Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(117)

But then came my halter top. And then my jeans. I sprinkled these up the stairs as I made my way to the bedroom. When I was about four steps from the top, I unclasped my bra and let it fall to the stairs. I didn't need to look back to know that Max hadn't moved from the foyer. I could feel his eyes on me, enjoying the show, yet trying like hell not to sprint up the stairs and carry me the rest of the way to our bed. Once I was upstairs and out of his eyesight, I took off my last remaining article of clothing: my black lace panties. I giggled to myself as I tossed them over the railing. When I heard his footsteps pounding against the floor in pursuit, I dashed toward our bedroom, laughing the whole way.

I stopped just before the bed and turned around, observing him as he slowly stalked toward me, as a predator would approach its prey. I watched him shuck his own clothing, so that when he reached me he was completely nude.

He laid his hands on my shoulders, and then began to drag them down my arms, before moving them to my stomach, and back up so he could fondle my breasts.

"I love seeing my hands on you," he said slowly, my body instantly responding to the sound of his raspy voice against my ear.

"I love feeling them there." I wanted to roll my head back and bask in the pleasure his hands were doling out, but there was something so primitively erotic about watching him appraise my body that I couldn't look away.

He stepped closer to me, his erection pushing into my pelvis deliciously.

"I thought you were playing hard to get?" I asked him.

His eyes shot to mine, their burning intensity rocketing warmth through my entire body. "I'm not hard to get. You've always had me.

For a few minutes after he spoke, we did nothing. We didn’t speak. We didn’t kiss. And truth be told, I couldn’t be sure if we even breathed. As always, I instantly got so lost in him, in us, that the thought of doing anything other than just being with him hadn’t even crossed my mind. I savored this time spent with him, and silently cursed myself for almost ruining the chance to experience it.

Eventually, his mouth moved purposefully toward mine, my lips meeting his with the same intensity. As much as I adored our ability to simply be, I loved these moments too. When a kiss began slowly, our tongues licking, pulling, and sucking until our hearts began to race faster and our breaths quickened.

I moaned against his mouth, my hands massaging down the length of his spine and back up again, feeling the pull of his skin beneath my fingers. He lowered me onto the bed and his hand immediately found my thigh, draping it over his hip so we could grind softly against one another. I felt myself get even wetter as his cock teased me until I was ready to beg to have him inside me.

His fingers danced tantalizingly down my legs and settled between my thighs. Reflexively, I thrust my hips against his hand, gaining the friction I craved. “So smooth,” he groaned out as he slid a finger inside me, expertly stroking the most sensitive part of me.

His fingers increased their speed, causing more of the slickness to slide into his palm as he swirled and stroked me toward orgasm. When my hand reached down to grip his shaft, he moved it away slowly. “Mmm-mmm,” he groaned teasingly. “You’ll feel me when I’m inside you. Not until then.”

I whined playfully, but the truth was I liked it. The idea that I couldn’t please him right away only turned me on more. He took his time licking his way down every inch of my body, across my arms and down my stomach to my toes and back up my legs, until his warm mouth finally ceased its torturously long journey and came to a stop at just the right spot.

Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed, he made love to me with his tongue—licking, thrusting, flicking, and sucking wildly until my need to have him inside me was excruciating. My subtle sounds grew steadily louder until I was sure the whole street knew what we were up to.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from screaming as his tongue and fingers worked inside me perfectly. “Please,” I finally begged, knowing that I couldn’t hold out much longer. But he didn’t let up. He teased me, bringing me just to the brink of orgasm before slowly tapering off his movements. God, he knows me better than I know myself.

Slowly, he brought his mouth back up to mine, kissing every speck of skin on the path up to my lips. I writhed beneath him, waiting impatiently for him to fill the emptiness in me that only he could ever fill. Then he pulled away for a moment, his gaze finding mine before speaking. “What is it you want?” he asked, a slight smile peeking out from the corners of his mouth.

I stilled my body before speaking, my eyes returning his intimate stare. “What I always want,” I said simply, knowing he loved to hear it. “You.”

And that's exactly what he gave. What he'd always given. And as he thrust solidly into me, causing my body to climb even closer toward release, I was so incredibly thankful for getting this chance that I really hadn't deserved. And as he pounded into me and brought me to the brink of shattering, love swelled even more in my chest because I knew that he'd be there to pick up the pieces after. In his arms, I'd always be whole.

"Let go, doll. I wanna see you fall apart beneath me."

I met his thrusts, my hands roving wildly over his body, until finally my body seized and my orgasm rocked through me.

He continued to pump inside of me, causing my body to continue to shake as my muscles contracted, making me even tighter for him.

He groaned his release, emptying inside of me. "God, I'm so glad we stopped using condoms. The feel of you around me with nothing between us is incredible." He lowered himself onto his side so that half of his body draped over me.