Max still carried you from his rental to your hotel room.
"Max, really, I can walk now."
"Shh… Humor me," he whispered, jostling you in his arms as he walked the long hallway to your room. "Here, hold onto my neck while I unlock your door."
Once he had the door open, he carried you inside, and took you immediately to the bed, depositing you on top of it. Then he was lying half on top of you, his mouth attached to your neck, his arms enclosing around you.
"Wait, what are you doing," you gasped out. You couldn't fight the urge to curl your fingers into his hair and moan softly as his skilled mouth suckled the tender skin of your neck.
"I said I'd wait to kiss you…" He mumbled between kisses to your neck. "But I never said I'd refrain from kissing your neck."
"God, Max, please…" you cried softly. A fire was starting within you. "You're making me feel things I don't want to feel."
"Can't stop…" Max groaned. "You taste and feel so good."
"Max," you moaned softly, unable to fathom the pleasure he was giving you.
"That's it, just give yourself to me, sweetheart. We both know you're going to before long."
"Max, oh God… Please…"
He added a stroke of his tongue to the soft skin of your neck. His mouth trailed over to your collarbone, nibbled then kissed lower, moving the collar of your blouse aside as he slowly trailed his mouth ever so slightly toward your breasts.
A breathless cry past your throat and you arched your back, a silent plea for more–a soft offering of yourself.
"You want more?"
You panted, "God yes, but…" You breathed hard again.
"But?"
"I can't Max. I just can't."
