His palms squeeze my breasts, just hard enough to send prickles of satisfaction dancing over my body. “You like that?” Enjoyment coats his voice.
I’m not sure if he’s talking about the angle of his cock or the squeezing of my breasts. I like them both. He presses into me, harder, faster. This is rough and fast and hot, and I can’t get enough of it. I wrap my legs around his butt, and rise up to meet each stroke.
“Charlie,” he groans in response, hunger etched on his face. His fingers move toward my pussy and find my clitoris with frightening ease, and he rubs me there in firm circles till I break. “Max,” I scream out as I come, my pussy clenching around his hard dick.
He doesn’t stop as I lose myself in my orgasm. His thrusts stay firm and even. His hands grip my hips, and there’s raw need in his eyes. “I want you to come again,” he says. “I want to feel you come all over my cock. I want your muscles to quiver around me. Okay, Charlie?”
Another orgasm for me? I can understand why Max has women flocking around him all the time. He’s incredible in bed, and he’s generous as well. So far, the score is two-orgasms Charlie, zero-orgasms Max. That doesn’t seem fair.
“I want you to come.” I wrap my legs tighter around him, and clench my muscles tight.
From the sharp lust in his expression, he feels that. “Bad girl,” he accuses, trailing his fingers over my body and pinching my nipple. “Stop it.”
“Why?” I ask innocently, squeezing once more.
His eyes gleam. He pins my wrists against the bed, and his thrusts quicken. He’s slamming into me now, burying himself in me. Sparks fill me. Desire threatens to overflow. Each stroke hits my g-spot, and sets my body tingling.
Suddenly, he grabs my waist and spins me so I’m on my hands and knees on the bed. He spears me from behind, and I shriek out, my fingers digging deep into his mattress. He’s so deep that each stroke leaves me with an aching pleasure-pain that I can’t seem to get enough of.
Each thrust claims me. Each stroke marks me as his.
I scream as lust overflows once more. My muscles grab his dick, milking him. He groans and grips my hips so hard with his fingers that I’m going to have marks, and he climaxes with a grunt of pleasure and a name on his lips. Mine. Charlie.
I just had sex with Max Granger.
Fuck. Is this going to change everything?
“God, Charlie,” Max says, slumping next to me and pulling me into his arms. “That was… amazing. Give me about ten minutes to recover, and I want you again.”
The tight pressure in my chest eases at his words, at the way he’s holding me. “Ten?” I tease him, my hand moving toward his dick. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”
His eyes dance with wicked intent as he pushes me on my back and straddles me. “I think,” he says, lowering his mouth onto my breasts, “that I should find a way to distract you so you don’t notice the wait.”
He totally delivers on that promise.
13
Charlie
I’ve found it.
It’s a nondescript piece of paper, buried inside a folder filled with copies of Renee’s phone bills, but the contents are pure dynamite. It’s a transcript of the video that a passerby took at the scene of the fight between Renee’s kid and the teenage bully that’s suing Renee for assault, and it clearly proves my client’s innocence.
No wonder Nolan buried it in a pile of other documents, hoping I wouldn’t find it. This wrecks his case. In fact, reading the transcript, I’m aghast that the prosecution didn’t just drop the case when the video surfaced. Shouldn’t justice matter? Sadly, winning seems to be much more important than uncovering the truth.
It’s late in the evening, and I have an early start tomorrow morning at court with the dreaded Judge Tang. If I were being responsible, I’d stay away from Max, and focus on getting a good night’s sleep.
Screw that. I want a repeat of last night. I pull out my phone and tap out a quick message. You busy?
His reply is near-instantaneous. I’m never too busy for you, Charlie.
A silly grin covers my face. I found the transcript of the video, I text back. Want to come celebrate with me?
Yes. There in ten.
Ten minutes? Yikes. I changed into my pajamas as soon as I got home, so I’m dressed in wrinkled flannel. My hair is a tangled, tousled mess, and paperwork is spread out in a circular swath around me on the floor. Even by my normally slovenly standards, my apartment is a disaster. I jump to my feet and quickly pile the sheets of paper back into their boxes. I’m shimmying my shirt off and hoping I can quickly run a comb through my hair when the doorbell rings.
Damn it, Max. If there was ever a good time to be late, it was now.
“Coming,” I yell, pulling my shirt back on. I don’t know why I’m so fussed. Max has seen my place in a mess plenty of times, and my hair is almost always a disaster.
Of course, those other times, he was a friend, nothing more. Now? I don’t know what label to apply to Max - I don’t even know if Monday night was a one-time thing. Shit. What if he doesn’t want to repeat the experience?
That thought causes me to freeze, as does the one that follows swiftly on its tail. Max told me the other day that he only slept with a woman three times. I’ve used up one of my strikes. If we do sleep with each other two more times, what happens after?
The knock sounds again, more insistent this time. “Charlie,” Max sounds amused. “I’ve seen your place before. Stop tidying and let me in. The food’s getting cold.”
Busted. My cheeks are flushed as I open my front door. “Maybe I wasn’t cleaning,” I tell him in greeting. “Did you say food?”
He follows me in and deposits the bags of take-out that he’s carrying on the counter, before pulling me into his arms and kissing me like a man dying of thirst. His lips are soft, warm and insistent. His tongue slides against mine, and my arms wrap around his waist, all doubts quieted for the moment, replaced by swift lust. He trails small kisses on my jaw, my neck, and an especially sweet spot behind my ear, and each time his stubble grazes my skin, I tremble with sharp need. What are you doing to me, Max Granger?
My stomach growls just then, and I groan and bury my head in his shoulder. “I didn’t eat all day,” I confess, before he can start to nag me.
“I know,” he says simply. “That’s why I brought us take-out. Thai, extra spicy, with two orders of spring rolls. And a taste of Charlie Campbell for dessert.”
Desire wars with hunger. I’m about to propose that the food can be reheated in the microwave when Max kisses my forehead gently, with a crooked smile on his face. “Come on, Campbell. Let’s get you fed.”
“I want you after,” I say, my need making me brazen.
His eyes gleam with barely contained lust. “I’m all yours.”
My heart does a funny pitter patter at his words. If only, I think wistfully. If only that were true…
* * *
I’m stuffed. I couldn’t possibly eat another bite. I’ve gorged myself on three spring rolls, two bowls of rice and curry, and to cap it all off, I’ve eaten one of Max’s sinfully good chocolate brownies. “I was planning on showering,” I tell Max. “I’ve been in these pajamas ever since I came back home from work.”
His lips twitch. “I like the bunnies,” he comments, looking at the quirky fabric. “Why are they wearing top-hats?”
“They’re stylish.” I look at him through lowered eyes. “Want to join me in the shower?”
“I want you everywhere, Charlie.” His voice promises wicked sin. One minute, he’s making fun of my pajamas. The next minute, the tone of his voice sends lust galloping through my veins. “In the shower, in your bed. Against walls and on tables.”
Oh god. His voice is filled with smoky promise, and my entire body prickles in anticipation. I might have had a brownie, but that’s not dessert enough for me. I need Max now.
I get to my feet, and pull my t-shirt over my head. Underneath, I’m not wearing a bra.
Max’s eyes are glued to my breasts. “Very nice. Come here.”
I close the distance between us, and he caresses the back of my neck, before his grip tightens and his lips crash into mine.
I thought the kiss at the door had been intense. It’s nothing compared to this. His fingers wrap around strands of my hair, tilting my head so I’m completely open to him. My entire body is pressed against him. My nipples swell with yearning. I can feel his erection against my belly, and I rub against it, shameless in my need.
“Charlie,” he whispers into my ear. His hands trace a slow, languid path toward my pussy, stopping at my breasts and paying each nipple a generous amount of attention with his fingers, tongue and teeth. “You aren’t wearing any panties either, are you?”
“No.” My cheeks heat.
He grins. “Good.” His palm strokes my skin, smoothing past my waist, down to my ass. He cups each cheek before bringing his fingers up and into my dripping wet pussy. I gasp, the cry lost against his lips.
“Max,” I moan, trying to remember what we were doing before we started kissing. Oh, right. We were going to shower. “The bathroom is down the hall.”
“Lead the way.” His eyes are glazed with lust. He pulls back slightly, but he doesn’t let go of his grip around my waist. We do an awkward shuffle to the bathroom, where I turn the water on and wait for it to heat to the temperature I prefer.
Max pulls his t-shirt over his head, and throws it in a corner. I openly gawk as his hard, chiseled body comes into view. He’s gorgeous. “How is it,” I ask rhetorically, “that you can eat all the cake in the world and still look like that, while I am going to pay for my sins tonight when I stand on the scales in the morning?”
“There’s nothing wrong with these curves.” He urges my pajama bottoms down my hips, and sinks to his knees, pressing kisses on my stomach and my pussy. “I’ve been dreaming of these curves ever since I met you, Charlie.” His gaze is openly possessive as he surveys my naked body.
“My turn.” I pull him up and my hands grope at his waistband, undoing the button, unzipping the fly. He steps out of his jeans and underwear, and his cock springs out, hard and thick and gorgeous.
“Is this what you want, Charlie?”
“Yes.” Steam fills the room. I nudge him into the shower stall and we hug each other under the water, touching, exploring. My fingers run over the taut ridges of his body. His fingers rub over my nipples, tweaking and pinching until I can’t think straight.
“Stop,” I mutter. “I want to do something.” I close my hand around his erection.
His eyes glint as my grip tightens and I start stroking. I want to taste him, but I also want him to fuck me with his thick cock. Last night was so good that I can’t wait for a repeat.
But I have a plan. Max went down on me last night. It’s time to return the favor.
“What are you going to do, Charlie?” His voice is hoarse.
I wink. “Patience, Max.” I reach behind him and grab my hand-held shower attachment with my right hand, never taking my left hand off his cock. Through some miracle of modern day plumbing, both the overhead shower and the handheld shower will work at the same time. I’ve taken advantage of that feature many times in the past for stress-relief purposes. Today, I’m going to introduce Max to these pleasures.
His eyes widen with apprehension as I hold the hand-held shower over his dick. “Umm, Charlie, I haven’t pissed you off somehow, have I? You’re not about to scald my dick, right?”
I laugh. “You’re such a goof,” I tell him. “I like your cock far too much to cause damage. Just close your eyes and enjoy.”
Sinking to my knees, I lick up the length of him, keeping my fingers wrapped around the base. From Max’s groan of pleasure, the warm cascade of water from the showerhead has added another dimension to the experience. “Damn...” he moans. “You’re killing me here, Charlie.”
And I’m just getting started.
“Hold this for me,” I murmur, handing the showerhead to him. “I’ve another use for my hand.”
“Do you?” His eyebrows rise. “Am I going to like it?”
Oh, I think you’re going to love it, Max.
My hand slides up his strong thighs, and cup his heavy balls. I squeeze them gently and Max hisses in pleasure, his dick swelling even harder in my mouth.
I’m so turned on at his reaction. His hand clenches in my hair, encouraging me to take him deeper in my mouth. At his firm touch, my pussy drips and I snake my hand down my stomach to find my clit.
Max growls in displeasure. “Nope. If someone’s going to make you come tonight, it’ll be me. My fingers, my dick. Understood, Charlie?”
Fuck - that’s about the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. His dominant tone and his stern words act as fuel on my already burning lust. I slide my lips deeper down his shaft, loving the taste of him, the feel of his hard length in my mouth.
I establish a rhythm, bobbing my head up and down his cock. At the same time, I stroke the sensitive spot between his dick and ass. His breath is harsh and jagged, and his cock stiffens in my mouth. “If you don’t want to swallow,” he grinds out, “you need to stop what you are doing.”
Wild horses couldn’t tear me away, Max. I have no plans of stopping.
Max grabs my hair and sets a rhythm for me. I feel completely possessed by him, completely controlled. He’s close - I can feel it in the tension of his muscles. I can see it in the rawness of his expression, and I can hear it in his uneven breathing. My eyes lock onto his and I take him all the way down my throat.
“Fuck, Charlie,” he groans loudly, then I feel him explode in a gush of hot liquid. “You are fucking amazing.”
I smile primly, and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Thank you, Max.”
He chuckles and pulls me up, hugging me against his body. “If you hurry up in the shower, we can go to bed, where I can show you how grateful I am for that fantastic blow job.”
I grin. “In that case,” I tell him, “hand me the shampoo, and let me under the water. I can be done in five minutes.”
* * *
We get out of the shower, towel off and make our way to my bedroom. I turn a small lamp on, and soft light fills the room - all the better for me to see Max with. He’s naked and he’s gorgeous, and I stare at him with raw hunger in my gaze.
Max’s expression is heated as well, but there’s an amusement in his gaze that fills me with suspicion. What’s he planning? “Charlie,” he says, with a quirk of his lips, “where do you keep your sex toys?”
My cheeks fill with color. “How do you know I own sex toys? Maybe I don’t believe in them.”
He makes a scoffing noise. “Please.” He eyes my dresser. “Which drawer?”
“Bottom one,” I whisper, mortified. That drawer is the place for unfulfilled fantasies and now, Max is going to see every single one of them.
He whistles softly as he rummages through my collection. “Charlie Campbell,” he says, pulling out a pair of nipple clamps and a fur-lined paddle, “what a naughty girl you are.”
“Shut up,” I mutter. “Stop embarrassing me.”
He nears me and tilts my chin up with a serious look on his face. “Never be ashamed of your desires, Charlie,” he says quietly. “Never let anyone diminish your wants, your needs.” His lips touch mine for a brief second. “Now tell me, what do you want me to use?”
I close my eyes. Dare I do this? Tell Max what I want? His expression is encouraging, and his dick is rock hard. I go for it. “The paddle,” I say, lifting my eyes up to meet his. “There’s a pair of handcuffs in the drawer.”
“Is there?” The lazy drawl in his voice causes my insides to twist with lust. “I’m going to enjoy using them on you, Charlie.” He roots around the dresser until he finds the fur-covered handcuffs. I stand at the foot of the bed, waiting.
“Let’s see,” he stalks toward me. He swiftly pivots me and pushes me down so I’m bent over the bed, my ass in the air. “I like that,�
� he says, from behind me. His feet nudge mine apart. “Wider,” he instructs. “I want to see how wet your pussy gets as I spank you.”
It’s pretty damn wet right now, Max.
“Such a naughty girl,” he says calmly. His fingers lift my wrist and snap a cuff around it, before grabbing the other and repeating the motion. “Your hands tied behind your back, your body just begging to be paddled…”
“You like it,” I accuse him.
“Mmm.” His palms caress my ass, then he trails the paddle over it. “I do. I like it very much.” His erection pushes against my flesh and I whimper and push toward him. I’ve changed my mind. Forget the spanking - I want his cock in me.
“Hold still, Charlie. I’m going to take care of you, baby.” There’s thick promise in his voice as the paddle swings down and a sharp pain blooms at the point of contact.
“Does that turn you on?” His hand rubs the stinging spot, stroking away the pain. His fingers find my clitoris and rub at that sensitive button until I’m gasping with pleasure and my hips are humping my bed.
He pulls away before I can come. Another stroke of the paddle falls on my ass. “So eager,” he marvels. “So wet. So ready. You want my cock in you, Charlie? Or do you want my mouth on your pussy?”
Either. Both. Just hurry, Max. I’m going to die if you keep me waiting.
Another sharp tap of the paddle sets my entire body tingling with pleasure pain. “Max,” I gasp out, my hands curling into frustrated fists. “Now. Please. Fuck me.”
I barely finish my plea when he slams into me. Hard. The breath leaves my body in a whoosh, and desire rushes in. His hands dig into my hips, holding me in place as he fucks me. Each stroke makes my toes curl, he’s that deep. I’m overwhelmed with sensation. His fingers play with my clitoris as he pounds into me, and I freefall into my orgasm.
The shocks slowly subside, but he’s still moving in me. My pussy tingles and sparks as his cock stretches me out. His hands wind around my hair, his grip tight. “You like it rough, Charlie?” he whispers in my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “You like to be tied down, helpless as I fuck you?”
Max Page 5
