the conversation. Max is honest and expects that in return. His heart is a gift, and bloody hell I cherish it.

“Your honesty,” I answer, simply.

“Honesty is always the best policy.” He smirks, then slides a single finger inside me. “You’re very wet, Beautiful. Are you needing some attention? It’s not fair that I’ve had all the fun. Though, your enthusiasm was appreciated.” I lift my hips, encouraging him to push inside deeper. A second finger joins the first. His hand pumps slowly, his thumb moving to press gently on my clit. I lay my head back, close my eyes and enjoy his undivided attention. Warm lips encasing my nipples are a welcome addition to the experience, each one treated to its own arousal being licked and sucked until they both stand tall. “Hold that thought,” he says, releasing all parts of me and leaving.

“Where are you going?” I whine, his departure unwelcome.

“Be patient, and keep your eyes closed.” After a few minutes, I hear him padding back towards me. He stands above me, then something soft is laid across my eyes. “Lift your head,” he says, securing whatever it is behind my head. “Lie back and enjoy.” I sense rather than see him return to his kneeling position beside me, his fingers resuming their previous task. The recognisable buzz of my bullet vibrator sounds, causing my excitement to rise. My knees bend further, dropping open wider in preparation.

He surprises me by placing the device on my nipple, causing a breath to catch in my throat. His hand continues to pump between my legs as the vibrations seep into my nipple and across my skin. Max doesn’t speak, but the familiar growl of arousal is clear in his throat. I imagine his cock swelling in preparation for what’s to come, but I know before he is inside me I’ll have been taken to the edge and pushed over. Probably more than once, if past experience is anything to go by. His attention moves to my other nipple, triggering a whimper from my lips. He leans down and kisses me gently, his tongue sliding into my mouth to play with mine.

“Do you want to come, Beautiful?” he whispers, his breath tickling my skin.

“Not yet,” I purr back. “Tease me some more.”

“Your wish…” His words trail off as his focus moves to my body. The buzzing bullet skims across my stomach then comes to a stop on my pubic bone. So close to where I need the sensation but not on the sweet spot. “Turn over,” he says, his voice heavy with sex. “On your knees, legs wide and head down.” I manoeuvre myself into his requested position, my eyes still covered, unable to see. He moves behind me, placing a hand on each thigh, my left leg being tormented by the vibrator. “Wider, and get that head down, ass in the air.” His lips press down onto my buttock. “Fuck, you look incredible like this. Ready, waiting for me to tear you to pieces.”

His mouth moves lower, the tongue I’m so familiar with starting at my clit then trailing slowly over my flesh, tasting what I have to offer him. The vibrator disappears. His mouth continues to enjoy me then he places the bullet directly onto my clit as he eats. His other arm wraps around my legs securing me in position. I’m trapped, my body building and him waiting to reap the rewards.

I wriggle my hips, trying to relieve some of the pressure. “Stay still,” he growls, then sinks his teeth into my ass. It bites deliciously, and I yelp. His mouth returns to my pussy, and he flicks the device up a setting. Arousal courses through me. I’m close, but the precipice isn’t clear. Just when I think the edge appears, he removes all the stimulation. My body freezes, shocked by the loss. The need for him oozing from every pore.

“Please,” I beg.

“Please, Beautiful. What do you want?” he replies, wickedly. I sense him walking around the sun lounger, his focus burns across my skin though I can’t see him. “What do you need?”

“Fucked,” I gasp back. He chuckles, then the lounger dips with his weight. Before I can prepare myself, he takes hold of my hips and slams inside me. With no mercy, he works fast and hard. One arm wraps around my waist, and he places the toy directly onto my sweet spot. The other grabs a handful of my hair, pushing me down onto the lounger. The peak reappears within moments, my body breaking beneath his. He ignores my convulsions below him and continues to pump hard as I spasm around him. Submitting in every way I can, legs spread, spent with the sound of wet flesh being ridden home, he jerks his release, groaning loudly. Still inside me, he leans forward and places a kiss on my spine then releases the blindfold.

My eyes blink open, adjusting to the dim light. I glance up at Max over my shoulder and he responds with a cheeky smile. “I might go away more often,” he says. “If this is the welcome home I will get every time.” I laugh, then wriggle from beneath him. He releases me, moving to lie down. We squeeze onto the single lounger, my body wrapped around his. “This,” he tells me, softly. “What we have, it is perfect. This is the kind of love I used to dream about and now, I’ve found it with you. Life feels complete.”

I drop my lips to his chest, pushing down gently. Closing my eyes, I mumble, “The feeling is mutual.”

*

The car is packed to bursting. Crystal bounces on her toes beside us as Max closes the trunk. We decided to hire a seven-seat vehicle to take us all to Gibraltar. Between four adults, Jackson and his copious volume of equipment, Aunt Susan’s standard four-door wasn’t going to manage.

My dress has been steamed, pressed and wrapped in clear protective sheets for the journey. The black suit carrier was placed over the top to ensure my groom didn’t see it before the big day. Crystal and Susan are my self-appointed bridesmaids. They arranged a simple hen-do for me in the hotel last night. I’d been slightly shocked when a fireman walked in and proceeded to perform a striptease. As I looked around the bar, our guests who probably have an average age of seventy, were thoroughly enjoying the show. I’m not one hundred percent convinced the stripper was for my benefit.

Jackson has already been secured in his car seat beside where I will be sitting. Crystal mutters something about going to chase Susan up or we will be late. She scurries off in the direction of the hotel. Max laughs quietly under his breath.

“I’m not sure asking them to come with us was the best idea,” he says. “They’ve morphed into wedding planners.” I step towards him and wrap my arms around his trim waist.

“As long as at the end of everything I end up being Mrs Gordon, I don’t care. They can get me to walk down the aisle in a pink princess dress.”

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