Page 70 of Maxwell

She was feverish with need, desperate for the final press of his hard dick inside her. She craved him so much that she was starting to feel a little crazy.

When he slipped his hand between her legs, her whole body jolted. She was so sensitive there that she choked out a sob. He massaged her wet sex, and she gasped and trembled. Gripping his biceps, she held him close to feel the hard plane of his chest against the softness of her breasts. She kissed his jaw. She kissed his chin, delighting in the way his facial hair gently bruised her swollen lips.

Maxwell lowered his mouth to her neck and sucked her sensitive throat. She sighed her pleasure, stretching like a cat, biting her bottom lip as he used his hot mouth and firm teeth to increase her pleasure and prolong her torment.

But she was right where she wanted to be, at the mercy of his mouth, with his hand between her thighs. She undulated her hips, simulating sex and rubbing her swollen clit over and over against his hand.

She remembered Nicholas’s accusations. Mediocre. Cold fish.

But none of those things were true with Maxwell. Maxwell made her moan. He made her arch her back and beg. He made her chant his name like a prayer as she pleaded for him to take her.

His mouth found hers again, and his blunt fingers traveled up her body, pushing her dress higher until he reached her breasts. He teased and tweaked her nipples until they turned hard as pebbles. But what she needed more than anything was for him to take them into his mouth.

“I want you out of this thing.” His voice was husky and raw.

“Then take me out of this thing.” Jasmine challenged him with her eyes.

Maxwell lifted her in his arms like she weighed a few ounces and marched toward his bedroom. He placed her on the bed and then began to strip out of his clothes. First, he shrugged off his shirt and revealed his impressive chest and narrow waist. Next, he unzipped his pants and pushed it and his boxer shorts to the floor before stepping out of them.

Standing before her was a magnificent male, a beautiful human covered in brown muscle. His chest was sprinkled with dark hair that arrowed down to an impressive erection that made her mouth suddenly go dry.

He reached for her thong, and she lifted her hips to ease the drag of the material down her thighs. Then he reached for her dress and she did the same thing—lifting up to allow him to remove it with ease. He dragged the garment over her head and tossed it to the floor with the others.

Maxwell came down on the bed and covered her mouth in another devastating kiss that made her burn with desire. She could kiss him for an eternity and still never be satisfied.

Reaching between them, she took his erection in her hand. She stroked his silken length, swiping up and down. She felt satisfaction when he sucked in a deep, unsteady breath. He was heavy and warm and so very thick. The memories of their first night came back in a rush, and she whimpered a plea directly into his mouth.

Maxwell pulled her hand from his body and spread her thighs with his knees. He kissed her collarbone and finally gave her what she wanted. He moved lower to her breasts. He sucked each one in turn and brought the nipples to tight, stinging points. This was what she had yearned for, for weeks on end, and dreamed about when she lay alone in her bed at night.

He continued lower. He kissed her belly. He kissed her hips.

Then he tasted her with his tongue.

She jerked off the bed, a cry of surprise at the unexpected pleasure arching over her vocal cords. Clamping her eyes shut, she relished the sensation of his tongue against her sex. Her toes curled into knots as his lips joined in, plucking her tender flesh and driving her insane. Each lick and suck brought her closer to the edge and left her breathless and quivering and panting for more.

“Yessss,” Jasmine whispered, her head swimming, her thoughts concentrated on his mouth between her thighs.

When he gave one long suck on her clit, she soared into oblivion. She came apart on his tongue and locked her thighs around his head until he had wrung every tremor from her spasming body.

Standing, Maxwell licked his damp lips and watched with satisfaction as she lay collapsed on the bed. Her breathing was heavy and erratic, but she knew there was more.

He reached down for his pants and pulled out a condom. He rolled it onto his shaft before coming down on top of her, his eyes filled with the burning heat of desire.

“You’re a goddess,” he whispered huskily. “I can’t believe I get to fuck you again.”

He pushed into her with a guttural groan. He didn’t move for a moment, his harsh breath beating against her shoulder. Jasmine stopped breathing and absorbed the sensation of him filling her body. She moaned because she couldn’t talk. She caressed his back, smoothing her hands down his sides and over to his taut buttocks.

“You feel so good inside me,” she whispered, letting her fingernails scrape the curve of his cheeks.

That’s when he began to move. His strokes were deep and unhurried. He did exactly like she’d said in the living room—made love to her as if there was nothing else he’d rather be doing.

“I swear you were made for me,” Maxwell rasped.

Soon the room was filled with the sound of her soft gasps and his grunts, her trembling cries and his heavy groans.

“Max...” she whimpered. She wanted another orgasm. She needed it like her next breath. She caressed his back and kissed his throat, tasting the saltiness of his skin.

He took her to the edge of ecstasy and ruthlessly dragged her back, ramping up the tension that coiled in her belly. His thrusting hips drove her into the mattress, and she met each thrust with a frenzied pump of her own. They stared into each other’s eyes and she felt their connection deepen. They were so in tune with each other’s needs, as if they had been made for one another.