9. "What’s for dinner, honey?”
Roswell cahr. not mine.

The house was aglow with candles of all shapes and sizes.

Flames flickered, casting shadows along the walls.

The warm rich scents of vanilla and cinnamon wafted through the air, heightening his senses and bringing a smile to his face.

Max closed the door and headed down the hall with a purposeful stride and a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Liz was up to something.


He loved her sexy little whims. She was always surprising him with her delicious fantasies and playfulness. With him, she wasn't afraid to let go and bring her pleasures and delights forth for them to both enjoy.

And enjoy her he did.

Liz was lying across their bed, naked.

Candlelight danced on her body, bathing her in sensual softness. With her thighs parted wide, he could see the glistening wetness seeping from deep inside her.

There were a couple of bowls on the beside table and when he looked back and forth between her body and the bowls with raised eyebrows and questioning eyes, she giggled, delightful and enchanting.

Max dipped a finger into the light and fluffy mixture that filled one of the bowls and brought it to his lips; whipped cream, with edible glitter that sparkled like diamonds in the snow when caught by the flames.

With a broad and charming smile, he began to spread it over her in long smooth strokes with his hand.

No words of greeting were spoken, for there was no need.

Liz didn’t want words, and he didn’t have them to give for if he tried, his voice would crack and catch in this throat.

Her nipples poked through the mountain of cream that he had formed over each of her breasts.

He'd written his name with a possessive flourish in the confection that he'd lathered on her stomach.

With a light and delicate touch, he began covering her sex with it, making sure not to miss any folds. Her scent, combined with the sweet smell of sugar intoxicated him.

Max stood and looked down at her, wiping the excess cream on her hips, licking and sucking the remaining traces from his fingers.

His eyes traveled up and down the length of her body...once, twice...then once again, finally locking onto her gaze, seeing her love and delight shining back at him from emerald green pools.

He glanced quickly at the bowl of fresh picked berries, then back at her.

Max began to undress.

His clothes were in a pile on the floor before he reached for a handful of fruit. With fingers that were less than steady he buried ripe, plump blackberries and raspberries in the mounds of whipped cream around her nipples.

He reached for another handful and let them fall from his fingers, lodging in the white cream over other various parts of her body.

Kneeling down on one knee between her legs, he began placing berries around her sex. He nestled them inside her cream coated lips, lodged one over her clit carefully, and took some strawberry halves, fanning them out on her inner thighs.

There was however, one strawberry that Liz had left whole. It was very large, very ripe, and very red. Taking it between his thumb and forefinger, he dipped half of the berry in whipped cream and slowly, with a naughty glimmer in his eyes, began inserting it inside her.

Max watched as her sex stretched to accommodate the berry, watched as her deep pink flesh contrasted beautifully with the deep red piece of fruit.

He left half of the strawberry visible. Kissing her on the inside of a knee, he stood to look at her.

No sundae, parfait, or shortcake had ever looked so good.

Max was erect, had been since he'd walked in the door, but it was more acute now, painful almost, aching.

For Liz.

Leaning down, he dipped his finger in the whipped cream and presented it to her mouth.

Liz parted her lips, licking his finger clean in slow whirling circles.

He took her mouth with his, sliding his tongue against hers getting his second taste of the cream and his first taste of her.

The kiss was deep and ravenous. Tongues entwined, moans coming from deep within.

Max was careful not to touch her body, as he had plans for the feast that he'd created.

His mouth slipped away from hers, down her chin, open down her throat. His lips came in contact with the whipped cream that he had lathered over her and in slow, tantalizing sweeps of his tongue, he began to lick her.

Around her breasts, his lips closed over berries. Some he shared with her, others he savored for himself. They were succulent, juicy, and sweet, not unlike the woman spread lovingly before him.

His mouth closed over her nipples, first one then the other, sucking them, laving them, nipping at them lightly.

He lifted her breasts, making sure to lick every bit of cream from her skin.

Liz moaned deeply, fisted her hands in the bed covers, but remained still. Her body quivered though, from the inside.

Max saw it, felt it in ripples as he licked her belly.

His tongue swirled around her sex lapping up whipped cream from every delicate fold. He savored the taste of what was uniquely her, combined with sweet, smooth, sugary confection, and juicy berries.

Ambrosia was what it was…heavenly, decadent.

He used nothing but his mouth on the strawberry that so erotically jutted from her ripeness. With tongue and teeth he nibbled and sucked at the piece of fruit, her juices mingling together with that of the berry.

Slipping his tongue on the underside of the strawberry, he was able to scoop the last bit into his mouth. He closed his eyes, chewed slowly. The mixed flavors remained in his mouth long after he’d swallowed them all, and it was a taste he wouldn’t soon be forgetting.

His cock pressed against the side of the bed, twitching. Max couldn’t ever remember an arousal like this, so painful, yet in the most pleasurable way.

Slowly crawling up her body, but not before placing a tender and delicate kiss to her ripened folds, he prepared to make love to her.

It wouldn’t be a slow, gentle romantic loving, but a hard, insistent loving fuck.

She was the type of woman that appreciated a man when he needed her this way, when she knew she’d teased him beyond his endurance; she accepted and even welcomed his rough urgency. It was one of the reasons he loved her as he did.

Liz's legs lifted around his hips and he slipped his arms under her knees, kneeling back between her legs. With a hard, single thrust, he entered her wet heat, leaving not an inch to spare.

Her body jolted and her fingers clawed at his arms. He leaned down and ravished her mouth with his tongue and teeth and lips, tasting her, sharing her own taste between them.

Her return of his kiss was no less violent than his and his groans were swallowed triumphantly.

Max couldn’t control the pounding of his hips, the raw emotional way he took her body and made it his.

Liz matched him thrust for thrust, her breasts bouncing up and down with the force.

He sat back on his heels and grabbed at her ass, pulling her up higher on him. Her legs wide and resting over his arms, her pussy hot and dripping, her body flushed from the loving and the teasing; he took the whole sight in, savored it, committed it to his overflowing file of memories, and emptied his shaft and balls deep inside her.

Shots in the dark, bright diamond lights behind his amber eyes, his semen flooded her.

The pleasure was intense, making him dizzy.

Max held her against him as his cock pulsed and grew within. He beckoned her with his eyes to touch herself as he came. He wanted to watch her finger, watch her pussy as she gave in to the orgasm that her body was begging for.

Liz held back, he knew, for him. She gave of herself. His pleasure was hers.

Her middle finger slipped through the wet folds of her sex and came to rest against her clit. In tight circular motions she began rubbing. With each movement her hips bucked.

His cock, still hard within her was fucked hard.

She couldn’t hold still, she couldn’t slow down.

Her back arched and her head bent backwards.

She was there…

Her silken walls quivered and squeezed him.

Held him and released him.

The scream that erupted from deep inside her was his name.

Max couldn’t help but smile. She was truly beautiful and he always fell in love with her all over again when he saw her this way.

Liz gave everything when she came, held nothing from him, bared her soul, and it touched him.

Sliding his arms out from under her knees, and lifting her wet finger from her sex, he laid down on top of her, sucking her finger as he did so.

He slid his hands into her hair and held her head still for a tender, loving kiss of thankfulness, of delight, of homage to the woman of his heart.

When he opened his eyes and looked down at her smiling back at him with her twinkling doe eyes, his body still joined to hers, he said the only thing he could think of.

“Now that we’ve had dessert, what’s for dinner, honey?”