But before I could fully come down, he was yanking me to the edge of that table and wrapping my thighs around his face. Propped on my elbows, breathing heavily, lips bruised, I watched him breathe me in with a look of pure devotion. And then his eyes, locked on mine, as he curled his entire tongue deep inside my pussy.
And I knew, finally, what it truly meant to be worshiped.
28
Max
After seven years of traveling, I’d finally discovered where I was meant to be all along.
On my knees for Fiona fucking Quinn.
This smart-mouthed spitfire had just come on my fingers like some kind of vision. And I couldn’t resist the urge to taste her. Her beautiful, perfect pussy was pink and glistening, with curls of dark hair. As I guessed, the taste exploding across my tongue was earthy paradise. Her thighs were wrapped around my ears, and her fingers in my hair was euphoric. It was life-changing and soul-shattering.
I had little experience with first dates, but something told me most of them weren’t like this. Hell, even my hottest one-night stands couldn’t hold a candle to the fiery intensity that drew us together. I licked and explored her wet folds, licked deep inside of her. Tasting what I was finally going to fuck later, tasting every secret part of her.
“Max… Max… oh my god, it’s too good.”
I groaned against her skin, happy to worship at her feet like I promised. I’d give her the best damn head of her life if it kept her smiling and satisfied. There was something so sexy about having my face buried beneath her skirt. I could only hear her rich, throaty moans and experience her fingers, yanking my hair, controlling my movements. I flicked light, teasing circles around her clit, building her back to another orgasm. My fingers dug into her thighs, tilting her hips up, exposing every part of her for my tongue, my lips, my mouth. My teasing licks became longer, harder, firmer. Her throaty moans became keening cries as every part of her shook and shook.
I’d never been a religious man. Making women come was the closest I came to prayer. With every woman I took home, I was deeply satisfied with their own satisfaction. That devotion was there, turning my rational thoughts to mush. But Fiona wasn’t some beautiful stranger I’d never see again. Her pleasure wasn’t just a fetish I enjoyed.
I wanted Fiona to come because it was Fiona. Because my little crush wasn’t a crush at all but real, romantic feelings, and I might have been walking on Mars for all the expertise I had in that area.
I wanted to fuck her, yes. But I also wanted to take her out for ice cream or to a movie that would make her laugh or pick flowers for her in a field somewhere…
Above my head, she cried out through another climax, pressing her thighs against my ears so hard they ached. After bringing her down gently, with soft kisses and sweet pressure, I finally flipped her skirt over my head and peered up at the woman I wanted to try for.
She smiled down at me, lazy and feline. Her hair was a snarled halo around her face. “I’ve been sufficiently worshiped.”
I laughed, holding her gaze as I bit down on her thigh. “You taste delicious, by the way.”
She sat all the way up. Then placed her finger beneath my chin as she kissed me. Slow and long, her fingers threading through my hair as the fire between us built higher and higher. “It’s never felt like that before,” she said. “Not on any date, not ever.”
“Any man that doesn’t make you feel like that every time doesn’t deserve you.” The kiss that followed was firm. I gathered her against me, kissing her harder, bending her back so I could fully fuck her mouth with my tongue. It never felt like this for me. It wasn’t that I had sweaty palms and clumsy limbs anymore.
It was that I suddenly believed I could leap tall buildings with ease for Fiona.
And if that didn’t mean I needed a doctor I didn’t know what did.
“You should fuck me now,” she whispered, fingers at my belt, then my zipper. “Like now.”
Lips still locked, I reached behind my head and tore my shirt off. Scooped her up before turning her back around, palms on the table. If the princess wanted rough, I was prepared to honor that request in the best way I knew how.
From the dirty look on her face, I knew I’d made the right call. I lifted the hair off her face so I could kiss along her throat and put on a condom at the same time.
“Fiona.” I kissed her again, sliding the condom down my cock. “I’ve wanted this since the moment you stepped out on to that fire escape. But I know what you want. And I understand what this means.”
We’d just had sex, were about to have more sex, and even though commitment scared the living shit out of me, I knew I wouldn’t be doing this if I’d been able to walk away. That had to make me different. I had to be different.
“I trust you,” she whispered, eyes locked on mine. There. Maybe that was all she needed. Not a concrete commitment but a promise to try my best. A trust that my intentions were pure. Which they were, even if my fear was unsettling and the complications of my upcoming move were extremely real.
But there was no turning back now.
I smoothed my hand down her spine, shifting her skirt high, revealing her round ass. I squeezed her possessively, kneading her skin, spreading her for my starved gaze. Fiona arched like a cat for me, let me tangle my fingers in all that hair and pull. With a deep breath, and every last bit of restraint I had, I thrust my cock deep inside of her. The pleasure was so intense and dizzying I had to tip my head against the back of hers, blowing out a big breath. My fingers bit into her waist as I seriously contemplated my ability to keep going.
She laughed. I wrapped my fingers around her throat and kept her mouth close to mine. “Something funny?” My voice was strained and ready to break.
“You feel incredible,” she sighed. “So fucking big.”
I slid all the way out, watching as I did. And then I rammed home, jostling her forward on the table. “You like it big, huh, gorgeous?”
“I like you,” she said. My ego tripled in size. Not because she’d complimented my dick but because I’d secured her affections. And she wasn’t the type to fall for just any man.
I thrust so hard she flew up onto her toes, releasing that laugh-sigh-moan again. “I like you too,” I murmured, kissing her cheek as I set a steady, punishing rhythm between her legs. I placed my palm in the square of her back and shoved her face toward the table. Kicked her feet wider and held her down.
I squeezed her ass again, wondering what else she liked. I wrapped my fingers gently around her throat, squeezing harder when she gave me that same dreamy, pleased smile.
“Do you want me to spank this perfect ass, Fiona?” I asked. “Is that the kind of rough that you like?”
She stretched her arms out, gripped the very front of the table and held on as I fucked her fast. “You would be the first.”
Possession—primitive and ancient—roared through me like a goddamn thunderstorm. Being Fiona’s first anything made me feel like a king on his throne. And she was lucky. I had a handful of little kinks that I liked, and spanking beautiful women happened to be one of them.
I paused my thrusts, only to press my chest to her back and caress her hair. I was deep at this angle, really deep, and her eyes fluttered with pleasure. “I’m going to mark you with my palm, but only in the way that you like. Only in the way that makes you comfortable, okay?”