She lay back and watched with hungry eyes that only hardened him further. “You’re so beautiful,” she choked out.
He shook his head and joined her on the bed. “No, you’re fucking gorgeous. Beyond anything I ever dreamed of. But you still owe me for that torment of the Brazilian.”
Her hands stroked his back, his buttocks, his thighs. Her gentle hands and sting of nails tortured his stamina. Dear God, he may not be able to last much longer, but he wanted her to be so aroused and wet, she’d never feel any pain when he took her for the first time.
“Do you like it?”
He kissed her deep and the rich scent of coconut from her body cream rose to his nostrils. “I need to investigate further.”
Her eyes widened.
“Orgasm number three.”
“Max, I don’t think—oh, God!”
He pushed her thighs apart and buried his mouth against the crease of her pelvis. No hair marred the perfection of her womanhood laid bare for his exploration. He pressed open-mouth kisses over her mound, down her thighs, over her belly. Used his fingers to separate her lips. And tasted.
Her cries grew frantic and sang in his ears. Her flavor of musk and earth and arousal overwhelmed him and he took every last drop, every thrust into her channel, every lick across her clit as a bestowal of his humbleness for her gift. Soon, she came again, and Max knew he was done. With trembling fingers, he grabbed the condom and ripped open the package. Sheathed himself. And slid back up her body.
Her dark eyes were blurred and hazy, and her body shuddered from her orgasms. “Baby, look at me.”
She fought for focus. “You win, I’m sorry.”
Her magnificence floored him. Would another woman ever compare? Was he wrecked for the rest of his life, as he pursued someone who could give as much as Carina?
“Ready for more?”
“Yes. Show me what I’ve been missing.”
He pushed in one inch. Another. She gripped his shoulders and asked for more. Sweat pricked his brow and his muscles tightened with excruciating agony. God, she was so wet and hot, but he didn’t want to hurt her. One more inch and he was almost halfway there. If he didn’t die first.
“Damn you,” she croaked out. “More. Don’t give me this careful bullshit, Maximus Gray. Take me now!”
He gritted his teeth and bore down. Then plunged.
Mine.
Wet satin and so tight he’d dived into heaven and hell. She wrapped her legs around his hips and dug her heels in deep. Head flung back into the pillow, she asked for more. And he gave it to her.
Every deep thrust squeezed him with blinding heat and need. He set a steady rhythm that soon exploded into a crazy ride of lust and want. Desperate, Max grabbed for the control to slow, but she wouldn’t let him. She cried and begged and demanded until he let go of his control and give them what they both wanted.
She tightened beneath him and exploded.
He followed her over. The orgasm splintered him into jagged pieces and he shouted her name.
He rolled and tucked her into the curve of his arms, pulling the sheet over them. He pressed a kiss into her tangled hair.
This virgin had just blown his mind.
• • •
Carina surfaced from the best sleep of her life. The room remained dark, and time blurred. Her muscles ached like a pleasurable morning-after workout. She stretched and hit a rock-hard chest.
Max.
In her bed.
Yes.
Joy bloomed. She wondered her whole life what it would feel like to have Max’s full attention in the bedroom. And damned if her fantasy paled to the reality. He was a fierce, savage lover who demanded all and gave it back. No wonder she hadn’t felt the urge to give away her virginity until now. Those gentle, polite seductions didn’t make her burn. Max’s fire and dominance satisfied something she never knew she possessed. Her body was wrung out and used as well as her heart.
Tonight was a rare gift of epic proportions. Her heart ached at the thought of the morning, but at least she’d have this precious memory and an in-depth knowledge of her soul.
“Don’t tell me you’re ready for round twenty-four.” He groaned and dragged her on top of him. His jet-black hair was deliciously mussed. The rough stubble around his chin emphasized the sensual curve of his lower lip. And boy could he do wicked things with those lips. Carina buried her face against his chest. A solid wall of muscle cushioned her cheek, and the crisp hair tickled her jaw. She ran her fingers over the whipcord length of his biceps and breathed in the delicious smell of sex, soap, and man.
“Those eight years really suck for stamina, huh?”
He grunted and smacked her buttocks. She yelped, but the pleasant sting only made her more aroused, and she wiggled over his suddenly hardening penis. “Brat. Will you ever be tamed?”