Falling for Fangs - Page 69

It had taken two long, drawn-out kisses, one bottom squeeze, and finally, Chloe seating herself on Maxwell’s lap and nuzzling his neck before the poker group had realised that their presence was no longer required or welcome. Finally, Maxwell and Chloe were alone.

“It feels like far too long since I’ve had you to myself,” Maxwell said, not letting her up from his lap. “Like a lifetime.”

“It’s less than 48 hours,” Chloe objected, but as she undid the buttons of his shirt, she leaned in close. “But I know what you mean. I missed you. A lot.”

“And I you,” Maxwell said, heat surging in his groin as her slender fingers traced over his chest in the dim firelight. He slipped his hand into that honey-coloured hair, grasping her neat ponytail and kissing her, trying to put everything he felt and couldn’t say into a kiss that left her gasping.

“I want you,” she whispered. “So much.”

“I always want you, Chloe,” Maxwell growled as his shirt was tossed onto the poker table. “And you can always have me.”

“Can I really?” Chloe asked, but even as she bit her lip, looking at him under her lashes, he wondered if there was more to those words than simply being coy.

“Always,” Maxwell repeated, and right at that moment, with this woman astride him in the firelight, it felt like always was a real possibility for them.

But when Chloe began to tug impatiently at his jeans, her hand sliding under the waistband to wrap slender fingers around his achingly hard cock, all coherent thoughts tumbled out of his mind like wisps of smoke from the fire.

When she dropped to her knees in front of him, her intentions clear, Maxwell swore out loud.

“Chloe, you don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” Chloe licked her lips. Maxwell didn’t think he had ever seen anything so sexy, so beautiful as Chloe looking up at him like that. “Unless you don’t…?”

“No, I really want you to,” Maxwell’s words became a groan as those pretty, plump lips sucked over the head of his cock with a wet popping sound, loud, obscene, and utterly perfect in the quiet of the library. “Fuck!”

Chloe hummed around him, sending vibrations up and down the length of his shaft and surges of bliss through his body as she worked, but her eyes never left his. It was so intense, looking into those wide blue eyes as she sucked him like she needed him to know just how much she wanted him, how much she wanted to give herself to him. It sent a confusing rush of feelings, heady and demanding, through him even as pleasure fought to stamp out everything else.

With the image of Chloe’s mouth wrapped around him, her eyes fixed on his like there was nowhere she’d rather be, Maxwell felt orgasm rise embarrassingly fast. He guided her head back, his hair wrapped in her ponytail, his cock sliding against her spit-slick lips.

“You’re going to make me come way too fast.”

“That’s the point,” Chloe whispered, her eyes dark with desire and her hand still wrapped around his cock, teasing him with slow strokes.

“But what if I want you right now?” Maxwell said, taking her hands and pulling her back onto his lap. “Like this, riding me.” He peeled off her knitted sweater easily, hands moving over those round breasts in her lacy bra.

“I could be convinced.” Maxwell slipped a hand between her thighs, finding her so wet, so ready for him. “Actually, that’s a lie. I don’t need any convincing whatsoever.”

“Didn’t think you did,” Maxwell said, sliding a fingertip over her clit, circling, teasing, and making little moans escape her.

“Please,” she mouthed over his neck, almost like she might bite him. He really wouldn’t mind if she did. “I need you.”

Maxwell let out a groan as he guided the head of his cock right to her hot, wet entrance, making a sound of pure bliss as she pushed herself down onto him. Her tight heat squeezed around him, utterly encapsulating him, and it felt better than anything, anyone ever had before. Because it wasn’t just some woman, pretty enough, but utterly forgettable, riding him right now. It was Chloe. And that made all the difference. At that moment, Maxwell knew he was in too deep. He cared too much; his heart was very much on the line.

And he did not give a damn. Not when Chloe was bouncing her hips up and down over him, letting him guide her movements with his strong hands. Not when she was letting out those cries of bliss that told him this was every bit as sublime for her as it was for him. Not when she looked at him with those huge eyes and told him how good, how special, how important he was to her.

When Maxwell’s fingertips brushed her clit once more, Chloe let out a cry that was almost a scream. “Fuck,” she bit her lip. “That’s way too good.”

“Going to make you come for me, Chloe,” he promised. “I want to feel you, squeezing me tight, coming for me like a good girl. Do it.”

Chloe cried out again, unable to make words, burying her face into his neck, the sweet graze of her teeth on his flesh as she bore down on him, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. He knew she was right on the edge; if he kept touching her just like this, she’d come for him.

And he was right.

Tags: Rhiannon Hartley Fantasy
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