Maya Banks - Colters’ Daughter

She wasn’t offended by his need to control—to dominate. She offered herself so sweetly that it made his gut ache. No one had ever given themselves so freely. And he had tried his best to fuck it up.

All because of a promise.

He shook away the unwelcome intrusion of his darker thoughts and unsnapped Callie’s jeans. Steam began rising from the shower and he eased the pants down her legs.

Leaving them bunched around her ankles, he pulled at her shirt until she was clad in just her bra and panties.

Unable to resist, he knelt in front of her and pressed a kiss to the silky V of her underwear. Her mound was soft beneath and teased his lips. Frustrated with the barrier, he thumbed the band and worked the lace over her hips until the soft triangle of hair was exposed to his gaze.

“You’re so soft and feminine.”

He rose up and tongued her navel and then nibbled a path around it. She thrust her fingers into his hair and held his head against her body as he kissed her lovingly.

“Step away,” he directed as he rose to his feet.

She kicked out of her jeans and underwear, and then he pulled her against his chest until her breasts pushed over the cups of her bra.

“Perfect. Just perfect.”

He cupped one and lifted until her nipple peeked over the peach-colored lace of her bra. The delicate coral peak beckoned him, and he lowered his head. He flicked out his tongue and traced the top of her areola until her nipple puckered and poked rigidly outward.

Another little push and her breast was free from the cup. He rubbed his tongue over the bud and then sucked it between his teeth.

She gasped and stumbled. He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her tightly as he licked and teased the delicious treat.

“Shower’s ready.”

“Tease,” she grumbled.

He grinned and all but carried her backward through the open shower door and into the hot spray. She immediately let out a groan of pleasure as the heat sluiced over them both.

He prodded until her head fell back, baring her neck to his seeking mouth. Despite his determination not to start anything, he found he couldn’t stop himself. She was an addiction. A fire in his blood he hadn’t a hope of quenching.

Breathing hard, he tore himself from the taste of her skin and stood back for a moment to collect himself.

She reached for the shampoo, but he wrested it from her grip and dumped some of the liquid into his hand. He began at the top of her head and worked the shampoo into her hair. After he rinsed, he grabbed a washcloth and tormented them both by soaping every inch of her delectable body from head to toe, paying extra attention to the parts in between.

When he was done, she took the cloth, squeezed soap into it and then started at his chest. By the time she reached his belly, he was hard as a rock and so swollen it felt like he was going to split at the seams.

Her sweet hands worked around his cock and down to his balls, where she cupped and rolled, driving him more insane by the minute.

When she stepped away to rinse the soap, he groaned. She sent him a pouty, sultry look that only made him want to press her against the wall of the shower and fuck her senseless.

As water rained down over her, she came back to him and lowered to her knees in front of him. He guessed her intention and reached down to grasp his cock and pull it away from her grasp.

“No, baby. You don’t have to. You’re tired.”

She gently tugged his hand away from his cock and curled her fingers around the base. “I want to,” she said in a husky voice.

His breath hissed explosively from his throat as she slowly slid her tongue over his length. The warm water had nothing on the heat of her mouth. She sucked him deep, licked over his rigid flesh and then slowly pulled away until the tip of his cock hung precariously from her lips.

She lapped at the slit and made a purring sound deep in her throat, thready with contentment.

“Jesus, Callie.”

“Help me,” she murmured. “Show me how you like it, Max.”

“You know damn well how I like it,” he growled.

But even as he spoke, his hands were on the sides of her face, gripping and holding her in place as he guided his cock inside and then deep. He held himself there for a long moment and then withdrew, sliding across her tongue.

She was the most erotic sight he’d ever witnessed in his life. On her knees, slicked down, water running in rivulets over her breasts, her face turned up and her gaze fastened on him. Awaiting his command.

He stroked her cheekbones with his thumbs and spread his fingers gently over her ears to the slick hair behind them. Her mouth was the sweetest fire he’d ever immersed himself in.

Hot. Tight. Wet.

So damn good he was going to lose his mind, his control, his very soul.

She surrounded him like liquid velvet. Sweet. Fiery beyond his wildest imaginings.

Each stroke to the back of her throat brought him that much closer to absolute abandon. She swallowed around his cock, her throat working around his flesh with wicked skill that left him shuddering uncontrollably.

“Let me taste you, Max. I want everything.”

Her soft plea unhinged him. He stroked deep as his release coiled tight in his balls and surged up his cock. The head of his penis rubbed over the top of her mouth and to the soft tissues at the back of her throat. She swallowed the first spurt of his semen, and the motion shattered the last of his control.

He gripped her head and thrust. Hard. His orgasm was painful. Ripped from him like he was shedding his skin. Intense bursts of ecstasy splintered through his groin and his knees nearly buckled as he exploded in her mouth.

He threw back his head, slammed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth so tightly that pain shot through his jaw.

She continued to stroke and caress him, coaxing the last of his release from his still-hard dick. Each little pet sent another shudder rocketing through his body. Little electric impulses that had him groaning as wave after wave of endless pleasure silvered through his veins.

He slipped from her mouth, but she continued to glide her fingers over his hypersensitive flesh, her hands working their delicious magic.

Suddenly aware of the water still streaming down over Callie, he reached quickly to turn off the shower. He felt like a drunk trying to stagger out of a bar as he took a step through the shower door.

His legs were rubbery and aftershocks still sparked through his body, but his first duty was to Callie.

He grabbed a towel off the rack and reached back for Callie’s hand to help her out of the shower. When she stood, dripping on the floor, he engulfed her in the towel and gently rubbed her from head to toe.

She sighed a little wistfully as he moved to her hair and began wiping the moisture from the long strands.

“I should be drying you,” she murmured.

He leaned in to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Huh-uh, dolcezza. You know how much I love taking care of you. And you already took such good care of me in the shower. For the next little while, I’m going to pamper and spoil you ridiculously.”

She smiled. “I like ridiculously. You do ridiculously really well.”

“I should hope so.”

He wrapped her hair in a towel, and then he retrieved the plush robe from the hook on the back of the door and pulled it around her body until she was engulfed by the thick terrycloth.

“Go in the living room and wait for me,” he directed. “It’ll just take me a minute to get dressed.”

Callie walked into the living room, drawing the robe tighter around her. It wasn’t that it was cold. In fact, the apartment was at a perfect temperature. Heat rose from the floors and a fire blazed in the hearth though she guessed it was a gas log.

Still, it looked inviting and she went to stand in front of it. When she turned her back to warm the hands she held behind her, she stared out the opposing window to the view of downtown Denver and distant mountains.

In a lot of ways, this reminded her of traveling across Greece and Italy with Max. She’d always backpacked and stayed in hostels or slept in train stations. Max was horrified at the idea that a young woman for all practical purposes was operating as a homeless person.

Callie had laughed and said for all practical purposes he was right. She had money but it had to be strictly rationed, and if she could get cheap accommodations or a place to camp, then she didn’t have to dip into her cash reserve, which meant she could travel even longer.

Max had put an end to all that from the moment Callie first let him make love to her. He’d taken over—not in an overbearing, assholish way—but rather he wanted to take care of her and proceeded to do just that.

He was firm. He was stubborn. But he wasn’t a jerk who got off on giving her orders.

She smiled as she remembered one particular conversation they’d shared in one of the sumptuous hotel rooms he’d reserved. She was on her knees on a thick, plush carpet not unlike the one in his apartment now.

Max had rubbed his hand up and down her cheek in an affectionate caress and asked, “Do I have your obedience, Callie?”

She wrinkled her nose and curled her lip in distaste. “I don’t like that word. I’m not a child. You aren’t my parents. I’m not some wayward twit who needs to be kept in line. Surely there has to be a better way to get your point across, Max. You know I love pleasing you. I need to please you. But please don’t use words like obedience, because it suggests something I don’t like.”