My lips purse together with a poorly concealed smirk as I perch on the arm of the couch. “Do you want to be a Zaddy?”
Max stops in front of me, the heated look in his eyes replaced with genuine confusion. “What is this Zaddy obsession you have?”
I giggle and shake my head. “It helps if you wrinkle your nose when you say it.”
He stares at me like I’m an idiot. I totally am.
“Come on…try it.” I nod my head toward him and know there is no way in a million fucking years that millionaire Max Fletcher will concede to me on this.
He licks his lips and tilts his head before lowering both hands onto the arm of the sofa, caging me in. He inhales deeply, dragging his nose along my neckline before locking his eyes on mine. His nose scrunches up, and he growls, “Zaddy.”
I fall backward onto the couch in a fit of giggles, curling my legs up into my chest. “I can’t believe you actually did it.”
He watches me with a smile and it’s quite possibly the hottest he’s ever looked. “You’re seriously weird.”
“I know.” I sigh happily. Jesus, I am happy. And we haven’t even had sex yet.
Max pulls his phone out of his jeans and checks it briefly before setting it on the end table. “Now are you going to be a good girl and take your clothes off like I told you to?”
He begins removing his jeans, so I eagerly scramble up off the couch and ditch my cotton robe and the pajamas that I took way too long to pick out. It’s a matching satin short set that makes my tits look good, and Max barely even notices it.
However, once I’m completely naked, the look in his gaze is a thousand times better.
Honestly, the past week, I had been fighting with my inner self that all those wonderful things he said about my body were just to get me into bed. A man like Max Fletcher couldn’t possibly be that attracted to a girl who shops in the plus-sized section of a department store.
Not that I hate my body. I don’t! Yes, I have stretch marks around my hips and breasts, and yes, my tummy is soft and jiggles when I move, and lord knows my ass and thighs have a plethora of dimples.
But for the most part, I can look in the mirror and like what I see. I see someone who has learned how to enjoy life outside the confines of society’s standard of beauty. I see someone who enjoys eating healthy and indulging when she wants to. I see curves and balance. I see a body that bounced back from a horrific experience that nearly killed her.
This is my body, and I love it.
And when Max stands gloriously naked before me and drags his fingers up my arms to cup my face and kiss me reverently, swirling away any shred of doubt left inside me, I decide right then and there to allow myself to believe that a man like Max could love my body too.
“See that?” Max turns me in his arms to press his warmth to my back as he points at the mirror mounted on the far wall. His body is tall and sculpted behind mine that’s rounded and soft.
“Yes,” I gasp as his hand reaches around to tug gently on the bud of my nipple.
His whiskers tease the shell of my ear as he murmurs, “You’re going to watch me fuck you from behind and I want you to never take your eyes off me, got it?”
I inhale a shaky breath and nod a bit too enthusiastically as my dark hair falls into my face. I demurely tuck it behind my ears and watch him over my shoulder as he pulls a condom out of his wallet and sheathes himself.
Big, long, beautiful dick.
He grips my waist and positions me over the arm of the sofa, giving my ass a playful smack before greedily palming it as he bends me over.
“I thought you weren’t Christian Grey,” I tease jokingly, staring at his sexy body in the mirror.
“I’m not,” he growls, gripping his cock and sliding his tip along my dripping wet center. It’s been wet since I left the workshop, and I swear it grows wetter every time he looks at me. “I’m Max Fletcher, and you can feel very free to scream that whenever you want, sweet cheeks.”
Without warning, he plunges deep inside me, and I cry out, my eyes struggling to stay open as I watch his abs contract as he pushes in to the hilt.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans and flinches as he pulls out and thrusts back in. “Every time, you’re so wet for me, Cassandra.”
“Yes,” I moan, my fingers digging into the couch cushion as I arch my spine and press back into him. My clit throbs between my thighs.
He slams into me again, his eyes watching me hungrily in the mirror. “Do you like watching me fuck you?”
I whimper out a strangled uhh-huhh before he picks up speed and begins pistoning into me at a rapid speed, grinding my clit against the sofa in a way that makes it damn near impossible to hold my head up. Holy shit, how can I watch him when everything in my body feels like it’s going to explode?
“Eyes on me always, sweet cheeks,” he instructs, bending over and sliding his hand up my chest to pull me upright. He gently grips my neck to force me to look at our reflection in the mirror.
“Oh, my God, Max,” I exclaim, overcome by the image of his large hand on my neck, holding me in place as he arches his cock up into me.
Fireworks fill my vision as my orgasm hits me out of nowhere.
Jesus, I think I just came off our reflection alone.
“Fuck,” Max barks, clearly caught off guard by my climax as well. He lowers me back over the arm of the couch and jackhammers inside me a few more times before calling out my name and finding his own release.
When he’s done, I allow my head to fall onto the cushion, and he falls over the top of me, both of our bodies slick with sweat as we struggle to catch our breaths.
“That was faster than I planned…again,” Max says with a huff.
I smile into the cushion and peel a strand of my hair out of my mouth. “The beauty of this arrangement is that there’s always next time.”
Max laughs and presses his lips onto my shoulder blade, sucking a spot softly before extracting himself from my body. He walks bare-assed down the hall to the bathroom and sets about his business as I heave myself off the couch and shakily slip into my robe.
When he comes back out, he’s got a seriously sexy smile on his face as he slips back into his black boxer briefs and stands before me like a Calvin Klein model.
I drop down onto the sofa and watch him curiously as he pulls his jeans up over his hips and leaves them unbuttoned.
“Hey, if we’re going to be doing this on a semi-regular basis, then I have to ask…what’s with your eye contact thing?” My eyes narrow to see what his body language does.
He sighs heavily and pauses his pursuit of putting on his T-shirt. “Uh…no, I’m not going there.”
“Why not?” I ask, feeling offended.
“Because it’s personal.”
“What do you think what we just did was?” I snap, not willing to let this one go. If he can be a nosy asshole, so can I. He checks his phone for a moment, and I fear he’s going to leave without telling me, so I offer, “If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?”
His eyes lift to mine, looking mildly intrigued. He clicks his tongue with a teasing smirk. “Depends how good yours is.”
I lick my lips and feel my cheeks heat.
“Shit, it is good,” he says with a dirty smirk and comes over to join me on the couch in all his shirtless, unbuckled jeans glory.