Mr.Right

Chapter 28.

Maverick wasn't kidding when he said he'd fling me over his shoulders to his room.

I yelp when he hoists me up his shoulder and walk up the stairs to his room, slamming the door shut

firmly as I pull his mouth down to mine and ravage it, pouring myself into the kiss, giving him everything

I'd had to hold back for the past days. For the entire life I'd been forced to live before meeting him.

Maverick isn't one to let opportunity knock and then leave unannounced. Even as my demanding kiss

rocks him back on his heels, he sweeps me up in his arms and carries me to his king sized bed. On the

way, I outstretch my arms to turn of the lights from the switch on the wall. He chuckles at my

consideration but sobers again when he lowers me to the bed.

Resting against his chest, I close my eyes as he slowly undoes the buttons on the back of my

nightdress I had changed into after the party. I slide my hand up his chest and tug gently at his shirt. He

murmurs a protest so I desist, content that he wants nothing more from me at this moment than to

allow him care for me.

When he finishes with the buttons and the gown slips from my shoulders halfway, he kisses me. First

my lips, then my cheeks, my ear, my neck...

The heat of his mouth combined with the warmth of the fire in my skin. Languid pleasure steals through

me, slowly building on the passion of moments before.

When he strokes my gown down my shoulders, I arch my throat and let my head fall back in complete

surrender. All rational thoughts flees at the feel of his warm lips and hands as my first layer gown

completely slips away.

All that is left is the way his hands spread out over mine, pressing them to the bed on either side of my

head. All I know is the way he never forces, never takes more than what he is given, how he waits for

me every time.

He's patient, willing to stretch each moment into forever— coaxing, teasing, never demanding.

Held but not bound, I give a cry to the heat welling inside me. Maverick covers my mouth with his,

taking my wordless cries, answering them with his hungry moans.

He tugs at the neckline of my inner gown, wondering why I had to have two nightdresses on. I wriggle

free of my gown and drag it down for him. Maverick dives upon me like a hawk. A dark moan rips from

his throat at the taste of me, the feel of my nipple hardening in his mouth. My hands tightens in his hair,

pulling, painful, but it only fans the flames of burning I want. He moves over me, pressing his rock hard

member, still trapped within his trousers, into my damp and vulnerable center.

The darkness closes upon us, keeping our secret with the only faint glow from the moonlight seeping

from the curtains to guide seeking hands and lips and tongues. Suddenly, I could not bear to be parted

from him, even by the distance of mere fabric between us.

As if reading my mind, Maverick rises from me and rips off his shirt over his head, flinging it into the

darkest corners of the room. With a strangled groan, he yanks his trousers off and slides down my

body, tasting me all over, from my lips to the dips of my navel to the folds of my center and on down,

rolling his tongue past the sensitive spot behind my knee, kissing the delicate bone of my ankle.

I stretch out before him, one wrist carelessly tossed over my eyes and the other hand lay on my ribs

just below the full rounded mound of my breast. Moving forward on his knees, he presses mine apart,

coming between them. He dips and circles, tasting and nibbling and gathering my nectar on his tongue.

I begin to quiver before him as my thighs tightens in pleasure, he presses them wide again, gently

dominating the moment of my orgasm.

I forget my shyness, forget my myself, and there's only his hot tongue and warm fingers and the

shimmering, aching pleasure that arches my back and makes my breath short. I writhe before him,

hearing my own gasping cries from a great distance.

At the last moment just when I think my pleasure could go no higher, he thrusts a single long finger

deep into me. Startled, I reach for him, digging my hands into his thick, soft hair as I throw my head

back and gasp out his name.

Then it finds me— that sweeping tide of exquisite pleasure that never ceases to amaze me. Tossed

high like a bit of driftwood on the wild seas, I fall down, down, swirling, gasping, rolling hopelessly by

the waves as my body shudders around the last, potent plunge of his finger deep within me.

Maverick's upon me again, as if his control nears to breaking. He groans as he covers my limp,

perspiring body with his hot, urgent one. "Open for me," He gasps.

Still breathless, I slide one hand down to guide him in. He feels so large and hot in my hands. Laughing

at my own clumsiness, I wrap my fingers around him, squeezing him experimentally as he shudders.

"April..."

He doesn't beg, not quite, but power rushes through me nonetheless. I, who so recently had been

helpless in his hands now held the reins.

I move my hand so that the blunt head of him slid between the slippery lips of me. I hold him there,

making him ride my slit, up and down yet entering no further. The wicked pleasure of it, of stimulating

myself with his aching flesh almost makes me lose my train of thoughts...

I release him then, keeping my other hand in his hair and sliding my knees up to his hips. Still, he

hesitates.

Then he plunges. I cry out as his thick member nearly splits me in two. The sharp instant pain

disappears, leaving me at the mercy of him. He wraps me tightly in his arms and takes me hard,

thrusting deep and fast, withdrawing slowly, making me ache, then thrusting again. He wraps one fist in

my hair and pulls my hair back to reveal my neck to his hot seeking mouth.

I ride the storm, winding my arms about his back, clinging my legs as he impales me again and again,

gasping, sweating, moaning my name into my neck.

I could not resist the tide when it comes again, this time as violent as the hurricane sea. His thick

member invades me, spreading me, pounding deep until I ache from it. The pleasure

ain of his unrestrained ravishment, the wildness of him, his unmasked passion, the thrill of knowing it's

me he wants—

I orgasm again, my body tightening helplessly about him as I ride him, storm tossed and half thrilled,

half alarmed, and entirely, completely with this new raw Maverick.

He takes my mouth in his when I come, breathing in my cries as I throb around him, shuddering in his

arms. He groans, a deep, hoarse sound as he plunges one last time deep within, spilling into me as he

holds me tightly.

We just lay there, locked together, shaking and slick with juices from each other, gasping in unison.

"I think the bed broke," I finally break the silence as my heart pounds so loudly in my chest that I can © 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

hardly hear my own harsh breathing.

"That's a good sign," he pulls me to his arms and kisses my bare shoulders "That it was good, and you

probably wouldn't be able to walk proper in the morning."

"It's your bed, stupid. Where would you sleep?"

"There's always your room... That's if we don't break your bed too," He says and my face flushes at his

revelation. This kinky motherfucker.

He picks me up from the bed and lowers me to the ground, finding a spot beside me. "Again?"

I let out a whimper as he takes that as a yes, making me yell his name over, and over again into the

night.