“Maxwell?” I chimed when I reached the top of the steps. He sauntered across the room and then a low lamp flicked on, illuminating the small but tidy space. It looked like a bachelor pad, lacking in that certain feminine touch.
“Can I get you a drink?” He turned, as if in answer. I shook my head, thinking it’d be better if I were clear-headed in this situation. I was drunk enough on Maxwell’s sex pheromones as it was.
“I just—maybe this is going too fast,” I said, twisting my hands together, ready for him to completely agree and show me right back down the stairs. You’re too fat, Elle. You’re not smart enough, Elle. What could he possibly see in you, Elle? You’ve never been with a man like him in your life, what are you thinking?
“Here.” He presented a glass of red wine and I suddenly was thankful he hadn’t listened to me when I’d declined.
“It’s like you're trying to get me drunk or something,” I buzzed, already feeling lightheaded.
“I am.” His voice rumbled in my ear before his hands slid up my thighs and inched my shirt up my waist.
“Maxwell,” I stumbled, choking on the wine and the anxiety crawling up my throat.
“Another word and I’ll fuck you against that glass for all of downtown to see.” He spun, showing me the window in question. My stomach swam and my knees swayed as he bent me over the arm of his couch, his palms fisting at the cheeks of my bottom, before he flipped my skirt to his gaze. The cool air of his apartment, in contrast to the hot breath at the tops of my thighs, flooded my insides with arousal, making me desperate to feel him. His tongue, his fingers, his everything…
I bit my lip, dubious of uttering a sound for fear of his threat of fucking me in front of the window—it wasn’t even dark yet; there were still children playing in the town common. Just how would it look if the librarian was seen screwing his younger assistant?
I hummed when he ripped down my panties, leaving them twisted at my knees before his hands were kneading at the globes of my ass, his thumbs teasing dangerously close to…
Oh god, his tongue.
His tongue was there.
He lapped at my exposed entrance, engorged with need for his body, his fingers working in a quick rhythm at my clit before slowing down and swirling my juices with deft fingers. His tongue plunged in and out of my entrance as his hands continued to rub at my flesh and ease away the anxiety in massage-like strokes.
My thighs twisted and I clutched at the leather of the couch, wishing desperately that I could have him in bed the first time. See him, face to face, connect somehow more than—
“Fuck, you’re sweeter than I thought you’d be.” The rough stubble at his jaw abraded my over-sensitive nerves, his roughened fingertips that’d flicked a thousand pages on a thousand different books, the very same I’d dreamed about sitting behind the circulation desk while watching him read, were rubbing at my clit. “Oh god,” I ground as an orgasm tore through me, like a zip-line from my clit out into every nerve of my aroused body. “I could do that again.” I smiled, dazed and finally releasing my grip on the poor couch cushions.
“Oh, we’re going to.” He gripped my waist and hauled me to him, crashing his lips on mine and thrusting his arousal-sweetened tongue into my mouth, forcing me to taste myself in a way I never imagined could be such a total turn-on. Maxwell’s grip tightened on my legs as he pulled me around his waist and turned, hauling me back to the bedroom. Without flicking on the flight, I landed in a whoosh of cotton on his bed, his heavy form caging me in, never once stopping his assault on my lips.
“Maxwell?” I uttered, one thing on repeat in my mind.
“Hmm?” he uttered as his hands clawed at my dress, pulling the neckline down so my boobs bulged out. For a moment, I thought he was going to tear me right out of the dress. He stopped when one hard nipple fell free of the fabric and he attacked it with his blazing hot mouth.
“I-” I choked on the words rambling in my head as the sight of his decadent lips sucking on my plump nipple nearly sent another orgasm rocketing through me. “Maxwell, I-”
“Spit it out, Gorgeous,” he purred, a crooked smile gracing his lips before he attached to my breast again, his tongue flicking, his lips sucking and kissing. I couldn’t think straight; god, this was so good. Too good. My nerves tingled as his other palm pushed the panties off my feet and hiked my skirt above my waist, exposing my clean-shaven body to the night air.
“Maxwell—” I moaned as one swift digit ran up my soaked slit and fried my brain. Maxwell Black’s fingers were sliding inside my body.