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My chest heaves, my pulse throbbing against my neck. “I don’t want to stop. I want this, too.” Because I fucking love you! Thank God I swallow that last bit before I end up sounding like some crazy clinger bitch.

But those damn voices pepper me with questions again.

What does this mean? What does he want from me? Is it just sex or something more?

Now I’m the one who needs the off switch.

His smile widens, and I don’t think I could be happier than I am in this moment. I grasp his hand and pull him toward my bedroom. He reaches for me, snaking his arms around my waist, lips scorching a path down the back of my neck. I’m so consumed with lust, I forget to move. I just stop, allowing the carnal haze to blissfully fog up my mind.

Max spins me around, lifting me into his arms and carrying me into the bedroom. I lock my ankles tight around his waist, tugging at his black t-shirt. I slide it over his head, and he pulls out one arm at a time, never once letting me go. I swallow a gasp when my eyes fall to his perfectly chiseled pecs and the ink that covers them.

I run my fingers over the ripples and grooves, my brows furrowing at the long, deep indentations beneath the swirling lines and images covering his chest.

Scars. So many scars. All different shapes and sizes.

I raise my eyes to his, questioning him without speaking a single syllable, but he has no response. I know he can tell what I’m thinking, what I’ve always suspected but never wanted to acknowledge, but still no explanations come forth. His gaze begs me not to ask the questions…ones he doesn’t want to answer, once I’m not sure I even want answered myself.

I’m not as naïve as they all think. I know that business is code for something a lot more dangerous. What I don’t know is exactly how much more dangerous.

Max’s words float back into my hazy consciousness…always looking over my shoulder, nobody to trust, the life I lead, choices I’ve made…

And the code of that life is written all over his body.

He’s waiting for me to make my decision, my cue for whether or not I want to get in any deeper than I already am. But the reality is that I’m already drowning, and he’s the only one who can save me.

I take his face in my hands and graze his lips with my own, giving him the answer he needs. He tightens his grip on me, his cock thickening against the barely there pajama shorts still clinging to my body. I raise my arms and he pulls off my tank top, taking each one of my breasts into his mouth, kneading them and suckling the nipples with his tongue and teeth. He gently lays me onto the center of the bed, and my body sinks into the fluffy down comforter. He loops his thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and slowly slides them down to my ankles along with my panties. He fumbles with his belt buckle, his smoldering gaze never vacating from my face even though I’m lying naked beneath him. He never peeks, just focuses on my eyes, like he’s trying to see what’s shielded behind them…the same thing I try to do with him.

Maybe tonight those shields will finally be lifted.

He forces his jeans and boxers to the floor and kicks them off before climbing over me, the swollen head of his long, hard cock grazing my opening. My legs fall open for him, desire bubbling in my veins. I lie there, breathless, aching for him to touch me, to singe my skin with his carnal energy. He runs a hand down the length of my body, his soft lips following suit, traveling lower and lower. He caresses the insides of my thighs with his hungry mouth, gripping my legs, lifting my body to give himself leverage as his tongue plunges into my core, sweeping over my clit before each thrust into me. I fist the comforter and pull a throw pillow over my face to muffle the screams, or this would be grounds for Max’s castration at the hands of my dad. I clench with every nip and nibble, my heart thudding with such force, it may just explode with glee. I arch my back, thrusting my hips against his mouth, screeching into the pillow like it’s the first time I’ve ever felt this rush of emotion course through me like a raging flame.

Because it is. And I don’t want it to be the last time.

I’m so screwed.

My body trembles and quivers, shuddering with delicious aftershocks as my breathing calms. The pillow is lifted from my face, and it’s Max’s seductive grin greeting my elated one.

“You’re done already?” I whisper.

“Not even close,” he murmurs, tracing the outline of my lips. “Give me a sec.” He reaches down to the floor, and a minute later, he produces a foil packet.

“Wait.” I lean forward and push him backward onto the mattress with what I hope is a sultry smile. I balance myself on either side of him, straddling him, dipping my head to take his perfect, pink cock into my mouth. My pussy still tingles from the memory of his delicious oral assault, and the greedy bitch wants more, but she’s just going to have to wait a little while longer.

I slide my tongue down the sides, taking him as deep as my throat will allow, and that’s not saying much since I have a pretty bad gag reflex and he’s hung like a freaking elephant.

Oh, by the way…thank you, God!

He clasps my shoulders, digging his fingers into my skin as I nip and suckle, teasing his slit with my tongue. Loud moans spur me on, so I stroke him harder with my mouth, kneading his balls until he fists my hair…just hard enough to make desire pool between my legs.

This is happening. Holy shit, this is really happening!

His body quivers and quakes beneath me, and the energy flowing between us short-circuits my brain as I take him deeper and deeper.

“Stop,” he rasps.

I lift my head, confused. “What’s wrong? I thought—”

He raises himself up, eyeing me like a predator who hasn’t eaten in days and is about to devour his prey. “Get up here,” he growls, the low, gravelly tone making my skin prickle with anticipation.


Tags: Kristen Luciani Mob Lust Romance