His hand covers my breast, so hot, so big, completely curving around it before he squeezes it.
“Max,” I cry as he squeezes and squeezes, my nipple tightening against the cup of my bra.
“Tell me I can,” he demands, head dipping down, hot breath puffing against my moist lips.
“You can’t,” I whine and his grip on my breast eases, fingers going slack around me in punishment.
His mouth touches mine and he kisses me furiously. He kisses me as if he’s trying to brand his taste on my lips.
When he pulls away, it’s all I can do to try to catch my breath. His eyes wander down, burning a path down the cut in my blouse and locking on my cleavage as my breasts rise and fall with each shuddering pant.
“Tell me,” he growls, and when I don’t answer his hand that was on my breast drops to the button on my jeans, easily snapping it open.
“Max,” I gasp as he yanks my zipper down with a loud zip.
“Grace,” he says with expectation as I take a deep breath.
“You can’t fuck me tonight until I forget all other men,” I tell him. His eyes fly back up, full of disbelief and hurt like I just slapped him.
Reaching out, I grab his face as his fingers loosen in my hair and hold him. “You can’t do it,” I pant, staring into his eyes. “Because you already did.”
I watch the hurt in his eyes melt away, and begin to relax. A smile pulling at my lips I slump against him, glad to get that off my chest.
But his eyes, they shift, darkening. There’s a new emotion in there, something feral and bordering on madness. Something that looks a lot like… possession?
“Fuck,” he growls and pushes forward, easily breaking the weak grip of my hands. His mouth reclaims my mouth. Kissing me hungrily, kissing me until I’m breathless and dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
“That’s it,” he says, tearing his mouth away and shoving his door open.
The night is warm but the breeze that hits me feels cool against my inflamed skin.
Lifting me up just like before he easily stands with me in his arms, kicking the car door shut behind us.
“You fucking said it,” he grunts with effort as he carries me forward. Legs wrapped tightly around his waist, I’m bouncing in his arms, and I know it’s not my weight that is trying him. It’s taking every ounce of strength I still possess to keep from begging him to take me right here, right now, on his fucking doorstep. “I’m not going to let you take it back.”
“I don’t want to take it back,” I assure him as he pushes his front door open.
“Fuck,” he yells out and stops dead in his tracks. Body shuddering, his head drops forward and he breathes heavily for a moment before his head pops back up.
“We’re not going to make it to the bed,” he informs me.
I open my mouth to tell him okay, I’m good with that, but I’m stopped by his mouth covering my mouth. He pushes me up against the wall and his hands grab the front of my blouse, tearing it open.
“Savage,” I gasp as his kiss moves from lips, teeth scraping against my jaw and nipping a trail down my neck.
“Yes,” he agrees and rocks his hips forward, grinding against my smothered pussy with his trapped erection. “And don’t you fucking forget it.”
His mouth licks, nips, and suckles across the swells of my cleavage. Grabbing the little strip of fabric that connects the cups of my bra together, he says, “I’ll buy you a new one,” before pulling and popping my bra open.
“I don’t care,” I moan and my back arches as his mouth completely covers the nipple of my right breast. I don’t need clothes; I just need him. “Fuck my clothes.”
His tongue swirls around my areola and then he pulls back a hard suckle. “My tits,” he says before moving on to the other breast.
Tipping my head back, I close my eyes, struggling against all the need coursing through me as he plays with my breasts. I swear my body feels like one great big pulsing throb.
While his mouth pulls and suckles, his hands help me unwrap my legs from around his waist and push them down.
Once I’m standing, he’s shoving my jeans down to my ankles. My knees weak and wobbling, he steps on my jeans for me, helping me step out of them.