Stain (Stain #1)(57)
“Goddamn.” Blinking at the words, I look at him. His eyes narrow, but they glint like diamonds on his face as he trails his gaze down the length of my body. Shivers ripple along my skin as though he just touched me. Goose bumps rise as I get caught in the intensity of his eyes. “You’re beautiful.”
My first and only instinct is to deny him. “No.” I smile weakly to fight the sting of tears behind my eyelids. “I’m not.” I reach for the sheets beneath us to cover myself but he grabs my wrists and pulls them over my head before I can, trapping them there with one manacling hand. He uses the other to cup my chin to look at him.
“You’re so f*cking stunning.” It’s a fervent, uncontested assertion, and he bends over me to seal it with a kiss. It’s gentle and slow. So hot and carnal. It awakens an electric storm inside of me that crackles uncontrollably beneath my skin, shooting out sparks in every direction of my being. I come alive for him as he laps the inside of my mouth like he’s trying to savor my taste.
I’m so incredibly aware of how my body responds to him, and I begin to writhe beneath him. “So damn stunning to me.” I gasp and strain against him, dazed by the current of arousal buzzing through me. I don’t realize his hand is in between my legs until he hooks a finger between my soaking flesh and panties. He moves them aside with ease and very delicately slides the tip of his finger down and back up again, gently, slowly, teasingly playing in my slickness. I shudder as more heat melts my flesh.
Instantly my eyes are clenching shut, my kiss-bruised lips press up against his, needing his breath because mine isn’t enough. I wriggle to free myself of his grasp, needing to touch him, needing to wrap my arms around him to feel with my entire being how real this moment is. I need to know it’s not just a spectacularly vivid fantasy my mind is conjuring for my sake. “Maddox…please. I want to touch you.”
He shakes his head, and his grip on my wrists remain unyielding as he breathes harshly in my ear. “If I let you touch me, I’m going to bust.”
In saying that, he eases one thick finger inside my entrance and gives me exactly what I’ve been yearning for but haven’t been able to name until he shows me. “And we’re not even close to that yet.” A long, toe-curling moan slips from my lips as he rubs his thumb across my clitoris, while his finger moves in and out of me. I buck, driving his hand deeper as I jerkily move my hips, trying to find the rhythm of his finger.
His lips descend on my right nipple, taking the perked, dusky tip into his mouth. He sucks gently, circling it with the hot wetness of his talented tongue before flicking at it until I’m a writhing, shuddering mess beneath him. My body arches into the wetness, twisting and moving to receive more. I gasp and moan with a fluttering pulse and racing heart. He lifts his dark head and moves to the other breast, kissing and sucking all around until the crawling heat of his mouth finds the other nipple. He clamps it between his teeth and allows his tongue to swirl and stroke while carefully nibbling the hardened bud into a stunningly sensitive peak. I suck in a breath and then another, just when I think I can’t stand it, just when the coiling tension gathers like a volcano ready to burst, he pulls away, leaving me a delirious and frustrated on his bed.
Looking to my left, I see him rummaging for something in his bedside table before he turns back. Eyes like a hawk are train on me as he removes his clothes with speediness that astounds me. Shirt, jeans, and socks fly in the air. He’s masculine perfection in his fitted, black briefs. My eyes trail the length of his muscular physique before landing on the all-too-noticeable bulge tenting the briefs. I swallow hard. My soaking core pulses, clenching and unclenching my walls, and I’m not entirely sure if it’s from anticipation or fear. But then it becomes clear that it’s most definitely the former when he slides those briefs down his powerful legs to reveal the entirety of his gloriously hard nine-inch manhood.
Hard, dark, and raw desire strokes my insides like a lover’s tongue. Like Maddox’s tongue. Arousal drips between my already-soaking flesh just looking at him. I’m a willing pagan ready to sacrifice at his altar, wanting, needing, craving the invasion of his nine inches like life itself depends on it. What’s even more arousing is watching him grab himself, tear a small square platinum foil between his teeth, and bring the glistening condom to the bulbous head of his cock. Slowly he slides it down the veiny shaft before climbing back onto the bed. He stretches out over me and instinctively I tilt my hips up to cradle him. Bare skin to bare skin, we’re the same scorching temperature. Taking first my left arm, he drops breathy kisses along my skin, provoking a burst of goose bumps that cover me from head to toe. Setting that arm around his neck, he carries out the same heart-wrenching and tender action to the other arm, before bringing it to join the other one. He gathers me up close to him with raw, masculine need and I succumb to his power.
Lowering his head, he looks down at me with fire in his eyes. “Last chance to stop me.” He says it so softly against my lips, I can taste the strain in his voice.
I can feel him at my entrance and I can feel the amount of control it’s taking him not to do what comes naturally for him. He’s shaking from the force of it.
I kiss him. “No stopping.” Brazenly, I lick his lips. “I want to feel you. Make me feel every inch of you.”
He gives me my wish. Gently, slowly, he pushes in at first, and his thickness stretches me, fills me, and then he comes across the paper-thin wall of my virginity. “Aylee…” It’s a tortured groan murmured against my cheek. “Jesus, f*ck. You’re so tight.”