Page 157

The button on her jeans popped and the zipper came down. Max tore his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged as he tugged the shirt off her arms and tore open the clasp of her bra, the undergarment hitting the floor seconds later, joining her discarded top. Mia clawed at Max’s shirt, desperate to get him just as naked, but he ignored her, his complete focus on tugging the jeans down her legs, taking her panties with them.
Grabbing her hand, he led her to the couch and bent her over the elevated arm. She braced her hands on the cushion to steady herself, her breathing so hot and heavy that she was gasping, her red-hot need for Max making her come undone.
His palms gripped the cheeks of her ass, alternately cupping and caressing each one reverently. “Never run from me again,” he demanded harshly, his breathing ragged. “We belong together.”
Feeling his need to assert his claim and have her under his control, she murmured quietly, “Do it. I know you want to.” Everything feminine inside her responded to his dominance, moisture rushing heatedly between her thighs. “Do it.”
Max was right. She did belong with him, and to him, and she wanted him to claim her. She knew exactly what he needed right now, and she was squirming to feel the sting of his palm on her ass, an erotic pleasure that, coming from Max, would drive her completely mad.
“I can’t,” he answered, frustrated.
Mia knew why he was hesitating. “I know the difference between abuse and love play. For God’s sake, do it. And make me come,” she ordered him, unable to wait another moment.
“I’m not exactly playing,” Max hissed softly but dangerously.
His palm connected with her ass solidly, jolting her body and making her skin tingle with erotic pain and pleasure. It hurt, but the excitement of Max letting loose his dominant tendencies on her far outweighed the sting of his palm.
She wanted more…
And she got what she wanted.
The second and third impacts of his hand on her ass went straight to her core, the muscles clenching, begging for release.
Moaning aloud at the fourth smack, she begged, “Please, Max. Make me come.”
Her ass was stinging and her clit was throbbing for attention.
“Never leave me again, Mia. Not for any reason,” Max warned, his hand caressing her stinging cheeks and delving between her thighs. “Promise me.”
The masculine, commanding tone of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
“Touch me. Please,” she begged, desperate.
He teased her clit lightly, just enough to make her want to scream. Her entire body was one big mass of tangled heat and desire, ready to explode, and only Max held the power to make her detonate.
He smacked her ass again, followed by a caress to her cheeks and then a delicate teasing between her thighs. “Promise me,” he insisted, continuing the same pattern over and over.
Unable to speak, she moaned aloud, clawing at the leather of the couch cushion. Max was ramping up her need to implosion level, and she wasn’t sure she wanted it to stop, but her tolerance was at an end. “Yes. I promise. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he answered harshly.
His fingers slid between her saturated folds, finding her engorged, sensitive bud and gliding over it with persistent pressure. The pleasure was so heady, intensified by her stinging rear, so intoxicating that her legs trembled and a strangled cry left her lips as release rushed forward at a dizzying speed.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “You’re so hot, so wet. Let go. I’ll catch you when you fall.”
Mia did let go, with an orgasm that shattered her whole body, pieces of herself scattering everywhere as she rode the climax, whimpering and moaning incoherently as Max buried two fingers inside her, keeping the pressure on her clit with his thumb as she came, challenging her to take every bit of pleasure she could handle, plus a little more.
Max did catch her, just as he promised he would, wrapping a muscular arm around her waist to keep her steady, holding her while she came down gasping, her heart racing at insane gallop inside her chest.
Mia had no idea how much time had passed as she floated back down to earth. Max was holding her with one arm, while the fingers of his other hand were lightly stroking the curve at the top of her left buttock.
“What’s this?” Max asked roughly, his fingers tracing over a pattern at the top of her butt cheek.
He was fingering her tattoo.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Max’s t-shirt hit the carpet. She regretted not seeing him remove it with what had to have been a sexy, one-handed removal that probably would have made her salivate.
“You,” she answered honestly. “A red rose for true love, and your name.” The tattoo was small and delicate, a red rose in full bloom, tiny and detailed with simply the wordMaxwritten underneath.