No Sweeter Madness: Chocolate Scene

“Chocolate tastes good on everything,” I declared, easing back into Max’s comfortable couch. The plate in my hand boasted a chocolate croissant Max had warmed in the microwave before drizzling it with chocolate syrup. Running my finger through the sticky sweetness, I scooped up a small mound of chocolate and popped it into my mouth.

With Audrey and Aaron both at school, and Max taking a rare morning off, I asked Bridge to cover my shift. It had been a crazy couple of weeks, and I needed a break.

Making my morning that much better, Max passed by The Beanery to grab our favorite croissants before picking me up at the school right after I dropped Audrey off.

We drove straight to his house. Chocolate, then sex. That was my plan. I eyed Max from beneath my lids. The poor man. He’d awakened an insatiable beast. I should at least let him eat first before I jump his bones.

Or his bone. Ha.

Sitting forward, his elbows on his spread knees, Max cocked an eyebrow. “You want to test that theory?”

I popped my finger out of my mouth. “Sure,” I chirped, carefully ripping off a piece of the flaky pastry. “What do you want to try it on?”

“I was thinking you but watching you lick the chocolate off your finger is giving me other ideas.”

My head whipped around so fast I nearly gave myself a concussion. “Other ideas?” I squeaked.

“Yes.” His eyes burned. “Other ideas.”

Holding his gaze, my cheeks burned as I dipped my finger back into the chocolate before sliding it between my lips.

I thrilled as his eyes narrowed on my face. “You’re playing with fire, baby girl.”

I hummed around my finger before dragging it through the circle of my mouth. “Mm, I hope so.”

Max’s mouth quirked as he casually took to his feet.

I smiled up at him.

He didn’t return my smile.

Having a mind to what was coming my way, I sucked in a breath, gave him my hand, and let him tug me up from the couch.

Dipping his chin, he met my eyes. “Go in my bedroom,” he paused, and his eyes lit up as he said, “our bedroom, and take off your clothes. Lie down on our bed,” his eyes twinkled, “wrap your hands around the spindles of the headboard and spread your legs. If I can’t see my pussy as soon as I walk in, I will not be happy.”

“Kay,” I breathed, my heart thudding in my chest.

We’d talked about me moving into his place but hadn’t determined exactly when that was going to happen. Listening to him talk it seemed he wanted it to be a lot sooner than I expected.

And I was 100% okay with that.

Standing to his full height, he looked down at me. “Go.”

A nervous giggle escaped my lips.

His mouth tipped up in reply making me laugh out loud.

“Go!” He laughed, pointing toward the bedroom.

Our bedroom!

I skittered off down the hall and yanked off my clothes. Gone was the modest, inhibited woman from our beginning.

Was I still shy? Yes.

Did I still flush like a virgin bride? Absolutely.

Would I let it stop me? Never.

Folding my clothes onto the corner of his wide dresser, I crawled across his bed, our bed, and got into position.

Looking down the length of my pale body, I noted my stretch marks and dimpled thighs, then dismissed both as I spread my legs.

Would he be able to see me like this?

Drawing my knees up, my feet flat on the bed, I let my thighs fall open. For good measure, I reached down and slid my fingers through my slit, ensuring he would get the full view.

The sound of his footsteps sent my hand back to the spindle as I watched the doorway, waiting for his large frame to fill it.

I smiled and inhaled pure joy at the sight of him.

His eyes widened as he came to a sudden stop, the bottle of syrup dangling from one hand, the other roughly rubbing across his jaw. “Fuck me, Tweet.”

“That’s the idea,” I murmured.

Dipping his head down and shaking his head, he stalked toward me. “Don’t move.”

He set the bottle down on the bed beside me then reached behind his head and yanked his T-shirt over his head to reveal all that glorious skin, thick muscles, and hairy chest.

“Mm,” I hummed. “You’re beautiful, Max.”

His eyes softened momentarily before sharpening on my face. “Don’t try to soften me up, Tweet. You’re getting what you asked for.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I teased.

Pushing his thumbs into the waistband of his trackpants, he slid them down and off along with his boxers and socks.

“You don’t look soft, Max.” I blinked at him innocently.

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, that mouth needs to be put to better use.”

I quivered, fairly wiggled, with anticipation. “I could say the same to you. You’re doing an awful lot of talking and not a lot of doing.”

Where was all this coming from? Who even was I?

Max’s eyebrows flew up, his face lighting with interest and amusement even as he shook his head.

Climbing up onto the bed, he knelt between my thighs, laced his fingers through mine, and pressed the backs of my hands into the mattress before dropping his weight and dragging his cock across my pussy.

“Max,” I moaned.

“Too much talking, you said?” Nibbling down the edge of my jaw, he tucked his face into my neck and licked along the line of my shoulder as he rolled his delicious hips. “How about I don’t say another word?”

“But I like it when you talk dirty,” I protested softly.

“Yeah?” His lips trailed down over my collarbone. “What do you like? Tell me what you want from me.”

“I can’t,” I huffed even as I arched my back to ensure my chest met his mouth.

“Can and will,” he pulled back. “Tell me what you want.”

If there was one thing I’d learned in the past few weeks it was the faster I complied the faster he gave me what I wanted. “Pull my hair and tell me I’m pretty,” I whispered.

The lines at the corners of his eyes deepened as his mouth split into a wide smile. Dipping down, he circled my nose with the tip of his. “We’ll work on it,” he murmured.

I rolled my eyes and laughed at myself.

Releasing one of my hands, he cupped my face. Dark, serious eyes stared into mine. “You are pretty, Wren, so very pretty. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You’ve always been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

My heart melted. “Max.”

“Now,” his hand slid down to lightly circle my throat as his lips brushed mine, “less talking, just like you asked.”

With his mouth tilted over mine, I felt his smile before he extinguished it with one lash of his tongue inside my mouth.

I opened to him, allowing him entry, and tilted my pelvis to feel more of him. There was nothing better than the heat, heft, and strength of his long body stretched out over mine. Wrapping my legs around his lean hips, I held him close as I tangled my tongue with his.

There was no intimacy greater than that of a kiss.

I reveled in it.

In him.

In us.

Pushing back onto his haunches, he reached for the chocolate syrup and spilled a thin, cold, drizzle around my areolas. I gasped but his eager tongue chased the chill away.

Moving down my body, he parted my lips and covered me with more chocolate before diving in with his mouth.

My hands flew to his head as my entire body went rigid. The difference was astounding. His lips, teeth, and tongue devoured the chocolate off my clit, rolling it between his lips, surrounding it, sucking it gently into his mouth before lashing at me with the flat of his tongue.

I’d never come to orgasm so quickly but just as the first tremor hit, he drew back.

“Max,” I gasped, my fingers curling into his hair in an attempt to forestall him.

His voice guttural, he demanded, “Your turn, Wren.” Kneeling on the bed, he guided me forward and placed me on my hands and knees in front of him. Tangling his fingers in my hair, he yanked me forward onto his cock with no warning.

I fisted the sheets in my hands as my pussy clenched at the rough demand. Eyes rolling back in my head, my body left wanting, I took him to the back of my throat over and over until his thighs began to quake.

His gentle tugs on my hair did nothing to sway me from my goal of swallowing him down.

He grunted, his hips thrusting forward even as his hands scrabbled frantically in my hair.

I heard the sharp smack on my ass before I felt it, the shock of it earning his release.

With a firm hold on my hair, he pulled me up and slammed his mouth over mine. Grasping onto his shoulders, I walked forward on my knees until my breasts pressed against his chest.

Both of his hands scooped up my ass and yanked me close, his erection throbbing against my stomach as he fucked me with his tongue, teasing me with the faintest taste of chocolate.

I ran my hands down over his biceps, ready to urge him to cover me and finish what he started when he backed off the bed, tugging me with him into the bathroom.

Reaching in quickly, he turned on the shower before turning back to me.

I rubbed my thighs together, looking for relief that was nowhere near enough to finish me.

“Max,” I whined.

Stalking to me, he tipped my chin up with his finger. “I thought you wanted less talk, Wren?”

“I want more action,” I declared. “I want you to finish me.”

Leaning down he slid his scruffy cheek against mine. “I’ll finish you, don’t worry about that.”

I turned my face toward him, seeking his mouth, but he slipped away once more. With his hand at my back, he guided me into the shower.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared to wait until we washed off the sticky residue of the chocolate.

Instead, Max stepped in behind me, wrapped his hands around my hips, and prodded me under the hot spray of the shower.

With my back against his wide chest, his large hands cupped my breasts and offered them to the water, working in languorous circles to clean them.

My head fell back as my sensitive nipples begged for more.

Reaching down between my legs, my throbbing pussy received the same treatment, a treatment that stopped abruptly the moment I rocked against his talented fingers.

I groaned low in my throat.

Suddenly, he spun me around to face the other side of the shower.

With his fist in the back of my hair, he pulled my head back and harshly slammed his lips against mine before gently but firmly pushing me forward until my breasts, my palms, and the side of my face pressed against the tile.

“Max,” I gasped at the cold and jerked back.

His hold on my hair tightened as his other hand cracked against my ass.

I yelped, my eyes widening. This communication style was primitive. Exciting, but primitive.

I liked it.

I wiggled my ass back in invitation, but he only tightened his grip on my hair and smacked it again.

Nodding, I gave in and relaxed against the tile.

Immediately, he released my hair and trailed his fingers down the length of my spine to dip into the cleft of my ass before nudging the inside of my ankles with his foot to widen my stance.

As soon as I complied, his other hand circled around to cup my sex.

I closed my eyes and moaned, giving into the sweet sensation as his fingers got to work. There was too much at once and not nearly enough. If I tilted my pelvis forward, he lightened his touch. If I tilted my hips back, he withdrew his hand.

I stilled, and he immediately rewarded me, the heat of his chest covering my back as he teased and caressed.

My neck arched back, and he withdrew entirely, his heat a mere memory.

I cried out at the loss and threw myself back into position.

Five seconds passed, then ten. I began to pant, my body begging for his but unwilling to move and risk further punishment.

Fifteen seconds.

Twenty.

Twenty-five.

My muscles unwound.

I melded against the wall.

His mouth hit the juncture between my neck and shoulder, then dragged his teeth up and down the side of my neck and along me shoulder before his fingers slowly returned to seek out my most secret places.

The water slashed down all around us.

With two fingers circling my clit, his other hand moved to my hip to hold me steady.

My lips parted; toes curled.

I held my breath as his cock slid between my thighs, the tip just barely breaching my center.

“Max,” I breathed, my fingers white against the tile. “Please.”

His hot breath hit my ear. “No more smart mouth?”

I shook my head vehemently.

Placing a tender kiss under my ear, he murmured, “Pity. I quite liked punishing it.”

“I’ll be bad,” I rushed to rectify my mistake.

“I’ve no doubt,” he chuckled darkly. “But for now,” he pressed inexorably forward, filling me.”

My eyes fluttered shut, my brain shut off, my body opened, and I breathed deep as my mind chanted his name over and over with every deep, slow, thrust inside me.

This man.

This man filled me in every way possible.

Gave me his body.

Gave me himself.

Carried my burdens.

Took away my pain.

My body tightened around him as I breathed his name aloud.

“With me, baby girl,” he whispered harshly in my ear. “Come with me.”

Reaching around my hip, his long fingers strummed my clit just once, combusting the flame inside me and sending me flying even as his body bowed over mine.

“Max. Always, always, Max.”

Strong arms wrapping around my ribs, scruffy chin tucked into my neck, he pulled me away from the wall to rest against his chest.

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you, Max.”

“Enough to move in with me?”

I smiled and twisted my neck to look up at him. “I’m ready.”

 

The End.

 

I hope you never look at a chocolate croissant the same again.

Devin.

xo