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“Maxim!” Her hands were back in my hair, her hips bucking up into my mouth.

The sound of my name on her lips was heaven and hell, going straight to my dick. I ground into the couch and hoped it got the point that it wouldn’t be getting any play time tonight. Not when I had a point to make with Evie.

Her pleasure should come first. Tonight. Tomorrow. Always.

Even if it wasn’t with me.

The thought bit like a papercut, the sting catching me by surprise as irrational jealousy bubbled up, burning me from the inside at the thought of someone else touching her, using his tongue like I was right now, using his mouth, his cock, to satisfy her.

Mine.

That was my only thought as I ran my tongue in lazy circles around her, awakening every nerve ending, dancing on the edge of her clit and pulling back. She cried out when I licked at her clit. She whimpered in frustration when I edged back. She moaned and thrashed when I sucked the little bundle of nerves between my lips and teeth.

She screamed when I sucked.

She was so fucking responsive, her body a live wire in my hands as I brought her close to the edge time and again with nothing more than my mouth, keeping my hands locked on her thighs, keeping her spread so I could feast.

I wanted her to come all over me. I needed to feel her shake around me, for her to know exactly what I was capable of giving her and what she was entitled to take from me.

Tearing my mouth away from her sweet pussy, I rose up on my knees, gripped her hips and flipped her over to her knees.

“Holy shit, Maxim!” Her hands flailed beneath her, searching for balance.

“Grab the arm of the sofa and hold on,” I ordered her, spreading her knees before I rolled myself, putting my back on the couch.

“What are you—”

“Hold. On,” I demanded again, putting my face right where I wanted it—beneath her.

She gripped the couch and looked down at me like I’d lost my mind.

Fuck, this was the best view in the world. I could see up her shirt, to the bright pink bra she wore, and the sight sent another jolt of desire straight to my cock. It was like I was getting some illicit view—something I shouldn’t be allowed to see, to touch, and yet here I was, with her pussy inches from my face.

“Sit,” I ordered.

“Maxim, I’ll crush—”

“Fucking sit,” I hooked my arms around her thighs and pulled her down, until she was all I could taste and feel. The scent of her was sweet and rich, the taste of her sweet with a kick of salt that I couldn’t get enough of. I lashed at her with the tip of my tongue, and when she finally surrendered her weight, giving me everything she had, I rewarded her by eating her out with complete and utter abandon.

“Oh my God,” she panted above me, rocking gently, like she couldn’t help herself.

I tilted my chin just enough to breathe. “Ride my face, Evie. Take what you need. It’s all yours. Show me what you like.” Then I worked her with my tongue, my lips, even the graze of my teeth.

Her whimpers grew to moans.

Her moans turned to cries as her hips rolled over my mouth.

Those cries grew and grew until they sounded with every breath, every rock of her hips, every stroke of my tongue.

This was fucking heaven. She was a drug, a high I’d never experienced, and the trust she handed over so willingly was an aphrodisiac, flooding my every sense. My cock throbbed, my heart pounded, and my blood raced, screaming that the only thing I needed to survive was to thrust inside this woman and stay there.

“Maxim,” she whispered as her thighs locked around my ears.

As much as I wanted to draw it out, to make this last forever, I knew she was on the edge, that it would only take one little stab of my tongue against her clit, and I gave it to her, sending her careening over the edge.

She trembled.

She came, and it was my name she called out as the waves of her orgasm took her. My name she said like a plea as I stroked her into a second wave, my fingers tight on her thighs and my tongue buried against her clit.

Shuddering, she collapsed against the arm of the couch.

I took one last, luscious lick at her, memorizing the taste, the feel, the scent of her, and then I slid out from under her and sat up with my back to her.

“Maxim,” she whispered again. “That was…I can’t even…no words.”

Yeah, that was exactly how I felt.

And it was dangerous as hell.

I was on the edge, my control dangling by a string, and she was a fucking candle, lighting each thread on fire and snapping it with nothing but the wonder in her voice. My hands gripped my own thighs as I struggled to control my breathing, struggled to control the basic, primal urge to turn around and thrust into her. To claim each and every inch of that sweet body.


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Carolina Reapers Romance