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  “You haven’t been with anyone else, have you?” He looked up at me from between my thighs.

  “God no. Have you?”

  “No. And I’m always careful. Do you want me to use a condom?”

  He hadn’t asked the first time. I guessed he realized that was not the smartest move.

  “I’m still on the pill,” I replied to put the question behind us.

  “Good.” He pulled apart my thighs and stared at the sensitive flesh between my legs. “God, I’ve been fantasizing about this for over a month.” He lightly floated his hand over my throbbing, aching bud. “I can’t believe no one’s ever touched you before, Lily.”

  Panting with hard anticipation, I threw back my head and grabbed fistfuls of sheets. “Just you, Mr. Cole.”

  He chuckled, and I felt his breath on my entrance. “I’ve got my face two inches from your pussy. Can’t you call me Max?”

  “Sorry. Old habits, Mr. Co—”

  He thrust his finger inside me, and I reacted with a wince. I still wasn’t used to anything going inside me, but it felt so, so good.

  “Max.” He pulled his finger out and thrust it in again, causing me to moan. “You’ll call me Max.” He thrust another finger into my slick entrance.

  “Even when we’re at work?” The sensation of his sensual strokes was making me lose my mind.

  “Yes.” He placed his mouth over my c-spot and slid his tongue over the tip. “Especially at work.”

  Oh, God. He’d barely touched me, and I was already so close.

  “Max…” I panted. “I really want…”

  “Yes?” He pumped his hand and fingers between my legs, igniting every nerve. “Tell me what you want.”

  “You…I want you…” Forever. Like this. Him and me, our bodies touching, and no one else.

  He moved over me and settled between my legs, every inch of bare naked skin-to-skin contact igniting every inch of desire contained inside my body.

  And then he kissed me.

  It wasn’t like any of the other times—those rough hot kisses in Milan that only touched my lips for passing moments before vacating to my neck or breasts, or how he kissed me softly earlier in his study. This was the kind of kiss I’d dreamed of my entire life—filled with the sort of passion that only exists when two people pour themselves into one another. It was the open, sensual expression of a desire that could never be articulated with words. There was no premeditation or thinking involved—just feeling and giving and absorbing and wanting. It was everything, fulfilling and euphoric at the cellular level, and nothing all at once, because it left me with a hollowness, knowing it couldn’t last forever. The best I could do was try to remember it, and hope I wouldn’t go insane once it left me.

  For the moment, however, that kiss was my world—free of negative emotions or impending scandals. And when he thrust his cock deep inside me, I fought hard not to come instantly from the overwhelming sensations and emotions. His lips were the emotional connection, his cock the physical one. As he pumped, I moaned into his mouth, holding his lips to mine with my hands on his cheeks. I didn’t want one side to win—emotion versus physical. I wanted them both. I wanted all of him.

  He fucked me hard, and I kissed him harder. Our bodies writhed in a sexual dance while our hearts pounded in unison.

  His hands slid under my body, cupping my ass to increase the thrusting power. My hips slammed into him, my lips sucked and kissed and pushed to his.

  The friction of his large cock sliding in and out, filling me over and over again, felt so different this time. There was only the intimate sensation of him deep inside my body and the delicious pressure I didn’t want to end. I just wanted to get him deeper.

  I tipped my hips, allowing him to angle the head of his cock toward that spot inside me I instinctively craved. When he hit it, I exploded with a hard orgasm that radiated outward in a blinding sinful light that sent my body somewhere else.

  I moaned into his mouth, and he broke the kiss. Then our eyes met as he thrust hard and came, his gravelly groans mixing with my sounds. I felt his hard flesh twitch inside me, pouring his cum, the walls of my core milking him for every drop of pleasure.

  Still, he never looked away.

  People say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And in that moment, I knew—with every drop of blood flowing through my heart—that what we were together was so much more. It wasn’t subjective or up for debate. It was the purest form of beauty that existed in the world.

  Still inside me, Max relaxed into my body, resting his mouth on that little spot between my neck and shoulder. His hot breath tickled my neck, and the lazy kisses he applied were better than any dessert I’d ever tasted, any song I’d ever heard.

  I stopped breathing for a second. Maybe two. How in the world could he make me feel like this? So wanted, so beautiful.

  I was definitely falling in love with this man. We were two perfect halves who’d found each other and made something more.

  But what would we do with the ugly halves?

  I’d soon come to realize that they’d come after us with a vengeance, looking to destroy us.

  “Tell me, Lily, when did you realize you wanted to be a goddess?”

  I laughed, gazing into his hazel eyes, the dim light from the hallway casting light over one wall.

  “A goddess?” Now separated, but our bodies still touching, Max looked at me—really looked at me—and his expression was full of affection. It humbled me.

  “Yes. A goddess in my bed. In my life,” he said.

  “Don’t be so corny, Max. It undermines your alpha-male mystique.”

  He smiled, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “I can’t help it. I’ve been struggling for so fucking long, and now I have to wonder if it wasn’t all for you.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re some closet romantic.”

  “Closet romantic, no. But I believe in manifest destiny—you being the occupier, of course.”

  I smiled. “Oh, Mr. Cole, do talk historical terms to me. It makes me feel so dirty,” I said jokingly.

  He grinned, and it literally filled me, bathed me, permeated me in the deepest joy.

  “All I can say is that sometimes things happen for a reason. And I can’t explain the fact that I haven’t been able to make any progress with my disorder until you came along. My only explanation is that I really wanted it to happen.”

  “That is the corniest bullshit any guy has ever said to get in my pants.” I smiled. “Okay. It’s the only corny thing anyone’s said to get into my pants; nevertheless, I won’t tolerate these cheesy lines from you. So either put up or shut up.”

  He laughed toward the ceiling. “My, my. Aren’t we the greedy little woman?”

  “Greedy?” I pointed to myself. “You promised me a weekend of fucking some sense into me. I’m still waiting.” I was going out of my frigging mind. For him.

  “Just giving my giant cock a little rest. But I promise there’s more.”

  I laughed. “You call that giant? No wonder you didn’t show it in that lip-gloss campaign. Us ladies would’ve mistaken it for the product.”

  His jaw dropped.

  “Did I go too far?” I asked.

  “You just called my dick ‘lip gloss.’”

  The thing was huge. Porn star huge. But did this man seriously need me to say that? He knew what he had. His ego was proof of that.

  “I guess I could take another look and reevaluate?” I shrugged innocently. After all, I had really, really been dying to have another up close and personal experience with his penis in my mouth. It was a serious ego boost of my own.

  “If you must, Miss Snow,” he said with an exaggeratedly silly deep voice, “but why don’t we take it to the shower? I’ve been fantasizing about lathering you from head to toe in soap and then getting you dirty again.”

  I liked that plan. A lot.

  I jumped from the bed and bolted across his big open bedroom, heading for his enormous, sc
ary-clean, shiny man bathroom—no frills whatsoever—for the shower. Yes, this man wasn’t a clean freak, but he definitely needed a little more “dirty” in his life. I was there to help.

  ~~~

  Sunday morning, I awoke to two things. One incredibly good. The second not so great.

  “Max.” I gave him a shake, his strong, heavy legs intertwined with mine, his head resting on my chest. I hated to break up this moment of waking up in a man’s arms for the first time, but…“There’s someone ringing the doorbell.” Over and over again.

  He groaned and rolled off, giving me his back.

  Boy, this man was a heavy sleeper. “Max, wake up.”

  He wasn’t having it, and after a night of animalistic, sensual fucking that resulted in me actually losing my mind in orgasmic pleasure, I couldn’t blame him for wanting his rest.

  I slipped from the bed, giving a longing glance at his tanned, hard, bare ass, and grabbed his tux shirt from the floor, closing it with my hands. Max was a big guy, so his shirt on my body looked like a very short dress.

  I shuffled down the stairs and opened the front door, using it as a body shield and assuming the person would be his driver waiting to whisk him away.

  I threw open the door. “Sorry, but Mr. Cole is mine for…” My voice trailed off as I took in the woman standing before me. Her dark hair and hazel eyes told me all I needed to know. This had to be his mother. He had the exact same scowl when he was angry. Other than that, however, her face was abnormally…perfect. You know when you see those people on TV who are addicted to plastic surgery and their noses are so straight and their lips are so full that they look imperfect? Nature doesn’t make anyone that symmetric. Just like it doesn’t make fifty-year-olds with tight skin and zero wrinkles.

  “Lily Snow…” She looked me up and down like a turd that landed in her way.

  “Yes, I’m Lily,” I said weakly, not sure what to make of her tone. “How do you know me?”

  “I’m his mother. I make it my business to know who’s trying to slum their way into my son’s life. And I assume from the lack of clothing, you spent the night fucking my Maxwell. So now that he’s had his fun,” she lifted her chin, “I suggest you go back to whatever rock you crawled out from.”

  Had she really just said that to me? Had Maxwell Cole’s mother treated me like a piece of shit?

  Yep.

  Staring at her familiar hazel eyes, I unclenched my fist. “I’ve got a really great idea. Why don’t you go fuck yourself?” I slammed the door in her face and marched upstairs, giving Max a little jiggle. “Max, your mother is here. And I think I finally understand everything about you.”

  He cracked open one eye and looked at me. “My mother is here?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. And Jesus, Max, what a bitch. No wonder you’re so fucked up.”

  He blew out a breath and ran his hands over the top of his thick head of brown hair. “You don’t know the half of it.” He slowly moved to his feet and slid on his discarded black tux pants. “I’ll be right back. You stay here.”

  Should I mention that I just told her to go fuck herself and slammed the door in her face?

  I heard screaming, like a banshee with PMS, erupt from downstairs.

  Nah, I think he just figured it out.

  Then I heard every bitter, degrading, vicious word from her mouth—he was disgusting, stupid, a loser. How dare he tarnish their lives with the ugly filth he’d brought to his bed—and my pity factor elevated tenfold.

  God, Max.

  After several minutes, I heard the front door close and Max’s heavy steps approach up the stairs.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I dug my nails into the mattress, and his eyes met mine. He looked apologetic.

  “That was awkward,” he said.

  “Max, she’s so toxic. Why is she even in your life?”

  “She and my father own fifty-one percent of my company—well, the family trust does. But she controls it.”

  I hadn’t known that. “How did that happen?”

  “She fronted the money when I started. We kept growing, so I could never buy her out.”

  I scratched my head. “How have you put up with that for so long?”

  This man was…fearless. He took shit from no one. And compared to her, he was a saint.

  He sat next to me on the edge of the unmade bed, but didn’t look at me. “I’ve tried to get through to her—she is, after all, my mother—but she doesn’t believe there’s anything wrong with the way she behaves. Not even the fact that my sister disowned her and won’t speak with anyone who has a connection with her has swayed my mother’s opinion.”

  That was such a sad thing to hear. His own sister had chosen to leave her entire family behind rather than have even indirect contact with that evil woman. I understood why, but couldn’t she have found a way? On the other hand, who knew how damaged his sister was. Maybe just looking at Max, who had his own issues to deal with, reminded her of her pain.

  “It’s the reason I decided to take C.C. public,” he explained. “Once that happens, my mother will own stock—so will I—but we’ll have a board of trusties and shareholders. She won’t hold any real power.”

  I bit my lip.

  So C.C. was really a family company and the IPO wasn’t just a move to grow. It was Maxwell Cole’s passage to freedom. Everything he’d been doing wasn’t for greed or power, but to escape.

  “Does she accept any blame for your disorder?” I asked.

  “No. And she doesn’t acknowledge her own.”

  What a great mom.

  “And the book?” I asked. “Does she know?”

  “Yes.” He rubbed his unshaven jaw. “She’s not pleased. She stands to lose a lot of money if the company goes under, but that’s my issue to deal with, not yours.”

  Not exactly true. It was my issue too, but I understood what he meant. The problem was that I cared. And I wanted to know how he ever expected to truly get over his issue if this vile, cruel woman remained in his life.

  “Max, will there ever be a point that she’ll be completely gone?” I couldn’t begin to articulate what being in her presence had felt like. There wasn’t an ounce of compassion or niceness in her body. She was simply evil.

  “Not unless I follow in my sister’s footsteps and disown my entire family, including my father,” he responded.

  I couldn’t imagine being put in that position. Having to choose between your family and your sanity. Especially since he’d already lost his sister.

  “So your father’s still with your mother?”

  He nodded. “Yes. He’s terrified of her, which is another reason I find it hard to cut them out of my life.” I didn’t have to ask if that meant his father never stood up for him. I pretty much guessed he hadn’t.

  Wow. I suddenly felt so grateful for my insanely loving parents. They would never allow anyone, let alone someone in our family, to hurt us like that.

  “Let’s get some breakfast,” he said, giving my bare thigh a loving stroke. “Then I can take you to your thrift-store debacle to collect some clothes.”

  He didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and I understood why. Still, my heart genuinely went out to this beautiful man, and strangely, it didn’t make him lesser in my eyes. It made him more—more human, more admirable. He’d built his dream despite having to deal with some rather daunting emotional obstacles.

  “Max, don’t go insulting my woman cave. And why would I need clothes?” I stood in front of him and stripped off his tux shirt, letting it fall to the floor.

  His eyes traveled up and down the length of my naked body.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I didn’t say you needed them right away. But you can’t go to work like that tomorrow. I mean, yes, you could…but then I wouldn’t get any work done.”

  “I’ll go home tonight.”

  “Not to stay.” He folded his arms over his bare chest.

  “Max, I can’t live here. It’s too weird. And that Nanc
y woman is probably watching your house.”

  “You’re not living here; you’re staying for a few weeks. To start. And that Nancy woman can screw herself.” He stood and grabbed me around the waist. “And if you don’t mind, Lily, I’d like to get on with some screwing of my own.”

  I couldn’t resist that charming smile. Not when it was so genuinely seductive and those little smile grooves had made an appearance. “Fine. You can screw me.” My sore body demanded it now that I felt the heat of his hard cock pressing against me through his pants. “But we’re not done with this conversation.” He kissed me and backed me up until my ass ran into the narrow table against the wall.

  I reached for the button of his pants and opened them up. The moment they fell around his ankles, he stepped out and spun me around. Before I realized what he was doing, he pushed me forward and stroked me from behind, letting his fingers slide between my folds, instantly drawing a soft moan from my lips.

  “God, Lily, you’re already wet for me.” His tone indicated how much that pleased him. He suddenly gripped my hips and thrust into me in one smooth, hard stroke, stealing my breath.

  He pulled out and thrust his hips forward again.

  I let out a sharp gasp. He felt so good inside me, but there was no doubt that the three rounds of sex from last night had left me raw and overly tense. He wasn’t getting very deep.

  “You’re so fucking tight, Lily.” Holding me firmly, he withdrew and eased in again. “Try to relax.” This time he stayed there, not moving for several moments, allowing me to enjoy the sensation of his thick cock inside me. I felt my muscles relax around his hard flesh and then the throbbing, buzzing euphoric pressure building on my c-spot. I wanted him to touch me there, but knew if he did, it would all be over too quickly.

  “That’s right,” he said in a husky voice. “Just like that.” He slowly pulled out and eased back in again, applying pressure to that sweet, sweet spot deep inside me. “Try to stay relaxed.”

  The sensual sound of his deep voice and the coaxing, smooth motions of his hips and shaft felt like a blissful massage of my aching inner walls. They molded around him, allowing him to deepen the penetration.