An Ounce of Hope(81)

"Max," she interrupted, placing her hand back on his cock.

He swallowed and closed his eyes as he spoke. "I want you to ride my face. I want you to come all over my mouth because I'm desperate to taste you. Then I want you to do the same to my cock, because I don't think I can wait another second not being inside of you."

Max opened his eyes when a low moan echoed around him.

"Jesus, O'Hare," Grace gasped. "You don't mess around, do you?"

"You mean . . . you like the sound of that?"

She bit her lip, dropped down next to him, and pushed her underwear off. Max kept his eyes on hers, even though he was nearly turning himself inside out with the need to see her fully naked. They breathed together, watching the other tenderly before Max spoke.

"You can get on whenever you're ready," he said. A burst of nervous laughter erupted from her, relaxing Max further. He knew he had to assure her, make her comfortable, but he continued to find himself fumbling. Fuck it, he was like a damned virgin, jumpy and about ready to come at the mere hint of a pair of spread legs.

"Stop," Grace said softly, placing a hand over his racing heart. "Stop overthinking it. I'm okay." She leaned over then, placing a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek. "I'm supposed to be the intimacy nutcase here, not you."

Max lay back. "In that case, have at me."

She lifted gradually, every movement steady, every shift of her body measured. She was fucking breathtaking to look at. She gripped the wrought-iron headboard and glanced at Max, her brow furrowing. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't," Max said quietly. "Please. You're fine. You look incredible." She raised her leg and dropped down so that she was straddling his chest and Max got a fucking epic view of every part of her, bare and perfect. He ran his palms up her thighs, to her waist, and back again, keeping his touch light so as not to panic her. "Come here. Let me taste."

Grace moved over him and, when his lips finally met the ones between her legs, Max was sure he saw fucking stars, and, oh, holy fuck, she was wet. Soaked. He groaned. Unable to be patient, his tongue slid against her clit, garnering from her a squeal of gibberish and a jump of surprise.

"Max! I- Oh."

Grace's hips swiveled and lifted, as though the feeling was too much, but Max held her legs softly, coaxing her body to ease against him, humming against her flesh. "It's okay. I've got you."




 

 

Her taste was fucking exquisite, creamy, and sour in all the right ways. Max hummed against her swollen clit and lathered every inch of her with his mouth. Grace writhed and moaned loudly. His rapid and willing tongue finally disappeared inside her, becoming a part of her, pulsing into her tightness with every surge and dip of her hips.

Shit, she smelled fantastic, too; the subtle hint of cocoa butter, along with the scent of her when they ran, set him alight. A deep sound from her throat came again when Max kissed her skin, letting his eager tongue and lips glide over her. He teased her clit between his lips, gently grazing her with his teeth, causing her to call out.

While his mouth tasted, his hands moved slowly across her stomach to the hips that were moving in figures of eight, driving him fucking insane. He gripped them gently and pushed his mouth firmly against her. An exquisite groan escaped her, forcing Max to do it again. He opened his eyes to see that her head had fallen back, her black hair spilling down her back, tickling his stomach when he breathed in. Max brought his hand up and stroked Grace's neck, feeling the thrum of her pulse under his gentle fingertips. She panted his name, spurring his tongue on until she was riding his face just as he'd hoped, thrusting and shuddering above him.

Grace's hand appeared suddenly, grabbing his hair and pushing his face harder against her. The fact that she wanted him this way, that she was enjoying it and wanted more, made Max's cock twitch between his legs.

Jesus.

"I'm- Oh, God!"

Fuck, Max had almost forgotten what it was like to hear a woman beg, plead, come on him, because of him. He sucked and licked, dipping his tongue into her again, softly at first, gauging her reaction, before he pushed it harder, feeling her body give to him, open up to him, welcome him with open fucking arms. His own body pulsed and wept as he feasted, his pulse thundered in his ears, and, when Grace began to cry out, he wished to all hell that he could see her face clearly as she came.

"I can't-it's . . . Yes, oh. Yes!" she chanted, bucking and crying out as she exploded on his lips.

He pushed his face farther into her, crying out for more of the wetness that drenched his mouth and chin. She laced her fingers together at the back of his head and held him to her body.