Page 52 of Smooth Sailing
But those sounds he made—deep, primal groans that vibrated through her body as he tasted her. The way his shoulders bunched with restraint beneath her fingers. It was too much, yet she needed more. Needed to taste him, to feel him come undone against her tongue the way she had against his.
She nudged him to his feet, her body still tingling from his touch. The condo’s living room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, reflecting the raw hunger in his eyes. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of desire through her.
She knelt before him, her hair tickling his thighs, her breath warm against his skin. “Paloma,” he begged, his voice thick as tar and just as dark.
“What, Max?” she asked before wrapping her hand around his erection and taking him into her mouth.
Words seemed to fail him. His hands raked along her scalp, roughly and oh-so-perfect. The noises he made—his groans, his demands, his murmurs of how good she was, how fucking fantastic he made her feel had her arousal dripping down her thighs.
Without warning, he stepped back. She tried to go with him, but he ground out, “No,” tugging lightly on her hair.
She looked up, pushing out her bottom lip. “But I want more.”
He gripped her chin. “And I’ll give you more. Which is why we have to stop.” The hold on her tightened slightly, and he pressed up. “Come here.”
Once again, she followed his orders. No surprise. She'd do whatever he said if he kept making her feel this good.
He brought her in for another soul-searing kiss, walking her backward. When her legs hit the back of that odd-shaped couch, he turned them around and sat. She straddled his lap. Returning to his mouth to hers, he grabbed her ass and pulled her closer. The length of his erection lined up to her front, pressing into her clit as she rocked against him.
If they kept this up, she’d come. Again. He moved his lips from her mouth to her neck and mumbled into her ear. “What do you want me to do? What will make this feel better?”
“Tighter. More,” she gasped, trying to explain, but unable to form the right words. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she knew what she needed.
He pressed her impossibly closer, digging his calloused fingers into her ass. The slight shift had her climax, pooling, low and tight. Then he moved his hold toher hips, gripped them tight, and rocked her along his length in a way that made her head fall back and her eyes roll shut.
He trailed his lips down her neck to her breasts, and her breath caught. Not only from the physical sensation but from the tender way his fingers intertwined with hers. In that moment, she felt seen in a way she hadn’t in years—maybe ever.
“Max, please.” She begged. “Don’t stop.”
“Take what you need,” he said, returning to her lips.
His demanding kiss pushed her over the edge. Her pleasure owned her; her orgasm spread through her body. But even in its strength, she wanted more of him. “I need you,” she gasped.
“You have me. All of me.”
She understood he meant his body, but she pretended he truly meant all of him. Then she pushed that sappy fantasy aside for another day and said, “I want you inside me.”
He lifted her off his lap. She instantly missed his warmth. “W-what? Why?” she sputtered.
“Just a second, sweetheart.” He kissed her temple. “Let me get a condom.”
He shifted off the couch and grabbed the leg of his jeans, pulling them closer and taking a square package from the pocket. Once he had it, he turned to her and wrapped a big hand around her ankle. He kissed his way up her until reaching the apex of her thighs. He looked at her from between her legs. Pure sin danced in his eyes. He licked along her heat, then sucked on her already overly sensitized clit.
She arched up and away, gripping his shoulders. “I c-can’t take it. Give me a minute,” she begged.
He kissed her belly, chuckling. “I thought you said you were greedy. A glutton. I need to make sure that you get your fill of pleasure.”
The ripping of a foil packet whispered between them, and her satiated body was suddenly starving for him. His shoulder and muscles bunched and moved beautifully as he rolled on the condom.
She shifted to lay on her back, and he crawled up her body, settling between her thighs. Given the odd shape of the couch, they didn’t quite fit. They should move, but she didn’t want to stop and get off this ride. And he made it work, sliding slowly inside her, giving her time.
“Is this okay? Does it feel okay?” he asked.
“Yes, to both. More than okay. Closer to nirvana than okay,” she replied.
“I agree.” he said against her neck, but then echoed her thoughts from a second ago, “But this fucking couch is terrible.”
He pulled her up and sat like they had before, except this time he was inside of her instead of gliding along her. The sensation was intense, all-consuming. He trailed his hands down her thigh, across her stomach, chest, and shoulders as if he was mapping her, finding his way.
