Page 7 of Maxwell

“I hope you don’t just talk a good game. You better deliver.”

“I always do.” Maxwell slowly backed away, watching as she climbed behind the wheel of her car.

Then he walked briskly to his vehicle, a sapphire blue Range Rover he’d received as a gift from his sister Audra and her husband. As he climbed behind the wheel, Jasmine drove by in her car and waved at him.

He smiled to himself as he started the vehicle, his pulse speeding up as he reminisced about the short but tantalizing kiss. A kiss she had initiated.

Where had this woman been all his life?

He had hit the jackpot.

Chapter Three

Jasmine lived in Decatur on the fourth floor of her building. As soon as she opened the door to her dark apartment, Maxwell pushed her against the wall and captured her mouth with his.

Their dancing had been nothing but foreplay, making her anticipate having sex with him, so his impatience was a turn-on. Their kiss was wet and devouring, a passionate connection of lips, teeth, and tongues. Consumed with the taste and smell of him, she caressed his bearded jaw and tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth.

Moaning softly into his mouth, she ground her hips in a desperate attempt to feel his hard length pressed tight against her core.

Maxwell sucked on her neck, his hands roaming her body, traveling over her hips and ass, gliding over the curve of her back until he reached the clasp behind her neck. He released it, and the top fell away, exposing her breasts—small but high and round.

“Exquisite,” he whispered.

He lowered his head and sucked on one caramel-tipped nipple, circling it with his tongue, stroking and teasing in a relentless loop. His mouth was insistent and demanding. He tortured her with long, hard draws that made her sink her nails into his shoulders and toss her head back against the wall. It was almost too much.

She was breathless. Shaking. Dizzy with need, her fingers climbing into his soft, thick curls. She gasped as he undid her jeans and then dragged them down her thighs.

He lowered to his knees before her, and Jasmine held her breath. Her skin tingled as he kissed a line down her stomach and pressed a kiss to the pulsing spot between her thighs. Her mouth fell open, her body coming alive and aching for him. Grabbing the back of his head, she thrust her hips forward and bowed her back into a taut, deep arch.

Maxwell removed all her clothes—her red halter top, her jeans, and her pink panties. When she was completely naked, he took a moment to stand back and admire her body. He murmured something under his breath and then he yanked his shirt over his head. Locking eyes with her—his deep and slumberous and filled with desire—he kicked off his shoes. He didn’t say a word, but she was mesmerized, trapped by the intensity of his stare.

Unhooking his belt, he pushed down his pants and underwear, and her eyes dropped to the prominent jut of his arousal, long and dark, nestled in tufts of dark hair at his pelvis. He rolled a condom over his thick shaft, and she realized she had been so captivated by his gaze that she hadn’t noticed him remove the condom from his pants.

When he was sheathed in protection, he stepped closer in a menacingly sexy way. Like a predator cornering prey. She barely had time to admire his physique. Barely had time to notice that underneath the clothes was a man of beautiful proportions—muscular biceps, sculpted muscles in his thighs and on his hair-sprinkled torso. Firm pecs. Everything about him screamed male and conveyed masculinity.

He lifted her against the wall, and Jasmine whimpered, clamping her arms around his neck. He looped one thigh over his arm and gripped the other. Then he pushed his hard flesh into her, a move that was sudden, forceful, and demanding.

Jasmine cried out. The sound she released was strange. Foreign to her ears. She didn’t sound like herself. Had she ever made a noise like that before? So loud she had a split second concern that her neighbors would hear.

Then he pumped his hips, and she lost the ability to think. She was amazed at the strength he exerted to hold her in this position, his legs braced apart, slicing into her with fluid motions. All she could do was match his rhythm, moving on autopilot as delicious sensations exploded through her body.

It was incredible. It was unbelievably good. It almost seemed unfair that she could have such unimaginable pleasure.

“Max… Max….” Her voice trembled as she chanted his name.

“Keep working those hips.” He sucked air between his teeth. “Just like that, baby. You’re doing so good.”

She bit into her bottom lip, overwhelmed by all the sensations. By the way his firm fingers gripped the softness of her thigh. By the slide of his hard body into the depths of hers. By the brush of his beard on her bare, smooth cheek.

“That’s it,” Maxwell growled. “Take this dick like a good girl. I own this pussy tonight. You know that, don’t you?”

Jasmine choked out a reply as she gripped his broad shoulders.

“Use your words,” Maxwell commanded, thrusting harder, taking her higher.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Yes, who?” His lips were at her neck. “Who’s fucking you good? Who’s making you scream?”