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His growl morphs into groans when I take him in my mouth as far back as I can. My eyes water working him with my hands, tongue, and mouth in a greedy desire to make him succumb to me. The grip he has in my hair tightens and his impressive size hardens and I slide him in and out faster.
“Syd,” he says with a ragged breath. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to come down…”
I work faster and hum my approval.
I want all of him.
And I get my wish.
He takes a couple seconds to regain his composure. I bite my lip, glancing up at him with hooded eyes. “That mouth of yours will be my downfall.” He lifts me in his arms and I wrap my legs around him. His lips devour mine, the ache in between my legs so intense, I question if anything will dull it. He places me on the kitchen table by the ice bucket and I look up at him with a quizzical expression. Flashing a mischievous grin, he walks backward a few steps into the kitchen. Drawer after drawer, he searches for something. He holds up a spoon like a trophy when he finds one. A spoon? Is he going to eat ice cream right now? Right after I…
“Lay down on the table.” His raspy voice interrupts my thought of untimely hunger. I do as I’m told, bending my knees up in the air so the hardwood table doesn’t bite into my back. Max’s tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip as he stares at my wet center. “You’re going to ruin me, Tink.” I glance at his hand and he pumps his already hard cock. “You’re so fucking wet, all I want to do is sink into you.” The way his eyes streak up my body, my insides shudder, almost orgasming. No man has ever looked at me and made me feel this sensual. I slide my hand over my breasts and down to my clit, moaning in pleasure. He grabs my hand. “As much as I want to see you pleasure yourself, that’ll have to be another time.” His eyes dart around the room, but I meet disappointment when they find mine. “Reach your hands up and grab the chair,” he demands. I smile when I figure out it was because he couldn’t find anything to tie me up with. After I find the chair, he says, “Don’t let go. If you let go, I stop.” I nod in anticipation. He’ll have to pry the chair from my grip.
He pops the spoon in his mouth as he pulls a chair up to the table. I feel vulnerable as his eyes appraise my body in such an exposed position. I stare up to the ceiling, trying to calm my erratic heart. Hearing him open the ice cream, I peek down. He winks at me as he takes a spoonful of vanilla ice-cream, shoving it into his mouth.
My mouth opens to sarcastically ask if he plans on staring at me all night, but I snap it shut when he wraps his arms under my thighs and yanks me to him. His cold tongue darts out against my heated core and I cry out, my back lifting off the table. I grip the chair harder, afraid I might let go by accident.
God, he can’t stop.
When he pulls back, I groan in frustration, the ache on the border of pain. “Patience, beautiful,” he says, dipping the spoon back into the ice cream. This time, he spreads the cold ice cream against my clit to my entrance.
“Max,” I whimper when he slips the spoon inside of me. The cold metal foreign object feels good. But it shouldn’t, right?
He chuckles, pulling it out, replacing it with his mouth. His tongue expertly moves, sucking the ice cream off. My entire body convulses as he brings me to the edge. He plunges two fingers inside me and I scream out his name, over and over as I coat his fingers with my orgasm.
Holy hell. I pull in a couple breaths, calming my errant heartbeat. Max stands, leaning over kissing my stomach, trailing up my torso until he’s at my mouth. His kiss is brutal, filled with need and possession. I thought I was breathless before. Squeezing my legs around his waist, his heavy cock pulses against my center. He reaches above me, without stopping his sensual assault and uncurls my fingers from the chair. I arch my back off the hard wood of the table when he grinds his hips into me.
“The need for you hurts. I’ve dreamed of this day for so long,” he murmurs. “You’re so fucking perfect.” His hands slow their movement on my body and he crawls on top of me.
“Oh, no!”
“Fuck!”
We both say at the same time.
Suddenly, all desire seizes as the one thing holding us up, gives in and we crash to the ground with a loud thump. Max’s hand protects my head, so it doesn’t hit the hardness beneath us. Thank god, he didn’t land on top of me, rather he pushed his weight to the side of me. The couple seconds of surprise and panic is washed away with my laughter. Max jumps off the destroyed table, holding his hand out for me to grab.
“I… I can’t,” I say in a fit of giggles, holding my stomach. We’re both naked and we just destroyed a hotel table while about to have sex. The ball of desire and nervousness tickle my insides.
“At least you’re not hurt,” he says with a grin, squatting down to lift me up in his arms. With ease, he moves me to the bedroom, lowering me to the bed. Our bodies sink into the cool white down comforter. “I can say, that hasn’t ever happened to me before.”
“Really?” I say, eyeing his body, joking. My perusal stops short. “What the…” My words trail off, staring at Max’s tattoo. Specifically, the one on his upper shoulder. Surrounded by other tattoos, this one stands out like a full moon on a clear night. Why hadn’t I noticed it before? I trace the tattoo, the same way I’ve done my own. The path identical. Jay’s farewell words come back to me. “You can’t get mad at me if you see it again.”
Max chuckles. “The bastard. I swear I didn’t know. Not until you showed up at the hotel in New York.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
He nods. “You were walking away from me again. What was I supposed to do? Would it have made you stay knowing we had similar tattoos? I’m certain, you would have been irate.”
“Why do you have wings?” I ask, staring at the identical wings to mine in disbelief. He grabs my finger, still outlining them, and brings my hand to his lips.
“I got them after I came back to New York. After leaving you in California.”
My eyes widen and I sit up on my elbow so I have a better view of his face. “What are they for,” I ask, already guessing but needing validation.
“You.”
The idea of him permanently marking me on his skin has emotions building inside my chest. He stays silent, his eyes flicker across my face. I open my mouth to respond, but I can’t focus on one feeling because there are fragments of almost every one ricocheting in my mind. The overwhelming need to leave, to put some distance between us, burns at my core. I drop my elbow and roll to my back, taking in a deep breath, but finding it hard to pull in a deep enough one.
