Taming Lily Page 9

  I try them all, but not a one of them works.

  Damn it.

  Carefully closing the laptop, I shove my phone back into my pocket before I slide the laptop back into its hiding place in the closet, making sure I disturb nothing. If Pilar knew I was putting the laptop back where I found it, she’d come unglued. Hell, I wouldn’t blame her.

  I should grab it and leave. Fuck Lily Fowler. Fuck the shit I left in my hotel room. It’s a few changes of clothes and toiletries, nothing else. I could leave it all behind and not miss it. Deliver the laptop to my client and be done with the job. Hands clean. Money earned.

  But my hands wouldn’t be clean and neither would my conscience. I had sex with her last night. My subject. Lily. I kissed her, fucked her, slept with her, her body nestled close to mine, like we were lovers. The very last thing I should have done, yet I did it anyway like a complete asshole.

  I’m in too deep and I need to find my way out. I can’t let her suck me in any deeper, despite how much I want to be sucked in. I like the woman. I enjoy spending time with her. Every time our eyes meet, it’s like a current of electricity runs through my veins. And when she touches me, kisses me … damn.

  I’m done for.

  But I can’t let any of that affect me. I need to re-strategize. Come up with a new plan, one that allows me to spend more time with Lily.

  You’re a fucking idiot.

  Fine, I am. An idiot who wants at least one more night on this island with Lily.

  I’ll earn Lily’s trust. Hell, I’m probably more than halfway there already. I’ll discover the things and the people that mean something to her, try to figure out exactly what went wrong between her and Pilar. And then I’ll get into that laptop and find out exactly what Pilar is looking for.

  chapter eleven

  Lily

  MY EYELIDS ARE HEAVY and I don’t want to open them. Plus the room is bright with the rising sun—I can see the glow even behind my closed eyes, and I know the second I open them I’ll want to hiss and groan like a vampire.

  More than anything, I’m reluctant for this night—morning, whatever—with Max to end. What if he utters a casual, “It’s been real,” and then bails on me? I don’t think my mind—or my heart—could take it. I know what happened between us can be nothing but casual. I get it.

  So why am I feeling like this? Like I don’t want him to go? Like I want to spend the rest of my vacation with him, exploring the island, going out for dinner, splashing in the pool or better yet, in the ocean, and then letting him take me to new heights of pleasure every night?

  Because you always want what you can’t have.

  Isn’t that the truth?

  My body aches in the best possible way and I stretch my legs out, wincing at the dull pain I feel between my thighs. Not an agonizing pain, no. More like a you’ve been well used and you’d like more of it right now, please type of pain.

  “You okay, princess?” A large, warm hand slides down my back just before I feel Max press a soft, lingering kiss to my bare shoulder.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, both loving and hating how tenderly he treats me. I’m confused. I don’t know what I want from him. Worse, I don’t know what he wants from me.

  He slides into the bed, pressing his hard, hot body flush against mine from behind. His arm comes around my waist, his hand resting almost possessively on my stomach, and I sigh contentedly, enjoying how good he feels pressed next to me.

  “I should go soon,” Max murmurs just before he drops a kiss on my neck, behind my ear.

  I want to scream out, No! Don’t leave me! But I contain myself. “Got some things to do?”

  “No, not really.” His mouth is at my ear, his warm breath making me shiver. “I should go back and take a shower. Get some fresh clothes on.”

  “Oh.” I rest my hand lightly over his, curling my fingers so I can draw patterns on top of his hand. “I should take a shower, too.”

  “You smell delicious.” He squeezes me tight, his face in my hair.

  “I’d rather not leave this bed.” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

  “Aren’t you hungry?”

  Starved, but I’m hungrier for him. “I’m all right.”

  “We need condoms.”

  Oh. That we do. “Valid point.”

  “I could go back to my room, take a shower, get dressed, and pick up a box at the gift shop in the lobby,” he suggests. “And then we could meet in a few hours and go do something. Together.”

  “Like what?” I smooth my thumb over the top of his hand, my entire body going tense in anticipation when he slides that hand down lower, over the slope of my belly.

  “Let me surprise you,” he says, his fingers tangling through my scant pubic hair so that he ends up cupping me between my legs.

  My hand falling away from his, I spread my thighs open, allowing him entry, whimpering when his fingers sink into my damp folds. His touch is slow. Assured. Confident. Back and forth he strokes me, teasing my clit, thrusting one finger shallowly inside my body before removing it. Toying with me, driving me wild, making me shiver and shake in anticipation.

  “I love how wet you always are for me,” he whispers close to my ear, the slick sounds of his fingers in my pussy loud in the otherwise quiet of the room. “And I love how easily you respond to me.”

  I’m already mindless with wanting him. I can’t speak, I can hardly think at his touch and I lean back against him, my head on his shoulder, my limbs weak. I close my eyes and focus on his sure fingers working me toward orgasm.

  “You want to come, baby girl?” he asks and I nod, a moan escaping me when he pinches my clit. “Say it.”

  “I want to come,” I whisper as I tilt my hips up, looking for his fingers to touch me in a particular way.

  He stills those magical fingers between my legs. “Beg for it.”

  The man is mean, in the absolute sexiest way possible. “Please let me come. Please. I need it.”

  “You need what?”

  “To come.” He flicks my clit, a teasing glance that makes me clamp my thighs around his hand to keep him there.

  “Who can do that for you, baby?”

  “You.” Yes, him. The sensitive skin between my legs tingles with anticipation and I feel like I’m drowning in desire.

  He bites my earlobe, emitting a low growl that sends a shiver through me. “Say my name.”

  “Please, Max. Make me come.”

  “You want to come in my mouth or on my fingers?”

  My legs go so weak at his words, at the images they conjure, I swear they feel like jelly. Thank God I’m not standing or I’d drop to the floor. “I …”

  He removes his hand from my pussy, making me moan at the loss. “Tell me what you want, Lily.”

  “I want your mouth.”

  “Hmm, let’s do this, baby.” He swivels me around, yanking me on top of him so we’re in a sixty-nine position. My feet are on either side of his head, my knees at his shoulders, my backside in his face. I brace my hands on the mattress, his hips between my arms, his majestic cock thick and ready in front of my mouth. Just as I feel his skilled mouth land on my pussy I draw his cock between my lips, sucking the head of him, the salty essence of his pre-come coating my tongue.

  He moans against me, his low voice sending a ripple of sensation across my sensitive skin. I pull him deeper into my mouth, licking him slowly with my tongue as he licks at me. His fingers come into the mix, teasing my entry as his tongue circles my clit and I lift up away from his cock, lost to the feeling of his mouth on my pussy, taking me higher and higher …

  “That’s it, baby, grind on my face,” he encourages me and oh God, I do. Shamelessly. I can feel his stubble-covered chin brush against my folds and it drives me wild. His tongue slides all over my skin, like he wants to taste every inch of me. His fingers … oh my God, his fingers are moving up, pressing against my ass, teasing me there, sending me straight over the brink …

  I’m climaxing on a g
asp, his name falling from my lips as I come all over his face, just like he demanded I do. His hands reach up to grip my hips, steadying me as I grind and shudder all over his lips and tongue. He doesn’t stop licking me, touching me, his fingers playing with an area I’ve never really allowed anyone to touch before. The sensation of his finger pressing at my ass, his lips wrapped tightly around my clit, has me coming again. To the point where the moment the shudders leave me, I’m trying my best to get away from him, my skin is so sensitive.

  “Stop, please. I can’t take it anymore,” I tell him on an agonized moan, and he releases his hold on me so I can climb away from him and fall at his side. I press against him, my arm going across his stomach, my fingers resting close to his still hard cock. “I failed you.”

  He starts to laugh, sounding rusty. Makes me wonder if he doesn’t laugh much. “How?”

  “I didn’t finish you off.” I trace my finger around the head of his cock and it twitches beneath my touch. “And you definitely finished me off. Twice.”

  Max kisses my forehead, his hand going to my breast, fingers playing with my nipple. “We still have time. I don’t have to leave just yet.”

  I slide between his legs, lying on my stomach, his cock poised and ready at my lips. “Then let me help you with this.” I grip the base of him and lift up, slipping my lips around his thick cock and sucking him deep.

  So deep, I feel him touch the back of my throat and I swallow, trying to relax the muscles there. He’s big. He tastes salty, his musky scent filling my nostrils, swimming in my head. My pussy clenches, as if I didn’t just come twice already, and I can’t believe how sucking him, touching him, is getting me off, too.

  “You taste so good,” I murmur after I withdraw him from my mouth. I smile, run my tongue up and down the length of him, putting on a show, knowing how much guys love to watch.

  And Max is just like any other guy. They can’t help it; it’s in their DNA. He reaches forward and sweeps my hair away from my face, holding it in his fist as he studies me intently. My gaze never leaves his as I lave attention onto the head of his cock, my fingers gripping his base as I lick him up and down.

  “Suck it harder, princess,” he grits out and I do as he asks, my cheeks hollowing when I suck him deeper. Harder. “That’s it. Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.”

  Pleasure ripples through me at his compliments. I brush his thigh with my hand, feel the muscles jump beneath my touch, and I remove his cock from my mouth with a smile. “I like touching you.”

  “Keep sucking, baby,” he orders, and I flash him a wicked smirk before I rear up and drop little kisses all over his flat belly. The muscles quiver beneath my lips, his cock twitches against my chest, and he releases his hold on my hair so that it falls all around me, tickling his skin.

  “Fuck,” he grits out when I lick and nip his skin, teasing him. “You’re making me crazy.”

  “Just returning the favor,” I murmur, my tongue searching the path of dark hair that stretches from below his navel to his cock. “You made me feel like I was losing my mind only a few minutes ago.”

  “You liked it,” he mutters, and I laugh because he’s right. I loved it.

  “You like this, too,” I whisper, brushing the hair out of my face so I can see him. He’s watching me, his gaze intense, his mouth drawn in a thin line and sweat forming on his forehead. He looks like he’s doing everything possible not to fall completely apart and I love that, too. It’s a heady feeling, knowing I have so much power over him.

  That I’m capable of giving him so much pleasure.

  “Don’t stop,” he urges and I return my attention to his cock, bobbing up and down on him, moaning when he sinks his fingers into my hair and guides me, thrusting deeper, fucking my mouth. He’s uttering an endless string of harsh curses, using me for his satisfaction, mindless with it, and I let him, murmuring around his cock, gripping him tight, sucking him deep.

  “Gonna come,” he rasps as a warning but I don’t move away from him. More like I sink him deeper into my mouth, and the first spurt of semen on my tongue makes me moan in tandem with his bone-rattling groan. I pull away from him slightly so he doesn’t flood the back of my throat, but I don’t waste a drop, either. Men love this sort of thing and normally I don’t swallow.

  But there’s something about this man that makes me want to do … anything for him. Give him as much pleasure as I possibly can. Do whatever he wants me to do.

  Let him do with me whatever he wants, too …

  “OKAY, I REALLY SHOULD GO NOW,” Max says hours later as he sits up in bed, swinging his legs so he’s seated on the side of the mattress, his feet planted firmly on the floor. He runs a hand through his hair, then turns to look at me.

  I’m lying on my side, completely uncovered and not really caring. I’m comfortable in my nudity, I always have been, and this intimidating, delicious, sexy man is not going to get to me, no matter how intently he stares.

  Besides, I like the way he stares. And kisses and touches and licks and sucks …

  “Why?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything more. Though I already know the answer. He gave me a long list of things he needed to do hours ago. Before he proceeded to attack my pussy first with his fingers, then his mouth. It’s all we’ve been doing, getting each other off with lips and fingers and tongues. No condoms mean we have to get creative.

  And I’ve discovered that Max is extremely creative.

  “I still need to take that shower. Get some fresh clothes on. Find a giant box of condoms.” He grins ruefully, and the sight of it sends a zing of pleasure straight between my legs. “Trust me, princess. It’s hard for me to leave with you looking like that. You’re too damn tempting.”

  “Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?” I’m confused, which is dumb. And I’m also feeling a little unsure. This isn’t my usual thing, making small talk and plans to see a guy again after a sex marathon.

  Stretching out my legs, I sigh, my muscles aching deliciously. I feel gently abused since he just finished bringing me to orgasm for the third time since I woke up. I swear my body is still trembling from the force of that last climax.

  I honestly don’t think I’ve come so many times before in my life.

  “It’s definitely a compliment.” He reaches out and runs his fingers down the side of my thigh, making me shiver. His hand drops and he gets up, reaching for his clothes where he left them on the floor and offering me a very fine view of his very fine ass. “I gotta get out of here. I won’t be able to resist you like this,” he says.

  I raise a brow. “Like what?”

  “Naked and sexy as fuck.” He turns and faces me with a grin, and dodges when I toss a pillow at him.

  I settle back against the remaining pillows, pulling the sheet up over me as he gets dressed. The late morning sun is blazing through my bedroom window and I glance at the clock on the bedside table, shuddering when I realize just how late it is. We’ve fucked the morning away completely.

  Not that I regret it.

  “You covered up,” he says, sounding disappointed.

  “I’m a distraction, remember?” Sitting up, I plump the pillows and lie back down, a yawn taking over me so fast I don’t quite cover it up with my hand.

  “And you’re a sleepy distraction.” He’s fully dressed as he comes back toward the bed and dips over me, dropping a kiss on top of my head. “See you around, princess.”

  “Wait a minute.” I grab hold of his hand before he can escape. “Are we still meeting later?”

  He raises a brow. “You still want to? Or are you having second thoughts?”

  Is he projecting? Maybe he’s the one having second thoughts. “I want to,” I admit softly, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. Honest admissions aren’t easy for me. They make me uncomfortable, like I’m putting myself on the line. Making myself vulnerable.

  He smiles, and the sight of it steals my breath. It’s not cocky or full of amusement. It’s tender. Rea
l. “Good. I still want to, too.” He gives me another kiss, this time on the lips, soft and sweet and unlike any kiss he’s delivered. All the others have been full of passion. Raw. A little rough.

  Not this one. My lips are tingling and I reach up and touch them, watching as he goes to the door, flashes me one last grin over his shoulder, and then opens the screen door, sliding through it and shutting it with barely a sound.

  The room is depressingly quiet without him there and the air conditioner clicks on. A blast of icy air hits me, making me shiver, and I tuck the sheet tight around my neck, letting out a trembling sigh as I close my eyes, waiting for sleep to take over.

  But it doesn’t. I can’t sleep. I’ve been up most of the night, occupied by Max’s insistent hands and mouth and body, and I should be exhausted. My body is sated and tired. My brain, though, is wide awake and full of disturbing thoughts.

  Like how lonely I am. Despite spending hours with a man who knew just how to touch my body to make me respond in the most outrageous way, I feel alone. Hollow.

  Empty.

  I didn’t want Max to leave, which is dumb. I couldn’t express that to him. He’d think I’m a psycho with a dependency problem. I barely know him. I shouldn’t have these sorts of expectations because they’re unrealistic. How I view the world is totally unrealistic. Skewed. I am the quintessential poor little rich girl and I’ve worn the role for so long, I almost prefer it to anything else. I’m in my comfort zone, wallowing in my lonely existence.

  Stupid.

  Gazing up at the wall, I will myself to fall asleep, regretting I didn’t bring my sleeping pills with me. I didn’t want to depend on them and look where it got me. Wide awake when I should feel sated and sleepy and content. I got what I wanted.

  Supposedly. But they always leave. Men. Not that I really want them to stay, because I have no idea what it’s like to have a real relationship with a man. A one-night stand? Oh yes. I’ve got those down pat. A few nights of constant fucking with one guy? I can do that, too. But nothing lasting, ever.