Dana Bell - The Wallflower

He pulled away from her. “Uh-uh, little Emma,” he purred. “No coming unless I’m in you, remember?”

She groaned as he moved down her body. His hands went to her lacy panties, thumbs hooking under the band. With slow deliberation he pulled them from her body, slowly exposing her to his hot gaze.

“You were right, Emma, to stop me before.” He looked up with a grin that made her moan. “I’d forgotten how much fun it is to play with my food.”

And with that, Max began a sensuous torture that had her writhing with need.

He began by slowly nibbling his way up her left leg, starting at her ankle and ending at her inner thigh, right next to her pussy lips. He then switched sides, once again kissing and nibbling his way up her leg until she was practically begging him to eat her.

When she felt the first hot swipe of his tongue on her pussy she came, screaming his name. With a purring rumble, he continued to lap at her until her orgasm subsided, the vibrations making the orgasm that much more intense. “Naughty, Emma. I wasn’t inside you.”

“Whoops.” Emma looked down at him with a lopsided grin.

“I’m pleased you’ve left your hands in place, though. So maybe, this time, I’ll forgo punishing you.”

Emma blinked. “And once again, Captain Caveman rears his ugly head,” she gasped. Max had started rubbing her clit in oh-so gentle circles, bringing her arousal back to near peak. “Max,” she sighed, her hips moving in time to his hand.

“Do you want to come, Emma?” Max asked, the heat in his gaze damn near burning her.

“Yes,” she sighed again, licking her lips as she stared down at him. “Please, Max.”

He shivered slightly. Then his rough tongue was once again on her clit, licking and nibbling as she gasped and moaned beneath his mouth. His finger had moved to her opening, circling slowly until finally settling inside her. He stroked her gently, matching his rhythm there to the movements of her body. His finger curved slightly, and Emma saw stars.

“Come, Emma,” he whispered, using his thumb to stroke her clit as his finger picked up speed. She didn’t even mind when he inserted a second finger; she was too busy seeing stars as her climax hit her with the force of a freight train.

When she came down from it, Max was gently stroking her soaking wet pussy. She opened her eyes to find he’d moved so that he lay next to her. With a satisfied smile, she pulled him down, kissing him lovingly. She could taste herself on his lips, and it added an element of eroticism she’d never felt before.

“I’m going to take you now, Emma.”

Emma shivered. She licked her lips, her body tensing slightly with nerves. “Okay.”

“Shhh.” He kissed her again, gentle and loving as he moved his body between her thighs. “I will never willingly hurt you, Emma.”

“I know,” she whispered, awed. This was Max, the only man who’d ever held her heart, and he was claiming her for his own. She gently clasped his shoulders as he began to slowly invade her body, his cock stretching her open. The slight burning pain caused her to dig her nails in. She bit her lip and forced herself to relax as much as humanly possible while slowly being invaded by a red-hot iron bar.

“So tight,” he gasped as he finally seated himself all the way inside her.

“Were your parents psychic?” Emma asked, gulping a little at the sting of his invasion.

Max frowned down at her confused. “No, why?”

“Are you sure? I mean, with a name like Max Cannon—”

“ Emma !”

“Sorry, but from the feel of things that can’t be a small caliber you’ve got shoved up there, boyo.”

Max leaned down, resting his forehead against hers as he started to laugh shakily. “I love you, Emma.”

“Oh boy,” she breathed as he slowly began to move.

“Is that all you can say?” He was grinning down at her knowingly, as if he had no doubts as to what her answer would be.

Emma felt all her old insecurities come to the fore, even as his cock had her gasping in pleasure. “Are you sure?”

He stopped, leaning down to kiss her thoroughly. “I’m sure.”

She stared into his face, reading the love there, the heat, the need. With deliberate slowness she raised her arms above her head and grasped the headboard. She lifted her head out and to the side in an instinctive show of submission, giving him her throat, accepting him fully. “Fuck me, Max.”

Max lost control for the first time in his adult life. His teeth bit into his mark as he began pounding into her body with little finesse. He fucked her into the mattress, and she loved every minute of it. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on for dear life as he once again sent her over the edge, her climax so strong she nearly passed out. The clenching of her body was enough to bring him off, his semen pouring into her in a tidal wave of wet heat. With a gasp that was almost a sob he collapsed on top of her, his breathing harsh and uneven, his heart pounding.

“I love you too,” she whispered, cuddling him close as he began to purr.

Max woke with the most incredible feeling of well-being he’d ever experienced in his life. Emma was

curled up against him, his arms around her protectively as she slept. Her luscious backside was nestled firmly against his morning erection, a situation Max totally approved of. Her scent was all over him, as his was all over her. His hips bucked forward involuntarily and he moaned as her hot, slick flesh stroked the head of his penis. God, he hoped she liked morning sex. And afternoon sex. And evening sex…

“Morning, Max.” Her voice was amused, rough from sleep and sexy as hell.

“For the love of God, please tell me you aren’t sore,” he whispered, practically begging.

Emma leaned up on one elbow, twisting around to stare at him. She wound up partially on her stomach, and Max’s eyes immediately zeroed in on that incredible ass of hers. “Not much, but honestly, other…issues…need to be taken care of first.” She blushed slightly.

Max looked at her uncomfortable face and grinned. “Bathroom’s that way.”

She was up and out of the bed before he’d finished pointing, sprinting naked across the room. Max leaned back and enjoyed the brief view he was given before the bathroom door shut behind her. He snickered when he heard her sigh of relief. He was grinning as he climbed out of bed and snagged his jeans.

“You want coffee?” he yelled through the bathroom door just as she flushed.

She opened the door, peeking around the edge. “You have tea?”

He thought for a moment, frowning, running a mental inventory of what his mother may have left behind on her last visit. “I have Darjeeling, Earl Grey and Spiced Chai.”

“Spiced Chai, sweet, with cream?”

“Coming right up. Borrow my toothbrush; we’ll pick up your stuff from your apartment later today.” He ignored her sudden frown and walked out of the room. He slipped his jeans on once he was in the hall and made his way to the kitchen. He whistled cheerfully as he began making her tea and his coffee, setting both machines to working as he contemplated what to make his prickly little mate for breakfast.

He pulled out the eggs, knowing he could at least make scrambled eggs and toast without looking like a total idiot in the kitchen.

“You owe me a shirt, Lion-O.”

He turned, his cock hardening as he saw his shirt on her. It practically swallowed her whole, and she looked damn fine in it. It didn’t hurt that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath it. Her tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips completed the just-fucked look.

Then he looked into her eyes and nearly dropped the eggs.