Without pausing, Max carried her through the kitchen, past the breakfast nook and into the great room.
The sage green walls, cherry floors and white trim carried through into this room. A vaulted ceiling with skylights gave the room the feeling of being huge. A large reddish brown leather sofa dominated the great room. It rested on a bold area rug done in a geometric pattern of reds, blacks and greens. It faced a set of built-in cherry cabinets along one wall that doubled as the entertainment center with bookshelves on either side. The fireplace, on the opposite wall, was decorated with the same fieldstone that was outside the house. She caught a glimpse of the huge double doors at the front of the house before Max carried her past the fireplace down a short corridor and through another door.
A king size cherry wood sleigh bed dominated the room. It was covered in a crazy quilt of geometric designs in bold blues, reds and blacks. He’d painted the walls a warm terra cotta, with framed black and white prints by Escher, whimsical brain twisters that would normally capture her attention but, now, barely registered.
She could make out the master bathroom through the open doorway, barely. The cabinets in there appeared to match the ones in the kitchen, but the room was dominated by the massive oval tub, surrounded by rich, highly polished tumbled stones inset with black ceramic diamonds. The same tumbled stone was on the floor. The room had been painted a dark red wine color.
Emma realized Max had stopped moving. Looking up at him, she found him staring down at her with a quizzical look. “Well?”
Emma blushed. She’d been rubbernecking in Max’s house, trying to take in everything at once. “It’s incredible.”
He smiled with satisfaction. “If there’s anything you want to change, you’ll have to let me know.” Gently he placed her on the quilt. “This is now as much your house as mine.”
Emma’s mouth fell open as he toed off his shoes and socks. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Max began unbuttoning his shirt, diverting her attention from his whole “Mi casa es su casa” attitude. “I was in Simon’s shop when you called about the Madonna, you know.”
“Oh. Really?” she replied absently. She could barely speak as Max unveiled the finest chest it had ever been her privilege to see. It was lightly sprinkled with light brown hairs, trailing down his stomach to point directly into his pants. Dark brown nipples peeped out from the hair, tempting her into some very sinful thoughts.
“Yes, I was. And you know what?”
Emma didn’t know her own name; Max was unbuttoning his jeans. “Um, nope.”
“You live up to your voice,” Max purred as he slipped his jeans down his legs.
“Urgh,” Emma choked, “naked.” She could feel her eyes bugging out of her head. Max went commando. A sinful buffet of man-flesh was laid out before her in one single sweep of his hands. She didn’t know whether to sigh or to sob.
“Yes, I am.” Max laughed huskily. “Now it’s your turn.”
Emma bit her lip, a sudden attack of shyness nearly paralyzing her. Max didn’t know it yet, but he’d be
her first, and from the look on his face she’d better tell him soon.
“Max?” Emma sat there, her hands clenched in her lap, her gaze riveted to his cock. The thing looked huge, all veined and red, and pointed straight at her. A small drop of liquid seeped from the slit. It twitched a salute to her rapt attention.
“Yes, Emma?”
Her gaze lifted to his; unknown to her, they’d turned pure, molten gold. “You remember the talk of other men?”
He growled low in his throat and crawled onto the bed.
“Eep,” she whispered, lying down as he prowled up her body.
“You were saying?” he whispered huskily as he settled his naked body between her thighs. He brushed against her cheek with his lips, a caress so soft she barely felt it. It sent a shiver down her spine. Those same lips continued their incredible journey, trailing down the side of her neck to settle on the bite he’d given her outside the restaurant. Goose bumps raced up and down her arms as he moved his hips in a sinuous motion, brushing his naked cock against her mound.
“Um, there weren’t,” she squeaked, unconsciously arching up into his body as he scrapped his teeth along his mark.
“Weren’t what?” he muttered, one hand moving up to start sliding her camisole up her stomach. He paused long enough to caress her there, trailing fire in his wake.
“Any other men.”
His hand stopped.
His mouth stopped.
His hips stopped. She was really sad when his hips stopped.
“You’re a virgin?” His voice sounded oddly strangled.
“It’s not a crime to be one, you know. I’m not the Oldest Living Virgin, or anything. It’s not like I’m in the Guinness Book of World Records,” she babbled. “Besides, I’ve done other things…oh!” His hands had started moving again, with a swiftness that startled her. Her camisole was toast as he ripped it literally from her body, his claws barely scrapping her skin, sending shivers of need once again down her spine.
Claws?
Emma had barely registered the fact that Max had used his claws to ruin her favorite shirt when he started working on her jeans. “No! Bad kitty!” She slapped him on the top of his head, determined to save at least some of her wardrobe.
He lifted his head, his eyes golden and burning, a rumbling sound emanating from his throat as he pinned her hands above her head. Emma thought about struggling, but something about the way he looked had her lying passively. “You’re a virgin.”
Emma blinked, unsure how to respond. “Duh.”
Max stared down at her, his eyes narrowing as he studied her features as if seeing her for the very first time. “No man has ever touched you.”
She thought about telling him about the make-out sessions her one and only boyfriend had talked her into, the oral sex they’d indulged in a few times, but decided that discretion was the better part of valor.
Jimmy was a nice guy, and deserved to live. “Again. Duh.”
“No man will ever touch you again.”
Emma studied granite-like features above her. “Even you?” The growl deepened. She sighed, inexplicably happy to hear that sound. “Okay.” She rolled her eyes. “Duh.” She grinned. “By the way, Lion-O, that was my favorite shirt.”
He looked down. “Damn, Emma.”
“What?” She looked down, expecting to see something odd, like very dried alfredo sauce decorating one boob or something. Instead she saw the pale pink lace bra she’d put on that morning, the one that was completely see-through. It helped give her confidence to feel the sexy lingerie against her skin, so much so she’d replaced all of her old undies with the lacy stuff.
From the look, and feel, of things, Max definitely approved.
Max switched her wrists into one hand. The other trailed down her body to her jeans, undoing the snap and zipper with ease. “Lift your ass, Emma,” he commanded. She obeyed without thinking, shifting so he could ease her jeans down her legs.
He hissed out a breath at the sight of the pale pink lace panties that matched the bra. Underneath, she was hairless. “A full Brazilian,” he sighed.
“Uh-huh.”
He moved his hand and began petting her over her panties, cupping her intimately. “Mine,” he sighed.
His golden eyes bored into hers, a silent command in them. “Keep your hands where they are.”
“Why?” Emma complied as Max moved his hand slowly from her wrists, trailing down her arm to the side of her breast.
“Because I’m not ready for you to touch me yet. I want this first time to be yours.”
“I’d rather it was ours.” She gasped as his hand gently embraced her breast. His thumb strummed gently over her nipple, causing it to peak under the pink bra.
“Trust me, Curana. The pleasure will be ours.” Slowly, oh so slowly, Max lowered his head. His tongue snaked out and licked over her nipple through the lace, watching her reactions as she gasped softly. “I’m going to get you naked now, Emma.” He lifted his head from her breast. “Leave your hands where they are. Remember, Emma.”
Max gently pulled the cups of her bra down, resting her breasts on the lowered cups until they looked
like an offering laid out on pink lace. He bent and suckled one nipple into his mouth, stroking it with his tongue until she writhed against him, panting and moaning in need. He switched to the other nipple, suckling and nipping with such force it was nearly painful. Emma panted, damn near coming from the sensation.
He pulled away from her. “Uh-uh, little Emma,” he purred. “No coming unless I’m in you, remember?”
She groaned as he moved down her body. His hands went to her lacy panties, thumbs hooking under the band. With slow deliberation he pulled them from her body, slowly exposing her to his hot gaze.
“You were right, Emma, to stop me before.” He looked up with a grin that made her moan. “I’d forgotten how much fun it is to play with my food.”
And with that, Max began a sensuous torture that had her writhing with need.
He began by slowly nibbling his way up her left leg, starting at her ankle and ending at her inner thigh, right next to her pussy lips. He then switched sides, once again kissing and nibbling his way up her leg until she was practically begging him to eat her.
When she felt the first hot swipe of his tongue on her pussy she came, screaming his name. With a purring rumble, he continued to lap at her until her orgasm subsided, the vibrations making the orgasm that much more intense. “Naughty, Emma. I wasn’t inside you.”
“Whoops.” Emma looked down at him with a lopsided grin.
“I’m pleased you’ve left your hands in place, though. So maybe, this time, I’ll forgo punishing you.”
Emma blinked. “And once again, Captain Caveman rears his ugly head,” she gasped. Max had started rubbing her clit in oh-so gentle circles, bringing her arousal back to near peak. “Max,” she sighed, her hips moving in time to his hand.
“Do you want to come, Emma?” Max asked, the heat in his gaze damn near burning her.
“Yes,” she sighed again, licking her lips as she stared down at him. “Please, Max.”
He shivered slightly. Then his rough tongue was once again on her clit, licking and nibbling as she gasped and moaned beneath his mouth. His finger had moved to her opening, circling slowly until finally settling inside her. He stroked her gently, matching his rhythm there to the movements of her body. His finger curved slightly, and Emma saw stars.
“Come, Emma,” he whispered, using his thumb to stroke her clit as his finger picked up speed. She didn’t even mind when he inserted a second finger; she was too busy seeing stars as her climax hit her with the force of a freight train.
When she came down from it, Max was gently stroking her soaking wet pussy. She opened her eyes to find he’d moved so that he lay next to her. With a satisfied smile, she pulled him down, kissing him lovingly. She could taste herself on his lips, and it added an element of eroticism she’d never felt before.
“I’m going to take you now, Emma.”
Emma shivered. She licked her lips, her body tensing slightly with nerves. “Okay.”
“Shhh.” He kissed her again, gentle and loving as he moved his body between her thighs. “I will never willingly hurt you, Emma.”
“I know,” she whispered, awed. This was Max, the only man who’d ever held her heart, and he was claiming her for his own. She gently clasped his shoulders as he began to slowly invade her body, his cock stretching her open. The slight burning pain caused her to dig her nails in. She bit her lip and forced herself to relax as much as humanly possible while slowly being invaded by a red-hot iron bar.
“So tight,” he gasped as he finally seated himself all the way inside her.
“Were your parents psychic?” Emma asked, gulping a little at the sting of his invasion.
Max frowned down at her confused. “No, why?”
“Are you sure? I mean, with a name like Max Cannon—”
“Emma!”
“Sorry, but from the feel of things that can’t be a small caliber you’ve got shoved up there, boyo.”
Max leaned down, resting his forehead against hers as he started to laugh shakily. “I love you, Emma.”
“Oh boy,” she breathed as he slowly began to move.
“Is that all you can say?” He was grinning down at her knowingly, as if he had no doubts as to what her answer would be.
Emma felt all her old insecurities come to the fore, even as his cock had her gasping in pleasure. “Are you sure?”
He stopped, leaning down to kiss her thoroughly. “I’m sure.”
She stared into his face, reading the love there, the heat, the need. With deliberate slowness she raised her arms above her head and grasped the headboard. She lifted her head out and to the side in an instinctive show of submission, giving him her throat, accepting him fully. “Fuck me, Max.”
Max lost control for the first time in his adult life. His teeth bit into his mark as he began pounding into her body with little finesse. He fucked her into the mattress, and she loved every minute of it. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on for dear life as he once again sent her over the edge, her climax so strong she nearly passed out. The clenching of her body was enough to bring him off, his semen pouring into her in a tidal wave of wet heat. With a gasp that was almost a sob he collapsed on top of her, his breathing harsh and uneven, his heart pounding.
“I love you too,” she whispered, cuddling him close as he began to purr.