I nodded and leaned in to suck on his bottom lip. “Of what you look like while you lick my . . . pussy.”
Max groaned and let his head fall back against the door. “You have no idea what it does to hear you talk like that.” I wondered if maybe this would help. If what Chloe had said was true, maybe it would be easier for him to let go if I used him first.
I trailed a hand over his navel and down to where he was hard and straining against the material of his pants. I gripped the shape of him, rubbing my thumb where I felt the head of his cock. “Oh, I think I have an idea of what it does to you.”
Max began walking us backward, stopping just at the side of the bed. He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed it into my hand. “Let’s pray that this stays quiet, and that it’s because Will has found his maternal instinct, and not because our child has suddenly learned that everyone will do precisely what she wants, and has enslaved them both.”
I laughed, and set it on the bedside table.
“So what will you do with those pictures, sweet Petal?” he said, opening the buttons on my shirt one by one, and letting it slip from my shoulders.
“When? At work?” he asked, and unfastened my bra, pulling the straps down my arms, and absently tossing it into a chair against the wall. “Maybe you’ll be in a meeting, everyone talking around you while you look down at your phone. They’ll think you’re looking at your calendar, maybe reading through an email. They’d never guess you’re looking at photos of me with my face between your legs. Of your clit pressed against my tongue.”
“Oh God,” I said, his words mirroring exactly what I imagined doing. Max’s eyes moved over my face, down my neck and lower. My breasts tingled, my nipples hardening with the weight of his gaze on me. My skin felt too hot, the rest of my clothes constricting.
“Would that get you wet, Petal?”
I nodded, stripping Max of his shirt first, and then his pants, finding the head of his cock visible just above the waistband of his boxers. He was so hard, the tip already wet in the setting sunlight. I licked my lips, almost able to feel the weight of him in my mouth, hard and smooth against my tongue.
“Take the rest off,” Max instructed, before he reached for the bedding, pulling it down the mattress to reveal crisp, white sheets. The pile of carefully stacked pillows fell to the side and he reached for one, setting it in the middle of the bed.
I slipped out of my skirt and panties just in time for him to turn back to me and nod his approval. “Right here,” he said then, motioning to the pillow. “Want that pretty little cunt up where I can get to it.”
Even now, after the club and marriage and a baby and all we’d done together, I felt my cheeks heat as I did what he asked and climbed on the bed, careful to keep the pillow directly under my hips. It propped me up and I felt open and exposed, my thighs spread and the air cool against my skin. I knew that if I touched myself I’d be slick and swollen, my clit sensitive to even the smallest touch.
I kept my eyes trained on him as he stepped out of his boxers and climbed up on the bed, on his slow advance toward me. I reached out for him, wanting to feel him inside me and—
His phone vibrated on the table. Fuck.
I reached for it blindly, unable to look away from him and his perfect cock, the way it jutted out between us. I knocked over the alarm clock and what I assumed to be the room service menu, before I finally found what I was looking for, and held it out to him.
“Sara,” Max said, and I had to tear my attention away from his body.
“The phone? You read it, yeah?” he said, and placed a hand on my knee, letting his palm smooth down my skin until it rested between my legs. “I’m a bit busy here, and unless the apartment is on fire or there’s something wrong with our baby, I don’t want to see a text from anyone right now. Just reply.”
“Reply while you . . . ?” I trailed off, and he nodded.
My throat felt dry and I had to focus on what I was doing, rather than the way Max ground the heel of his hand against my clit.
“It’s Will,” I said, blinking down to the message. It was a close-up of Anna’s face, her nose scrunched up, and her lower lip turned down into a pout. The edge of a yellow polka-dot blanket curled up near her cheek, so I assumed she was still in her crib, asleep.
What is this face? the text said.
Has she been crying? I asked, momentarily distracted from Max’s fingers slipping over me.
No. Just noises. Like a puppy or something? She’s ok, was just curious.
Sometimes she fusses a little while she sleeps, I typed, and had to stop and regroup when I felt Max’s fingers replaced by puffs of warm breath. She usually settles herself back down! I think you’re good!
That might have been a bit more enthusiastic than the situation warranted.
I waited, but when it didn’t look like Will was going to respond again, I dropped the phone to the bed and groaned, throwing my head back. “Oh my God,” I said, tucking my hands into Max’s hair.
“Yeah?” he murmured, and licked along me in long, slow strokes.
“Taste so fucking good, Petal,” he said, circling his tongue around my clit and murmuring the words right against me.
I opened my legs wider and held him there, rocking my hips up to meet his mouth until I was practically fucking his face. “More, Max,” I said, looking down at him. “And fingers?”