She, the Kingdom (She #1)(63)
“Do you think they’ll be finished?”
“Yes.”
“So confident,” I teased.
“I’ve been keeping tabs. I have an intolerance for disappointment.”
I wrinkled my nose. “When? I never saw you check your phone once.”
He simply winked at me, and then returned his attention to the road.
I turned to gaze at him, enjoying the way a content smile changed his entire face as we ripped down the road at seventy miles-per-hour. A green glow from the dashboard light surrounded us. He seemed to be deep in thought, checking off a list of items in his head.
“Hey,” I said. “No working on date night.”
“It just occurred to me. The Bentley is a two-door vehicle. Maybe not now, but someday that will be a problem.”
I tried not to smile. I willed my lips not to curve up into a ridiculous, giddy grin, but I couldn’t help it. He was thinking of my children.
“Max?”
“Yes?”
“I just fell in love with you.”
He looked at me with a surprised expression, and then he brought my hand to his mouth, glancing at the road briefly before pressing his lips to my skin. He shook his head, and then lowered our hands to the console, looking forward. “Most of the time I agree that I’m a bastard, but moments like this make me wonder if I’ve done something good at least once. Otherwise, I wouldn’t deserve you, right?”
I simply shook my head, not knowing how to respond. Never once had it occurred to me that Maxwell Kingston considered himself beneath me, or anyone. He was a man full of regrets, but I wasn’t one of them.
Max quickly pulled over to the side of the road, shoving the gear shift into park. He took each side of my neck in his hands and pulled me toward him, planting a kiss on my mouth. His warm tongue slid inside, making me more keenly aware of the cold air blowing from the vents. His thumb slid slowly down my throat, and then back up again, settling on my jaw. His left hand fell to my knee, and then he slid his palm up my inner thigh, his thumb tracing much more sensitive lines. I hummed, my body automatically and subtly drawn toward his touch.
“I can’t lie,” he whispered against my mouth. “I’ve fantasized about reaching up your skirt since I got home from work. You feel exactly as wet as I hoped you would.”
I kissed him harder, and then crawled over the console. His mouth moved against mine, controlled and undistracted, as he reached between the door and his seat for the adjustment buttons. He began to lean backward, and his seat retreated from the steering wheel, giving me more space to work with.
I reached down to unbutton his pants, and he groaned when I sat against his skin, only my already-soaked panties between us. His fingers dug into my thighs as I rotated my pelvis to slide over his erect, exposed cock. With every flick of his tongue against my neck, I imagined him working that magic against my clit, and silently cursed every time I’d had the opportunity to buck against his mouth but ignored it.
Max slid his finger between my skin and the outer hem of the crotch of my panties, sliding the cotton to the side to allow my skin to touch his. He moaned, his hips rising to meet mine, begging me to let him inside of me. I rubbed my entrance against his tip, reaching for his hands to put on my breasts, but he grabbed my ass and held me above him. His eyes stared into mine as he slowly lowered me, grinning as my eyebrows pulled together and my mouth fell open. The sensation of him filling me completely made the hairs on my skin stand on end, and the second my clit touched the base of his shaft, I was already on the verge.
I knotted my fingers in his hair, and my knees into the edges of his seat, rising and lowering myself onto his cock. The rhythmic slapping sound my thighs made against his only spurred me on to recreate it. He watched me with a sleepy, satisfied smile for the first minutes, but as I quickened my rhythm, his expression began to mirror mine. He looked down at his glistening dick sliding inside of me, disappearing every time I bent my knees, and I could see him struggle to resist his release. My thigh muscles and ass were burning, and even though Max seemed to want me to slow down, I was too close to stop.
Max tightened his ass and lifted his hips to sink himself deeper. My insides quickened, and Max bit his lip as he watched the release on my face. I cried out, writhing on his lap, closing my eyes when it became too much. I looked down at Max and rolled my pelvis, feeling his fingertips dig into my skin. As I rocked against him, this time slower, angling my body so I could massage his shaft at a different angle, he struggled to keep his eyes from closing, willing himself to meet my gaze as he came seconds after I did. His ab muscles tightened and spasmed as he uttered a mixture of curse words and terms of endearment. He hugged me to him as we tried to catch our breath. My heart was slamming against my rib cage, and my lungs burned from the short, intense workout, but I smiled as I touched my chest to his, and my forehead to the headrest.
As if he could read my mind, Max reached for the climate control knob and turned down the air. He relaxed back and gazed up at me. “God damn, woman. What did I do before you?”
I kissed his forehead and then climbed off, settling back into my seat.
He reached over and pulled the seatbelt across my chest, clicking the belt into the buckle. He kissed my neck just beneath my ear, and then zipped and buttoned his pants. He wiped a spot I’d left behind and licked his finger. “Have I ever told you you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted?”