Love Bug (The Prescotts Book 3) by Tara Wyatt (electric book reader .TXT) 📗

but before could make the choice she burst, her pussy clenching and rippling wildly around Max’s fingers. Her entire body felt heavy with the pleasure pounding through her, her head thrashing on the pillow, her hips writhing as she moaned and gasped for air. She felt wet—so incredibly, almost embarrassingly wet. Slowly, Max slipped his fingers free and then nuzzled his face against her pussy, licking her gently.

Her hips shifted and she whimpered, not sure how much more she could take. She was about to ask him to stop when he sucked her clit into his mouth again and every single muscle she had went taut.

“Max,” she moaned, spearing her fingers into his hair. Holding him where he was once again building her up with that talented mouth of his. Those sucking kisses on her clit were going to be the death of her, but damn. What a way to go.

With a long moan, she came again, her clit throbbing against Max’s tongue. Her vision blurred around the edges and she felt light headed, her arms and legs shaking.

He nipped at her outer lips, teasing them with his teeth. “I don’t want to stop eating your pussy,” he said, his voice rough. “But I’m gonna fucking explode if I don’t get inside you.”

“I think I’m going to like that best of all,” she said softly, feeling completely boneless.

Max rose to his knees, the shadows highlighting the planes of his chiseled physique, roped with muscle. “You shouldn’t—” He started to say, but cut himself off, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

“I shouldn’t what?” she asked, an echo of the earlier doubt returning, chasing away the buzz of her orgasms.

He shot her a smile, and oh God. He never smiled. Ever. Seeing it now was like watching the sun come out after a long winter. Beautiful and glorious. The skin around his eyes crinkled, shifting the entire appearance of his face, making him look younger.

For a brief moment, he looked happy, and she realized that she’d never seen him like that. He was always so grumpy, so gruff and distant. But not tonight, apparently, and God, it made her foolish heart hope.

He shook his head, shoving a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled. “Nothing.” He rose from the bed and undressed the rest of the way. She bit her lip at the sight of him, long and thick and huge. It was a good thing he’d made her wetter than the freaking ocean, because otherwise she wasn’t sure he’d fit.

He opened a drawer in a bedside table, pulling out a condom. She couldn’t help but notice that the box was already opened, that at least a few of the condoms were gone. A completely unexpected wave of bitter jealousy gripped her. Who had he used the condoms with? How many other women had he had in this very bed? Unwelcome words flashed through her brain, smashing the bit of hope she’d had to shards: you’re not special. This is a pity fuck.

Given her feelings for him, maybe what they were about to do was a huge mistake. A colossally bad idea.

But then, before she could figure out what to do, what to say, he ripped open the condom and rolled it down his thick length, stroking his cock with a rough hand. And then, holding her gaze, he climbed back onto the bed, easing his weight down on her and taking her mouth in a slow, deep kiss.

She wrapped her legs around him, thrilling at the feel of being so surrounded by him, so sheltered. He slipped a hand under her ass and tilted her up, shifting the angle slightly so that his cock slid against her swollen, sensitive pussy. She gasped, not just from the sensation but from the electrical charge racing through her at the knowledge that she was finally about to have him inside her. This man she’d spent the past several months wanting more than anything.

He teased them both, sliding his cock over her wetness again and again, coating himself in it. Kissing her again, he eased just the head of his massive cock inside her and then stopped.

“Tell me you want this,” he said, his voice gruff and low.

She tilted her hips up, trying to take more of him. “I want you, Max. Please. Fill me up like we both want.”

He moaned and pressed into her a bit more. Despite how wet she was, she still sucked in a sharp breath at the stretching burn radiating through her.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he said, flexing his hips slowly, working his cock in deeper. With one hand still on her hip, he braced himself up on his elbow, staring down at her, his gaze alert and focused. “Just breathe.”

She took a deep breath, wondering if he could feel just how hard and fast her heart was beating against her chest. Wondering if he had any idea whatsoever what tonight meant to her, even if it was just a pity fuck on his part.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, so quietly she wasn’t even sure the words were meant for her, and then he pushed the rest of the way inside, burying himself to the hilt.

Oh, God. Oh God oh God oh God. Max Prescott was inside her.

The orgasms before had been incredible—hot and amazing and intense—but this, having him, this man she’d felt incredibly drawn to from the first time she’d ever seen him, inside her, was something else.

He pressed his forehead to hers, his intense blue eyes pinning her down more than his muscled weight ever could. Moving his hips slowly, he established a deep rhythm, sending fresh pleasure rocketing through her, making her hold him tighter, her toes curling.

“You feel so good inside me,” she said, dragging her lips over his jaw, wanting to memorize the taste of his skin. “It’s so perfect, Max.”

“Fuck, Willa,” he ground out, starting to move a little faster. “You feel amazing. Even better than I ever—” But he cut himself off for the