The Darkest Embrace Read Online Free PDF Page A

nipples puckered even tighter. She was so wet for him he could easily slip a second finger inside her, his thumb still pressing her clit as he moved his hand. Her pussy clutched at his fingers, and she gasped, her hand gripping his wrist to slow him.
    “Wait,” she said with a laugh, not opening her eyes, her voice thick with arousal.
    His own command, thrown back at him. Max waited. Her body pulsed around him. He wanted to be inside her so much that it took everything he had not to dive in. When she tipped her hips the tiniest bit, encouraging him, he moved his fingers again. She went tight around him, her pussy gripping, her clit jumping. Fuck, it made his cock jump, too. Her hoarse cry echoed around the loft. She covered her mouth as though she meant to hold it back.
    “I want to hear you,” Max said, surprised he could find his own voice.
    “Oh, God. Max.” She moaned. Then, louder. “Oh, yes.”
    He couldn’t hold off any longer—he had to taste her. Max slid down the bed to center his mouth on her clit. He lapped at her sweetness, suckling gently while still moving in and out of her with his fingers. Shit, he wanted his cock inside her, but he had to make her come first. Had to make her lose her mind for him.
    When she came, her taste flooded him. Her pussy clamped against him in slow rolling flutters that sent echoing shocks all through his dick. Pain in his scalp flared, just a little, and he realized she was pulling his hair to get him to move upward. He wasn’t going to resist, not any longer. Max moved up Jessie’s body to capture her mouth. She opened for him. Her fingers dug into his ass as he moved between her legs, guiding himself into her slick heat.
    He wanted to make love to her for hours, but there was no way he was going to last that long. He was already shaking from how good it felt to be inside her, balls deep. At the scratch of her nails down his back, Max let out a low yell. Pleasure swept him. He was the one losing himself. He lost himself in her and didn’t even care.
    * * *
    A few minutes later, Jessie kissed his shoulder, prompting him to roll to the side. “How’s your hand, honey?”
    Truthfully, he’d forgotten all about it. It stung a little when he poked at the bandages, but it wasn’t bad at all. “You fixed it right up. It’s okay.”
    She took a peek under the bandages, then kissed him again. “You must heal fast. God, breakfast smells amazing. I didn’t even hear you get up.”
    “I didn’t get up.” Max looked at her. “I thought you made breakfast....”
    Both of them were up and out of the bed, snatching up clothes, shoving legs into jeans and arms into shirts, in thirty seconds. At the top of the stairs, Max motioned for her to stand behind him. He listened, craning his neck to hear any movement from downstairs. At the clink of silverware on porcelain, he took one step down the stairs with Jessie close on his heels.
    “You stay here.”
    Both her brows went up. “And let the serial killer get you? Um, no.”
    “I doubt a serial killer would be making us breakfast.” Something like that would be reserved for crazy ex-girlfriends, he thought grimly, remembering the time Patty had let herself into his apartment and cooked him dinner, then thrown a pan of hot pasta at his face when he told her she needed to leave.
    But downstairs, all they found was a breakfast table set with two plates, a pot of coffee perking merrily on the counter and eggs and bacon in a covered pan on the stove. Jessie looked at it, then him.
    “Is this a bed and breakfast maybe?”
    “It’s not supposed to be.” If anything, he’d picked this place because it was out of the way and they’d have plenty of time to be totally alone. “But it smells good.”
    Jessie went to the window to look out. She twitched the red checker curtain to one side and smiled bemusedly. “Someone’s in the backyard. A woman.”
    Swiftly, Max crossed to the window and yanked at the curtain, a sour taste in