Pleasure To The Max!. Cami Dalton

an unholy claim on his stomach, seemingly content to hang out indefinitely and drive him right from his skin. She rubbed the bands of muscles, appearing particularly thrilled with the diagonal obliques that pointed toward his groin. Up and down, over and back, she stroked and caressed until his eyes all but rolled back in his head. As she played there for the foreseeable future, causing the tissue beneath his skin to contract and jerk, he gave the towel a small pull and it dropped to her waist.

      He let her nipple slip from his mouth with a soft thwip. He looked down at her breasts. The moon’s unusually bright glow spilled over the high, firm globes. Ridiculously lush and plump, they were almost too big for her frame, her rib cage small in comparison. His hands trembled and he somehow managed to choke out a curse. “I swear you have the most beautiful tits I’ve ever seen. I could look at them forever and never get tired.”

      Max winced, unable to believe he’d said that out loud. He’d sounded about sixteen, except more crass. But he wasn’t going to lie. Her body plain floored him, in the best possible way.

      She stilled, though her breath started soughing a mile a minute. “Do you really mean that?”

      He gave a rueful laugh. “Uh, yeah. Every word.” Lord, he was such an ass.

      Though, bizarrely, she appeared to be more thrilled than if he’d spouted the most romantic of love poems. Damn. She just kept getting more and more perfect. But why? Why would such a beautiful, beyond sexy woman act surprised? She had to have heard the sentiment from every man who’d ever been lucky enough to see her.

      However, he wasn’t exactly in the frame of mind to ponder mysteries and was immediately distracted by the most effective diversionary tactic he’d ever witnessed. She cupped her breasts and lifted them in her palms. They didn’t need the support, since the plump pair were a gravity-defying miracle all on their own, but this was the equivalent of offering them up to him on a platter. Permission and invitation to take his pleasure from her body.

      “Don’t you still want me?”

      A low buzz started in his muscles, vibrating down to the bone. His nostrils flared. “Uh-huh. But in one more second I won’t be able to stop. I’ve never wanted a woman so much. It’s like I have to have you and if I don’t…” he shook his head “—well, that would be bad…really, really bad….”

      This time, after he spoke, she all but beamed up at him. It was unfathomable to him that she had doubts about her desirability since mere moments in her presence had him acting completely out of character. Max was a seducer, not a taker. And if she didn’t let him take her soon, he had no doubt that he would add beggar and pleader to his new set of skills.

      It certainly wasn’t the voice of a slick player that rasped, “So, um, we’re cool, right? I mean, we’re feeling the same vibe?”