“Callie.”
She took a step back and knotted her fingers together in front of her. “Max.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Were you going to knock or were you going to stand there all evening?”
“How did you…”
“I saw you pull up. I’ve been waiting for you.”
When she didn’t immediately make a move, he stood back and opened the door wider. “Come in.”
She took a deep breath and stepped into the lion’s den. Or at least it felt like it. The door closed behind her and she stopped in the middle of the hotel room.
Firm hands slid up her arms to grasp her shoulders and then warm, sensual lips pressed to the curve of her neck. She shivered and closed her eyes as sweet pleasure hummed through her veins. A welcome song.
“You smell just as I remember,” he murmured. “Sweet and a little exotic. Like wild honeysuckle in bloom.” He swept his tongue up to the hollow behind her ear. “And you taste every bit as sweet as you smell.”
“Max,” she whispered.
Slowly he turned her, his hands never leaving her arms. He stepped in closer until she was pressed to his chest. Then he moved his hands up to cup her face and he lowered his head to kiss her.
A moan gathered low in her throat, swelled and then slipped past her lips into his mouth. He ate delicately at her lips, nipping then sucking, and then he traced a line with his tongue before plunging deep.
There was nothing tentative or seeking about his kiss. He exerted the same mastery that had attracted her to him in the first place. Strong. Determined. And possessive. So very possessive.
He kissed her mouth and then pressed a tender line down one side of her jaw then up to her temple before skipping over to the other side to repeat all over again. He kissed her forehead and then pressed his mouth to her hairline and let it linger.
Tension coiled tight in his muscles. Whispered through his body and into hers until they were two wound springs.
When he finally pulled away, his fingers threaded through her hair, stroking absently as though he couldn’t keep from touching her.
“I’m going to make love to you, Callie. I can hardly think straight for wanting you. And God, I don’t think I can be easy. You deserve easy. Gentle and loving. You deserve for me to handle you like a piece of delicate glass. I don’t think I can.”
His words, so hoarse, his need so prevalent was like warm sunlight after a long winter. She stared up at him then touched his face with trembling fingers. “Then don’t be,” she whispered. “Just love me.”
With a harsh groan he yanked her into his arms. She hit his chest with enough force to knock the breath from her, and his mouth devoured her all over again.
He walked her backwards even as he yanked at her shirt, pulling it from her jeans. He shoved impatiently, freeing her from the shirt, and he wasted no time going for her pants. With one hand, he fumbled with her snap while with the other he unclasped her bra.
With her jeans still snagged at her knees, he tumbled her onto the bed. He tugged at her jeans until they came away, and the denim went sailing across the room to hit the door with a thud.
Then he set to work on his own clothing and she lay there, staring through half-lidded eyes as he revealed his muscular, tanned body.
He was leaner. A little thinner than he’d been before. The whorl of dark hair at the hollow of his chest tapered to a dark line below his navel where it disappeared into the band of his slacks.
Some of his impatience eased when he saw her watching him. He paused at his fly and began a slow tease that left her breathless with anticipation.
Inch by delicious inch, he peeled the material down his body until the dark hair at his groin became visible and then his cock slid out, distended and swollen.
When he was finally nude, he crawled onto the bed and straddled her body as he stared down as if memorizing every inch of her all over again.
“You’re so beautiful. So perfect. Perfect for me. Just the right amount of soft and sweet with a thread of steel at your very core. I don’t think a more perfect woman was ever made.”
Her breath caught and hiccupped out until her throat burned with emotion. He’d always been able to say the right thing. He didn’t throw words out carelessly. Everything he ever had to say was measured and weighed. And so exquisitely rendered.
He was a man who when he talked, others listened. There was something in his tone that commanded respect. And obedience.
“Do you want me, Callie? Do you want me like I want you?”
She swallowed and nodded.
“The words. I want the words.”
“Yes, I want you, Max,” she said in a low voice.
“Put your arms over your head.”
She raised her hands and leaned back until her arms were high above her head and her knuckles grazed the edge of the mattress.
Slowly he backed away from her and off the bed until he stood between her thighs. Then he slid his fingers up her legs to hook into the waistband of her lacy underwear.
He tugged gently, and the tiny scrap eased over her pussy and down her legs to her knees. Her legs trembled as he pulled her underwear the rest of the way off and she was naked and vulnerable to his gaze.
“Spread your legs for me,” he said. “I want to see you again. I want to taste you.”
She was barely able to comply, her knees shook so badly. She knew she was wet for him. Knew she wanted him so much. His touch. His tongue. His mouth. Everything. It had been so long. So very long.
Her heart and her body ached for him.
He leaned down and carefully thumbed through her folds, testing her softness. He dipped a finger into her opening and slid it upward, making her flesh slick with her desire.
He traced a circle around her clit until she squirmed and lifted her hips, wanting more.
“Keep your arms above you,” he reminded her when she would have lowered her hands to reach for him. “Or I’ll have to tie them.”
Oh God. Memories of her bound and completely at his mercy exploded through her mind. He’d tied her hands. He’d tied her legs. He’d had her complete submission. And he’d owned her body and soul over and over and over…
He lowered his head even as he parted her with his fingers. Warm air blew over her sensitive flesh as his breath huffed out just before his tongue touched her opening.
She strained upward only to be issued a sharp reprimand to be still. She panted, her chest heaving as she fought for control. It had simply been too long. She couldn’t possibly restrain herself. She couldn’t do his bidding when her body screamed for him.
“Please,” she begged. “I need you.”
He glanced up at her, his green eyes smoldering so hot she shivered. “Do you want it rough? Do you want me to take you now before you’re ready?”
“I’m ready,” she gasped out. “Please, Max.”
His hands curled around her knees, and he yanked her down until her ass rode the edge of the mattress. He spread her, positioned his cock and thrust forward.
His entry was a shock. No matter that she thought she was ready, he was big and swollen and it had been a long time for her. Her body hugged him so tight she wondered if it was even possible for him to go deeper.
He withdrew and then hammered forward, opening her ruthlessly with the force of his thrust. All the while his gaze was fastened on her. His eyes glittered. Wild. So unlike his usual controlled, cool stare.
His face was drawn with harsh lines. His lips were thin and flat, and his nostrils flared even as he powered into her again. Her body shuddered. She felt small and helpless, prisoner to the pleasure he took from her body.
She closed her eyes in bliss as her pussy rippled around his cock. She arched her body, stretching, welcoming him back.
“Open your eyes, Callie. Look at me. Only at me.”
Her eyelids fluttered and she did as he directed.
His lips twisted savagely as he grasped her hips, opened her wider and forced himself deeper. He thrust so hard against her that her body shook. Her breasts jiggled with each movement, and the sharp slap of his groin against her ass sent a jolt of pleasure, razor sharp, through her belly.
He leaned over her, pinning her body to the mattress as his body powered over hers. In and out. Rougher, harder until she bit her bottom lip from the exquisite, overwhelming sensations bombarding her at every turn.
She wouldn’t last. Couldn’t. Not against his onslaught. Not after so long.
Pressure built, coiled in her belly and tightened every one of her muscles until she was weak from the strain. Her nipples beaded and puckered, and a thousand tiny chill bumps raced over her skin as the flames of her orgasm fanned higher and higher.
He was so big and she was so tight. She felt him in every part of her body, sliding like velvet through her most delicate tissues.
Not once did he pause. He pushed. Harder and harder. Relentless. His jaw bulged and he stared down at her, his gaze flashing over her face.
“Come.”
The quiet order was like a short fuse. It whipped over her body and unlocked something deep within her soul. Her release flashed like lightning. She let out a sharp cry and she came apart, piece by jagged piece.
Her vision dimmed. He and the room blurred but through it all she stayed locked on him. He’d demand no less. He was her anchor. Her shelter. Her strength. Her very soul.
He fell on her, gathering her into his arms as his hips rocked spasmodically against her. She felt the quick wetness between her legs, and the ease with which he slid into her body now.
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