An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)(54)

“Show me more,” he murmured, looking at her through his long black lashes. “It’s just us. Be brave with me. Let me see you.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Grace lifted the hem of her top up and over her head, leaving her in a hot pink bra and yoga pants. Max hummed a deep, sensual sound that curled Grace’s toes and reached his hands to her collarbone. She didn’t even flinch.

“That’s it,” he sighed. “Look at you.”

His touch was fire and safety and awoke a dormant part of Grace that had her reaching to unfasten the hooks at her back.

Max noticed her movement and huffed out a breath. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

“I want to let go. I want you to see. I want to be brave,” she whispered and unhooked, pulling the cups away from her chest and the straps from her shoulders, so they were both naked from the waist up.

“Sweet Jesus,” Max uttered. “You’re . . .” His fingers slid across her collarbone and down. His gaze flickered to hers the closer he got to her breasts, caution in their depths. “All right?”

“Yes.”

And she was. Oh, God, she was. She felt alive in his hands, and when he finally touched her nipples and cupped her in his palms, she moaned a sound she didn’t know she was capable of. It was relief, gratitude, and yearning for more. He groaned, too, as he squeezed her gently, tweaking her nipples between his thumb and forefingers, moving closer.

His tongue poked out between his open lips. “You have such great tits.” His thumb circled her. “Perfect. Look how they fit my hands.” He watched, his gaze hot and enraptured as her breasts moved and rippled under his ministrations. “Fuck, Grace, I want— Will you let me, can I suck them?”

His words were so unintentionally erotic, Grace could do nothing but nod.

He leaned closer. “I’ve got you. You’re safe,” he murmured. “And so f*cking sexy.”

And then his mouth was on her.

His burning tongue wound around her nipple, flicking, teasing, and sending electricity coursing through her veins. It was wet, sloppy, and made Grace call out and sag against him. He hummed into her skin, sucking harder, grabbing tighter, breathing harder. Grace’s body twitched and grew wet, desperate for friction, but fearful of having his body over hers, holding her down. She pushed her hands into his hair, sighing at its thickness between her fingers, wanting nothing more than to bury her nose into it and breathe him in. She held him close.

She was safe, she reminded herself. He wasn’t going to hurt her.

“Feels so good,” she murmured, knowing from the ache between her legs that she could easily come from his mouth on her chest alone.

Max’s reply was muffled but loud and, when Grace looked, she saw that he was rubbing himself furiously through his sweats with the heel of his hand.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, yearning flashing through her. “Please let me see.”

His mouth never moved, but his eyes darkened impossibly further as they flickered up.

“Could you come?” she asked. He nodded, his lips sliding against her. “Show me.”

He pulled down his waistband and underwear faster than Grace could take another breath. The head of his cock slapped his belly, glistening and so very hard. No cock she’d ever seen was pretty, but Grace would say that Max’s was magnificent. He was thick and long and when he twisted his fist over its bulbous tip, Max moaned and sucked her harder. That was good to know for when she touched him there.

And she would touch him there.

There was no question.

Desire curled in her belly, tighter and tighter as images of them doing more, going further, pummeled her mind until she, too, was pushing her hand into her pants and into her underwear. She was drenched and burning. One swipe of the pad of her thumb against her clit and her back arched. Her head hit the headboard and she cried out.

Max released her nipple with a loud smack of his lips, his eyes widening when he saw what she was doing. “Fuck, are you touching yourself?”

She bit her lip and nodded—his words gasoline to an already furious inferno. “Close.”

Even though her eyes were closed, Grace knew Max’s fist had sped up. The bed shook and his grunts got louder, his breath hot and wild on her throat.

“Are you imagining it?” he asked. His voice was wicked, dark, and hungry. “Are you imagining what my fingers would feel like on you, in you? What my cock would feel like as you rode it?”

So close.

So near to falling.

“Yeah, you are. I know you are. You know I’d f*ck you so good.” He licked her jaw. “Right after I’d devoured you down there, I’d slide right in and have you screaming my name.” He heaved a breath. “I’d do anything you damn well wanted me to, woman. Anywhere. Shit. Fuck, Gracie, can I come on you?”

And those were all the words she needed to explode into a thousand pieces.

As her back bowed and white-hot ecstasy all but sliced her in two, Grace was aware of warmth splashing up the middle of her torso, while Max’s guttural groans were enough to keep her orgasm rolling incessantly through every inch of her body. She wished she’d been able to see him come, but her eyes were forced shut by the pleasure vibrating her very bones, bright lights filling her vision. She pulsed and gasped while Max’s voice became gruff and breathless in her ear.