Copyright © 2015 Leah Braemel
Not only would it get her used to the idea of both of them touching her, but it would give him the freedom to take his time going down on her. Man, did he want to taste that sweetness between her thighs.
Max wrapped an arm around Hayley’s waist, his skin dark against the porcelain of hers. She twisted her head to look at him—there was an almost visible connection between them that Noah wanted to be part of. Love in Max’s eyes, and friendship and trust in Hayley’s.
Hayley twisted in Max’s arms, draped her arms around his neck, the length of her spine curving like a ballerina’s, her breasts pressing against Max’s chest, the two of them unaware of anything else, of him. Max caught Hayley’s mouth with his… Her soft sigh spoke of need and desire as her eyes fluttered closed. Max cupped her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple that peaked with the attention until she moaned and arched up. Only then did he capture one nipple between his teeth, tugging slightly, earning a sharp intake of breath.
Her eyes still closed, Hayley’s head fell back, the pins in her hair sparkling under the overhead lights.
Max was hard angles, muscles covered in tanned skin, made darker from the dark hair, especially over his chest, the cut of muscle sloping over his hips, the heavy erection bobbing from a nest at his groin were all angular compared to Hayley’s curves, from the plump breasts to the slope from her waist to her hip.
They were a living Vermeer, a study of light and dark, of smooth and hard, of beauty both masculine and feminine.
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