Against the Ropes
Page 62

“Touch me, baby.”
Hand shaking, I circle my fingers around his girth and marvel at the contrast between his hard desire and the silky softness in my palm.
I slide my hand up his length, stroking lightly. Max groans. Sweat beads on his forehead and his hands clench and unclench by his sides. No man has ever been so aroused by my touch. Emboldened, I sink to my knees on the cool rubber mat. I press a kiss to his swollen head, and then a lick. Salty. Sweet. Sensual. Everything that is Max.
“You taste good.” I open my mouth and slide my lips along his length, taking him as far as he can go.
“Makayla, baby. Stop.” He threads his fingers through my hair and gently eases my head back. “I won’t be able to hold out. I’ve wanted you for so long, and seeing you like this…here.” His voice breaks. “A man can only take so much.”
“But—” I want this. I want to taste him. I want to give him what he gave me.
He hooks his hands under my arms and yanks me up. I groan when his fingers slip between my legs.
“You’re so wet.” His voice deepens, thickens. “You liked having my c**k in your mouth.”
I should be shocked, maybe offended by his words. Instead, I am incredibly aroused. “I’ve been wet since you walked onto the stage at the gala. It seems to be my normal state around you, but yes, I especially liked having you in my mouth.”
“My turn.” Max nudges my legs apart and drops to his knees. He isn’t going to…he can’t—
He nuzzles my mound and my breath hitches. Oh God. He is. He can. I take an involuntary step back, but before I hit the ropes, Max grabs my hips and holds me still, his thumbs sliding to the juncture of my thighs. Fire races through my veins. He spreads me wide and his breath, hot and moist, whispers over my aching nub.
“Oh, Max.” I thread my hands through his hair, and dig my fingers into his scalp. Max looks up at me and grins. He slips a finger inside me, and I rock into his palm. It can’t get much better than this.
He leans forward, and his tongue sweeps along my folds in one long, wet, delicious lick. I gasp. It can get better. Much better.
“You like that, baby?”
My only response is a strangled cry.
Two fingers dip inside me, deeper this time, and then out, again and again, until my hips are rocking in time to his rhythm. I tighten my grip on his hair and try to get him where I want him to go.
“My girl is so damn hot when she’s right on the edge,” he murmurs. He slides his fingers out, but before I can protest, his tongue plunges into my sex, the sensation intimate and darkly erotic. I arch my back and moan.
“Hold on, baby.” He captures my sensitive nub between his lips and sucks it gently into his mouth. I fall back against the ropes and scream as my orgasm hits me. But he doesn’t stop. His teasing tongue continues to lick and he draws out wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure.
A slight quiver in my thighs is all the warning I get before my knees buckle. Max catches me and pulls me down to the mat on top of him.
My breath comes in short, hard pants. “Weren’t we just in this position a few weeks ago?”
“Yes. And I was thinking then exactly what I’m thinking now.” He flips over, carrying me with him until I am on my back, caged by his tight, hard body.
“So was I.”
“I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.” He presses his palm over my sweet spot, and his fingers thrust and curl inside me. My body tightens around him. Tighter. Tighter. And then his fingers disappear and his erection prods gently against my swollen folds. I breathe a sigh. Finally.
“Open for me.”
Sensation floods my body as he spreads me wide.
Finally.
I’ve waited for this for so long. Dreamed about it. Fantasized about it…
“Damn.”
“Max?” Half-dazed, my face crumples when he draws away. “What’s wrong?”
A pained look crosses his face. “I don’t have a condom.”
My tension instantly disappears and I melt into the mat. “I do.”
“Where?”
“In my purse.” I point to my evening bag long abandoned beside my dress.
Max pushes himself up and grabs my bag. “I am both pleased and displeased to know you left home tonight with a bag full of condoms.” He hands the bag to me.
I pull out a condom and hold the open purse for him to see. “Not a bag full. Only three. I like to be safe.”
He tears open the packet with his teeth and sheaths himself. “Only three? Drake and who else did you plan to seduce tonight?”
I grin and ruffle his hair. “I like jealous Max.”
“I like Makayla with only one condom in her purse. For me.” He settles himself between my legs, holding up his weight on his elbows. His erection presses deliciously against my entrance. I lean up and flick my tongue along his tattoos.
“I like these,” I whisper. “Do they mean something?”
“Failure.” The self-loathing in his voice startles me. I look up at him, but the pained expression on his face freezes my tongue. So many tattoos. So many failures. Why does he feel the need to ink them into his skin?
My mouth opens to ask him to explain, but Max cuts me off with a kiss. He nuzzles my neck and trails kisses down my throat and then around each of my br**sts. He laves first one nipple then the other, and my arousal ratchets back up in an instant. I arch my back and whimper.