“Jesus,” I groan, marveling at how the soft robe slips up over her even softer curves, leaving just a delicate little thong separating me from her private parts. Her eyes look back at me over her shoulder, expectantly, as I run a hand through my hair, my forearms flexing.
“Max,” she moans, her loose fists gripping the edges of the cushion she's laying her head atop. I almost shoot my load in my pants at the sound of my name rolling off her tongue.
I place a hand at the small of her back, my eyes meeting hers. “Say you’re sorry.” The coldness to my voice is a stark contrast to the fire raging inside my belly.
“I’m sorry. Sir.” The moment she says it, my hand comes down over her ass, hard. She squeals out, the shock of the impact coursing its way through my whole body. I can feel her tighten, her thighs snapping shut as she lunges forward a few inches, before settling back into place, her hips slotted against the arm of the couch.
“Again.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.” The other cheek, just as hard. No squeal this time, but a moan. A fucking moan. My girl takes her spanking like a god damn little fuck puppet. I repeat our little routine, alternating each cheek, ten times in all until Chloe’s ass is glowing a bright red, and I can barely contain myself anymore.
I take a small step back to admire the wet patch that has engulfed the fragile slip of fabric covering her pussy. She’s soaked, her arousal wetting the insides of her thighs. I almost feel myself reach out involuntarily, my fingers curling, pleading with me for just a little touch. Instead, they wrap around the ridge of my cock, stroking slowly with the promise of a proper release, soon.
“You can stand up now.” Chloe slowly gets to her feet, her breathing shaky, but I don’t move from behind her. Her sore ass presses against the enormous bulge in my pants, painfully hard and aching for more, before the slides her robe back down to cover herself, and her fingers graze oh so close to my cock.
She must be able to feel my heart pounding against her back. I swore to myself that I would never do anything to hurt her, and then I go and paddle her ass with my hand, which is still tingling with memory of her rippling flesh.
I can’t help wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her closer still, the other sliding down over the slight swell of her stomach, finding its place between her legs. “Did you enjoy that?” I ask, hesitantly. My fingers tease the waistband of her thong. If she says no, if she even hesitates, I’ll fucking break. I shouldn’t have put her through that, but something came over me. She nods, but despite how wet she was, I still need to hear it. “Tell me.”
“Yes. I did,” she whispers, and I lose all control of myself all over again. I twist her in my arms until I can reach her mouth, our lips colliding as a million little explosions go off throughout my body. Holding her in my arms while our tongues hungrily explore each other feels like the most natural thing in the world. It feels right. My girl, kissing me like a sailor on leave after I just palmed her ass into next week.
There was never any doubt in my mind. “Mine,” I groan against her mouth, at the same time as my hand works its way down into her panties, my middle finger sliding its way down the seam of her pussy. “Say it,” I groan, almost on the edge of begging.
“It’s yours, Sir,” she whimpers back against my lips, her hips beginning to roll, sliding the edge of her pussy against my finger. I smile against her mouth, before I run the flat of my tongue up her neck, pausing close to her ear. “Your pussy, or your heart?”
“Yes. Whatever you want. All of it.” When I pull my hand from her pussy, it’s already glistening with her juices. I make sure she’s watching me as I suck her honey off my finger, and I swear she’s watching me like she wants to do the same. This so–called brat, troublemaker, troubled little rich girl – whatever name people want to throw at her, she’s suddenly putty in my pants. She’s mine to mold, mine to play with, mine to do whatever the fuck I want with.
And I didn’t even have to fight for her – she’s giving herself to me on a silver platter.
8
Max
* * *
“Do you want your reward now?” I ask, planting a soft, quick kiss against her lips. The lips I’m going to be kissing every day, for the rest of my life. Her lips. Chloe’s lips.
My cock jerks when I watch her bite down on one. She nods gently, but… What’s that in her eyes? Fear? Apprehension? My hands are mid–way through guiding her onto her back on the couch when I stop, standing her back up. “What’s wrong?” My voice sounds actually worried, already. We first laid hands on each other less than 24 hours ago, and I’m ready to move mountains to right whatever’s wrong.
She opens her mouth, but the words get caught. I watch them moving, mesmerized, silently going over what to say, before she utters three little words that aren’t wrong, could never be wrong at all. “I’m a virgin.”
I suck in air through my clenched teeth as my hands return to her waist, kneading and needing her body. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t going to. Not until you’re ready. Got it?” My eyes reach her face, and I’m almost floored by the way she’s looking back at me with so much adoration. “But I do want to get my hands on that perfect little pussy of yours. You took your punishment like such a good girl. Now you get to feel good. Would you like that?”
She almost melts. I feel her entire body loosen in my hands before she nods, vigorously this time, her hands reaching for my head to pull our mouths together once more. “Yes, Max. Yes. Please. Make me feel good.” With her pleading reverberating in my mind, I lay her down gently, grabbing her knees and sliding her ass to the edge of the couch as mine hit the floor.
I glance up to her, propped up on her elbows as she looks down at me. There’s a nervous look to her face, but she edges her hips towards me, lifting them slightly as I slide her panties down, before I’m greeted by the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. It must be. I’m no monk, and it might have been a few years since I last had room for a woman in my life, but Chloe is already defying all expectations and breaking down all my barriers.
I don’t normally let women get close. I know my job might seem mundane on the surface, but I’m constantly in danger, so I would never want to put someone else in that kind of constant worry. But Chloe? In the back of my mind, what little portion of it isn’t focused on Chloe’s cunt, is already formulating a plan to change things up.
I’m ready to move mountains to right whatever’s wrong, and that goes for my own life too.
“Spread for me,” I moan, my voice laced with lust. And Chloe does so, of course. She pulls her knees back for me, leaving both of my hands free to grasp the round flesh of her ass, spreading her even further still. “Jesus, Chloe,” I rasp, before bringing my tongue to lick up the inside of one thigh, and then the other. “You’re already making a mess of yourself, little girl.”
She trembles, her toes curling, and I can see the anticipation on her face. She wants my mouth on her pussy, and so do I. I run a finger down the slit of her cunt, watching her jolt, before finding her hole and twisting a finger in, just slightly, just enough – enough to feel how impeccably tight she is for me.
When she trembles again, I waste no time in licking my way from her hole to her clit, flicking my tongue over the sensitive bud, as her whole body tightens. “OH my god, Max,” she cries, arching her back, and I find my rhythm licking and sucking and flicking her into an orgasm that they must be able to hear down on the street.
Those sweet, vulnerable cries that are meant for me – but I’ll permit them to hear, just this once. Because who could have predicted the way my girl would go off like an absolute rocket once my fingers were on her, and inside her. I suck on her pussy slowly as she comes down from her high, panting and twitching as she makes a mess of my face.
My cock is painfully hard now, threatening to burst my zipper if I don’t give it some kind of freedom. I reach one hand to my waist, awkwardly tugging and fumbling and unzipping. I watch Chloe’s eyes flash with nerves while my m
outh is still lapping at her wetness.
“No, don’t worry,” I mumble, kissing the soft patch of blonde hair that covers her mound. “I told you, nothing is going to happen until you’re completely ready. You just need to see how hard you’ve made me, baby.” I roar out against her pussy when my cock is finally free, my hand squeezing from base to tip as several drops of precome leak onto the floor.
“Oh my god,” she gasps, arching her head up to look down into my lap. I hook a hand behind her head, helping her a little further up so that she can see exactly what she’s doing to me. I fist my cock slowly at first as if trying to wring out all the knots and tension, but when her eyes widen and her tongue darts out to wet her lips, I have to go faster. I have to come while she’s looking at me like that.
“You see what you did? Jesus, Chloe, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard. You did this to me, and you haven’t even laid a finger on me. That’s how fucking special you are. Can you imagine how hard it’s been for me to be around you and not be able to touch you? Fuck.”
She slides her way off the couch, dropping to her knees before me, her bare privates just inches from my own. She kisses me, gingerly, slowly, before it deepens, and I watch in my periphery as she slides a hand down between her thighs, parting them as she touches herself and whimpers against my mouth.
“I want us to come together,” she whispers against the corner of my mouth, starting to writhe and buck her hips against her hand, and I watch in amazement at the way she owns her own body. I had imagined doing all manner of filthy, perverted, obsessive things to her.
But watching her work herself into a flurry of moans and gasps as I fist my cock to the sight? It’s beyond my wildest dreams, and it cements it for me.
I love her. Chloe is unlike anyone else I’ve ever met or could have ever dreamed of. She’s complex and troubled, but those are just part of her many layers. She’s also sweet, delicate, vulnerable, sexy, smart, confident, frank, and mine. God, she’s mine.
“You’re mine,” I groan, all low and guttural as if it needed to be said again. I reach my hand into her hair, tilting her head back so her eyes are on me. They’re low, hooded, and her mouth is trembling with the promise of another orgasm. I bring her forehead to rest against mine, kissing the end of her nose. “Watch. Look at what you’ve done, Chloe. Now come for me, like I know you want to.”
I’m only barely holding myself together, waiting for the moment when Chloe’s eyes glaze over, biting down on her lip, her hand working in short, jerking motions, and… Fuck, yes, satisfaction takes over, and there’s the deep, aching, almost painful release that I’ve been waiting for.
All the air leaves my lungs in a long, contented growl, as the contents of my balls empty themselves over the floor, over her lap, over her stomach, ropes of come shooting out of me with no control whatsoever.
But none of it matters because the sight before me is a fucking masterpiece. Chloe, her body arched, her head in my hand, and her fingers her pussy slowly as she gasps for air. When her eyes find mine again, our mouths crash together, my arms wrapping around her to lift her as I get to my feet. My legs feel shaky after such an intense release, but I’ve got the most precious thing in the world in my arms, so there isn’t a chance in hell of me dropping her.
I carry her over to her bed, her arms wrapped around my neck as we kiss, laying her down gently onto the crumpled sheets. I pull away, for only a moment, wanting to see her face. But she pulls me back to her, needy and desperate for us to be close. “No,” she cries, tugging at my collar. “Stay. Please. Just hold me.”
Two mind–blowing orgasms have got my girl spent, so what kind of man would I be if I left her vulnerable and alone like this. Not that I ever could. I’m never going to let her out of my control again. If she’s not in this apartment, or, more truthfully, the home we will soon share, then she’ll be with me. Tucking my cock away is difficult given that I’m already hard again, but I want Chloe to feel completely safe and comfortable as I roll her over, laying her down against my chest.
A hand gently toys with her hair, wrapping curls of her golden locks around my finger, as her breathing slowly settles down again. Once I’m certain she’s asleep, I reach into an inside pocket of my vest, pulling out my phone.
It feels a little sick, in a way, to be composing a text to her father while his panty–less daughter lays sleeping against my chest, but I want him to know that she’s safe.
’I talked to Chloe. Things are going to be okay now. You don’t have to worry anymore.’
Reaching around to set my phone down on a nightstand, it hits me that while Edward might not have to worry, I sure do.
I’ve still got a defiant little troublemaker on my hands, and no matter how much she might melt when she’s in them, I know I’m in for a lifetime of backtalk from this little minx.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
9
Chloe
* * *
When I wake up, the room is cloaked in darkness. Only this time, I’m not hit with a sudden wave of regret. Max is sleeping soundly beside me, him still fully clothed, me still half–naked, our limbs a jumbled mess.
All I can feel is content, happy, safe. I snuggle closer against his neck as I inhale his scent, the slight hint of cologne on his skin. I don’t know what’s happened to me, but I know I don’t want it to stop.
Before Max suddenly came barging into my life, I was lost, for lack of a better word. I was just so lost. I didn’t know what to do, so I just did whatever I felt like doing. Going from party to party, just allowing myself to be dragged along by friends who I felt no real connection to.
I’d felt that way ever since my mother died. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive her for the way she was so reckless and careless, never once stopping to consider how her actions might affect me, but that didn’t stop me from missing her every single day.
I love my father. I do. But there was never the same bond there that I had with my mother. After her death, he became overbearing, overprotective, and although I certainly didn’t feel ready to do so, I knew I’d never be able to move on and spread my wings unless I moved out.
And that’s how I ended up here. An apartment that didn’t quite feel like a home, and I could have chosen any path I wanted to, yet I chose parties, brunches, events, whatever labels they slapped on them, they were all just as empty and meaningless as the last. But I suppose that’s what led me to Max.
If he hadn’t seen me stumbling home with that creep who had latched onto me, I… Well, I know what I would have done. And I would have hated myself even more afterward. I thought having sex with a stranger might give me the kind of relief I had been looking for because god knows nothing else had worked. Max was there to stop me, to save me.
I’m not sure why I stopped short of giving everything to him this afternoon. It’s certainly not because I didn’t want to, despite what he might have thought. God, no. My pussy was, is, still aching to feel him fill me up. It’s just that giving everything to him would have meant giving in. I fought so hard for this slice of freedom and independence, and it almost felt like I would have been betraying myself by giving it all up for the first man to come along and tell me what to do.
Max is more than that, though. He’s the first and last. I was never good at taking orders or following rules. I never wanted to give people the satisfaction of seeing me bend to their will. People seem to think that just because I have a little more hips and ass than the average girl, that they get to treat me like I’m less.
No, I’m fucking more, and I’m in love with every single inch of myself. And although he didn’t say it… I get the feeling that Max might be too.
Now, laying in his arms, I can feel a kind of warmth spreading through me that I haven’t felt for a long time. It’s happiness. I know things aren’t back to normal yet – hell, they’ll likely never be normal again with him by my side – but laying there in the dark against him, the future seems a
little brighter.
Right on cue, the whole damn room is brighter as his phone begins to ring. It occurs to me that I was so lost in thought, I have no idea what time it is. I reach over to check, but what I see instantly makes me wish I hadn’t. I drop the phone onto Max’s chest, throwing myself out of bed as I press my lips together to contain the urge to scream.
I’m frantically pulling on any clothes I can find in the darkness as Max begins to stir. “Do you work for him?” I shout as I wiggle my way into a pair of yoga pants, throwing a t–shirt over my head before I flick on the light. I stand firm at the side of the bed, my arms folded tightly across my chest. Max lifts his head, his brow furrowed against the sudden brightness.
“What?” He croaks, glancing around. “What time is it?”
“Do you work for him?” I repeat, emphasizing each word, as Max comes to his senses, clocking the phone still vibrating in his lap. His eyes flick from the screen to my face, and my hurt and betrayal must be written as clear as day because Max’s expression says it all.
I launch into a tirade before he even has a chance to speak, pacing back and forth, my arms flailing and gesturing wildly. “Ugh, I knew he was worried about me, but sending someone to spy on me? Having someone watch me while I’m in my own home? Having them worm their way into my life? And then I…” I bring my hand to my mouth in shock and disgust, as tears press against the back of my eyes.
Max sits upright, as cool, calm, collected as ever. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, facing me. “No, Chloe, no. Calm down. It’s not like that.”
“Do you work for my father? Yes or no.” He sighs. As angry as I might be right now, I know, deep down, he could never lie to me. But I don’t know if I’m ready to have him try and explain away his actions. “I knew it,” I spit, waving a hand in his direction as I storm off towards the front door. “I should have seen it sooner,” I groan through gritted teeth, but I can already hear Max’s footsteps pounding the floor behind me.
Taming Her Curves Page 3
