Maximum Exposure by Alison Kent - Smithson Group SG-5 10 - Maximum Exposure Page A

was he doing, selling his soul like he could afford the transaction?
    She moved her hands from the chair to his shoulders and watched the spot where their bodies were joined as she began to ride. He held her hips as she ground against him, rubbing her clit hard on the base of his shaft. Held her as she raised up, her thighs taut, keeping nothing but the bulbous head of his cock inside her before sliding slowly back down.
    She swallowed him, devoured him. He watched his cock disappear inch by inch into her hungry cunt, watched how tightly his girth stretched her, watched her clit sit up and beg. He slid his hands to her thighs, moved them close to the V between, close enough to pinch the hard knot with his thumbs.
    “Ooh, ooh,” she grunted. “Harder. To the left. Yes, oh, right there. God, yes. Right there.”
    He played her as she instructed, her flesh slick and warm and plump. The sounds she made. The smell of her sex. Her sweat, which was as sweet as her juices running down his shaft to the crack of his ass. His cock, which had never been so well fucked. It was too much. He was done. The small of his back tingled. His balls drew up, hard and tight.
    He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, buried his face between her breasts, and pumped into her, driving upward, holding her tight as he came, as she came, her sex sucking, tugging, milking him dry, his cock fairly exploding and taking her apart.
    She collapsed against him, damp, breathless, her hair a tangled mess. And then he felt her smile. “You’re still hard.”
    A fact that didn’t surprise him at all. “It’s been awhile.”
    She used her palms on his chest to lever herself upright. “Would that have anything to do with you telling women you’re gay?”
    Ah, so she thought she was tricky. “Have I said that I wasn’t?”
    “No, but actions speak louder than words.”
    “You think that was something to hear? Get down on all fours.”
    She didn’t say a word. Just backed off his lap and turned. Before he knew it, she had her hands and knees on the ground, her ass in the air, her pussy glistening with their juices. It didn’t even cross his mind to say no.
    He followed her down and mounted her, driving deep, pounding, fucking her like it was his last day on earth and she’d been given to him for his pleasure—an analogy that was more on target than he wanted to think about, and so he didn’t think at all.
    He just used her there on the floor until both of them were raw and spent. It seemed like the thing to do, the thing they most wanted, this place one they’d been destined to reach since the first time they’d met. One he feared more than anything would destroy them both.

Fourteen
    “S o now you’re interested?” Livia asked, feeling Finn’s tension in the hand holding on to her and in his taut posture. He looked like he was ready to snap.
    He did, his frustration evident in his harsh whisper. “Did I ever say I wasn’t?”
    She wondered about the source of his sudden irritation; was he that upset that she hadn’t given Dustin all the facts first thing?
    She waited several seconds, waited for him to calm, to release her before she spoke. Once he had, she said, “You told me you weren’t a photographer.”
    “I’m not.”
    “And you made it clear that you aren’t crazy about what I do.”
    “I’m not.”
    “What was I supposed to think when you never gave me a clear yes or no?”
    He shrugged in response.
    “Now you want the job. Is that what you’re saying?”
    “What I want is not to be manipulated. I don’t play games. I thought we were clear on that.”
    They were. And it wasn’t too much to ask, that she treat him honestly. She knew that, down where she didn’t have to worry about being screwed over herself.
    She reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together when he gave it, and guided him through the crowd and toward the final portrait, where fewer of Dustin’s friends lingered. Once they had the privacy