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Maxwell sat in the living room with Brighton, playing yet another game of chess, when Fran and Maggie rushed inside. Maggie seemed very upset, “How could you do it, Fran?”
Fran shrugged, “Well you told me to go for it!”
“I didn’t tell you to win!” The girls walked into the living room, stopping near the coffee table.
“I’m sorry, my mouth has a mind of its own! There’s no stopping it!” Fran tossed her purse to the side and threw her hands on her hips.
“Never a truer word spoken,” Maxwell stated as he got up. He stepped between the girls and tucked his hands into his pockets, “Alright, so what’s going on here?”
“I can’t believe it. By tomorrow, everyone at school is going to know that my nanny beat me out of a kissing contest,” Maggie responded, storming away.
“What?” He turned to Fran, “You won the contest?”
“Well,” she responded coyly, “If you wanna call it a contest.” She sat down on the couch and started to clean up the now abandoned game of chess.
Brighton, sensing that his father was about to get upset, quickly got up and fled for his room. Maxwell sighed and picked up the chess table, “Well, as far as your winning this contest is concerned, we’ll sort this nonsense out in no time.”
She got up quickly, offended, “Nonsense?”
“Well, Miss Fine… You don’t seriously think you actually won, do you? I mean, they were looking for a beautiful teenager!” He lifted his hand, “And, lovely as you are, you aren’t exactly a teenager, eh?”
“Well I remember my graduation a lot better than some people that I won’t spell it out for,” she ripped the chess set out of his hands, “y-o-u.” She turned to walk away.
“Please Miss Fine, you don’t seriously expect me to believe you beat out hundreds of young girls just because of your kissing prowess?” He asked as he followed her.
“No! I beat them because I happen to be a fabulous kisser!” She set the chess set on the table by the front door.
“Don’t you think you’ve gone a little overboard on the hyperbole?” He turned to walk back towards the living room, unamused with the conversation.
Fran sniffed her wrists as she followed him, “I’m wearing Obsession!”
Maxwell rolled his eyes, stopped in front of his favorite chair, and turned towards her, “Miss Fine, this is insanity! There’s absolutely no way you could have won that contest legitimately!”
“Oh no?” She challenged as she stepped closer.
He shook his head, inching closer to the chair, “No!”
“Oh yeah?”
He turned back towards her, “Yeah!”
“Well you asked for it,” she pressed her hands to his chest and pushed him down into the chair, “buster!”
He hadn’t expected what she did next. She climbed onto the chair beside him, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him. Except that this wasn’t just any ordinary kiss; it was an experience. She kissed him so long, and so hard, that he forgot how to even move–his hands stayed suspended in space–hell, he even forgot how to breathe.
When she was finally finished with him, she climbed off and gave a satisfied smirk, “Well I’m sorry I had to get tough with ya, but you had to learn.”
He remained frozen in his seat, his arms hanging loosely off the arms of the chair. His lips were parted and stained with her lipstick. His breath came out ragged, his body reeling from what had just happened. He was torn between asking her to go upstairs with him and chastising her for even doing something like that, especially in a space where his children could have seen them.
When he was finally able to move, he let out a soft grunt, “Uh… Yes… Well um… Right. Of course. Uh,” he cleared his throat, pulling a tissue from his pocket to wipe lipstick from his mouth, “you know, Miss Fine, I thought I’d considered every possible scenario: Maggie wins and I’m miserable. Maggie loses and she’s miserable.” He wagged a finger as he stopped behind her, “But aha! Here’s the wildcard: You win and we’re all miserable.”
The rest of their interaction left Maxwell feeling frustrated and confused. He’d intended to chastise Fran for winning the contest, but she somehow turned it around on him. By the end of the conversation, he was dying to be in a pub with his hands wrapped around a lager. “If you had absolutely no intention of going through with this album cover in the first place, what are we arguing about?”
Fran started up the stairs, “Well I have no idea! I can’t shake the image of you picking up Paul Bunion in a bar!”
He pressed his fingers deep into his temples as she raced up the stairs, “God! It’d be easier to have them raised by wolves.”
***
A day had passed and Maxwell was still reeling from Fran’s kiss. Electricity coursed through his body anytime he thought about it. He couldn’t remember a time where he’d ever been kissed in that way.
Sure, he’d had his share of passionate kisses. But none of them had ever been quite like that. Her tongue had practically reached his tonsils for god's sake! She’d left him wanting more, wanting to experience that same thrill again.
So there he sat, staring at the stack of paperwork he was pretending to do, trying to think of a reason–any reason–to get her to kiss him like that again. Niles and C.C. appeared in the doorframe of his office at the same time, their shoulders squeezing one another and preventing either of them from entering.
Maxwell set down the pen he’d been fidgeting with and looked up at them, a half smile on his face, “May I help you?”
C.C. burst through the door first and rushed frantically towards his desk, “Nanny Fine’s old!”
“What?” He frowned as he looked up at her. Niles himself looked displeased, positioning himself in his usual spot next to Maxwell’s desk.
C.C. continued, out of breath and seemingly excited, “She didn’t win the contest because she’s a good kisser. She won it because they wanted someone really old like her!”
“Old? Oh that’s preposterous,” he said as he got up. “What is she, twenty-nine? Thirty?” He rounded his desk, headed for the door to go find Fran himself and clear this up.
C.C. let out an incredulous laugh, “Oh puh-lease! To what power?” She slapped her leg, finding this incredibly humorous, “I mean, do we really know how old she is under all that makeup? She could be-”
“Your age,” Niles stated dryly, cutting her off.
She nodded, “That’s right, she could be close to for…get it Niles! Oh it is so pathetic, Nanny Fine thinking she could win a kissing contest. I mean kissing is an art. It has to be sensuous, deeply felt, and most of all, it has to be spontaneous.”
Maxwell wandered away as she rambled, choosing to look through his filing cabinet. Poor C.C. had neglected to notice Niles walking over and taking his place. Instead of Maxwell like she wanted, she grabbed hold of Niles and gave him a kiss. Both of them pulled away in shock. “Was it as bad for you as it was for me?” Niles asked.
Having had enough, Maxwell stepped away from his cabinet, “Poor Miss Fine. And I was so insensitive to her. Maybe I should go see if she’s alright.” He left the two of them alone, ignoring the both of them as they looked absolutely horrified with one another, and headed straight towards the stairwell. He knew exactly how to make her feel better.
In her bedroom, Fran lay in bed eating the pizza she’d ordered earlier on. When there was a knock at the door, she quickly hid the pizza under the covers and turned towards the door before inviting Maxwell in.
He sat down beside her on the edge of the bed, close enough to touch her while still maintaining some professional boundary. “Miss Fine, I heard about the contest and I just can’t bear the thought of you feeling badly about yourself.”
“Oh, thank you Mr. Sheffield, but really there’s nothing you could say or do that’s going to make me feel any better,” she responded softly, folding her hands in her lap.
“Well then, I suppose I’d be wasting my breath if I told you that I think no girl could possibly be a match for a woman like you.” He gave a soft smirk as she encouraged him to continue. “Why are you Americans so obsessed with youth? You know, I prefer the more civilized European sensibility that people improve with age. Like… Like fine wine. Especially a beautiful wine, that’s robust and earthy, yet… sweet and strangely compelling.”
She grinned at him, “Ohh, you’re good!”
He waved a finger, “One more thing before I stop wasting my breath: I think you are one heck of a kisser.”
“Oh, Mr. Sheffield, stop!” She laughed as she waved him off. As he started to get up from the bed, she grabbed his arm, “Go on…”
“I can’t remember being kissed like that. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I've ever been kissed quite like that before,” he added with a thoughtful expression.
“No more! I’m blushing!” She grabbed his arm as he went to move once more, “Like what?”
“Well… with such passion!” He turned back towards her, “Such abandon! Such…”
“Such?” She asked, mimicking his same bodily expression.
There was a boyish smirk to his face as he finally responded, “Suction.”
She raised her hands and laughed, “Yeah, well… Danny used to always call me his little Dirt Devil.”
He laughed a little as he turned his head away, mildly intrigued at the thoughts that nickname evoked. He feigned confusion, “Really? Isn’t that… charming?”
“Oh, Mr. Sheffield, you are so wonderful. Here I was eating…” she glanced at the pizza box concealed under the covers, “my heart out, and then you come up and make me feel so much better. You’re such a doll. I could just…”
“Just what, Miss Fine?” His brow quirked up a little and he hoped she would say what he thought she would say.
“Kiss you,” she responded with a soft smile.
“Oh… Well, far be it from me to refuse a token of gratitude from a lady.” He pulled his glasses off and closed his eyes, parting his lips a little as he waited.
Fran reached forward and grabbed the sides of his face and leaned in. She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.
As she pulled back, Maxwell couldn’t help but feel a little disappointment. While he appreciated the kind gesture, he had expected a different kind of kiss from her. One that was less sweet and more electric. The kind that would leave him questioning the professional boundaries of their relationship. The kind she'd given him in the living room the other day. When she’d pushed him down, practically crawled in his lap, and claimed him for herself.
Unbeknownst to him, as he sat there thinking about what could have been, he remained leaning forward, his lips still parted in anticipation. She watched him for a beat. She noticed the way his breath seemed a bit more labored, his lips parted and eyes closed, like he had been waiting for a different kind of kiss.
She smirked at him as she let her hands fall away from his face, “Mr. Sheffield… If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were expecting more from me.”
His eyes fluttered open slowly and a pink blush spread across his cheeks, “N-no, Miss Fine. It’s nothing like that.” He laughed uncomfortably, he’d been busted, “I just thought that… Well… When you said you were going to kiss me…” He cleared his throat, words escaping him, “Well, you know.”
She tipped her head at him, “I’m not sure I do know.” Just to toy with him, she shifted even closer, setting her hand on his chest, “How did you think I was going to kiss you?”
His breath stuttered as he opened his mouth to try to speak. His eyes flashed to her lips for a brief moment, “I just thought that you’d kiss me like you did the other day.” He swallowed hard, his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
“Would you like that?” She asked softly, inching herself even closer to him. The second she got closer, any intention to tease him slipped away. She could smell Aramis and aftershave on his skin. If he made a move on her, she was going to have an incredibly hard time pretending that she didn’t want it.
He swallowed hard as she got even closer to him. “I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t,” he admitted quietly.
“Oh, Mr. Sheffield!” She pulled her hand from his chest and set it against her own, feigning she was shocked by his admission. Before he could move or react, she shrugged, “Okay!” She grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him forward, kissing him intensely.
Admittedly, Maxwell had very little resolve when he came to her room in the first place, but now it was completely gone. The instant her lips pressed to his, he pounced on her.
Their tongues battled for dominance as he shifted on the bed. He set a hand against her waist and covered her body with his own, guiding her down towards the bed.
The instant Fran’s back hit the mattress, the sound of cardboard being crushed could be heard by both of them. Maxwell lifted his head first, though reluctant to break the kiss. He frowned down at her, “What was that?”
She winced slightly. Her poor pizza had just been crushed by both of them. Oh well, her thin crust would just be extra thin. Now she just needed to get out of this without him finding out she was hiding food in her bedroom: A rule he frequently enforced. No food in the bedrooms unless you were sick. She gazed up at him, “I didn’t hear anything.”
He scrunched his brows, “I distinctly heard the sound of a box being crushed as you laid down.” He sat up a little more, one of his knees falling between her thighs. “Do you have food in your bed?” As he asked, he lifted one of his hands, intent to reach behind her and feel for a box.
Before he could reach for anything, she quickly grabbed his wrist and pushed him off of her. In one swift move, she went with him and straddled his body. She pinned the wrist she was holding down against the mattress. She stared down at him, panting slightly from the effort, “I think you’re focusing on the wrong thing right now, Mr. Sheffield.”
He let out a low groan as she pinned him flat against the bed, straddling him. His wrist flexed a little beneath her hand. In the scuffle, her robe had come slightly undone, leaving him with an almost full view of her bare chest. Despite the fact that he really didn’t want to, he slowly dragged his eyes away from her chest and up to her face.
He lifted his free hand and wrapped it around the back of her head, quickly pulling her down to kiss him again. He pressed his lips hard against hers, kissing her like she was about to leave him forever. His tongue parted her lips with ease and he swirled it around with hers.
Fran finally settled herself against his lap, not surprised to find that he was already erect. What she was surprised by was how big he was. I mean, she’d seen him naked that one time in the shower, but naked in the shower wasn’t a good indication of true length.
She gasped softly as she pressed her knees into the mattress on either side of him. She kept her one hand wrapped around his wrist–it just seemed right–and let the other rest against the side of his neck as she kissed him.
Maxwell moved his free hand to rest low on her back, gripping her tight as they kissed. The sensation of her fully seated against his erection had his body vibrating. He resisted the urge to rock his hips up against hers; that would add a level of intimacy the rational side of his brain was screaming not to seek.
Fran pulled back after many, many minutes of kissing him. She smirked at him, knowing she’d given him the deep flush on his cheeks and the throbbing erection in his slacks. She licked her lips, “So… How do you feel about my kissing now?”
He panted heavily as he looked up at her. There was no way he could form a coherent thought right now, let alone a sentence. He simply nodded in response.
A breath of a laugh passed her lips as she leaned in and started peppering his neck with kisses. She murmured against his ear, “Is that what you were expecting?”
A hot flush ran through his body as her lips grazed his ear. It settled between his legs, adding stress to his already wavering restraint. He knew he should put a stop to this right now. But instead? “Better,” he let out on a heavy exhale. He groaned as her teeth sunk into the side of his neck. “Miss Fine,” he warned, “if you keep that up, I won’t be in control of my actions.”
She hummed as she traced her nose along the side of his neck, “If that’s supposed to get me to stop, then you’ll have to try harder than that.” She followed her statement with another nip of his flesh, directly beneath his jaw.
In that instant, the last of his rational mind flew out the door. He broke free of her grip on his wrist and flipped them so that she landed beneath him. He grabbed both her wrists in one of his hands and pinned them above her head.
She squealed, “Mr. Sheffield!”
He silenced her with a kiss, before dragging his lips down her cheek. He placed hot, open-mouthed kisses all over her neck. His free hand trailed down the space between their bodies until he found the tie to her robe. He pulled the tie loose and pushed the fluffy material open, leaving her in just the pair of panties she had on.
He lifted his head from where it currently resided–sucking a mark into the nape of her neck–and gazed at her glorious body. He let out a low groan as he took her in, “Oh, Miss Fine, you look absolutely divine.”
She arched into him as his thumb skated across her ribcage. She let out a breathy moan as the bad of his thumb grazed the underside of her breast. “Ya know, kissing isn’t the only thing I’m good at,” she said with a sultry lilt.
He stole a glance at her face before refocusing on her chest. He watched with intense fascination as his thumb grazed across her nipple, the pink bud pebbling easily under his touch. Barely registering her suggestion, he asked, “You’re sure you feel comfortable moving forward with this?”
She watched as his throat moved with a nervous swallow; she needed to get this back on track before he could think his way out of it. “Max,” she spoke softly at first.
His first name on her lips garnered his attention. His gaze snapped up instantly from her chest, “Yes?”
She licked her lips, “Look at how responsive I am to your touch. If I didn’t want this, I would just say so.” She laughed as she decided to reveal something to him, “I’ve dreamed about this moment with you a hundred times. Why would I turn you down now?”
This earned her a soft groan of approval. “You’ve dreamed about this?” He asked as he resumed circling her nipple.
She nodded, “Both asleep and awake. Your hands all over my body. Lips, tongue, and teeth in places they’ve never been before. Your long fingers drawing soft cries from my lips as they explore my most sensitive places.” She gasped as he pinched her nipple between thumb and forefinger, “Oh. That’s not even the best part.”
Maxwell dipped his head, pressing kisses to her clavicle. “What’s the best part?” His voice came out thicker, more strained as he pictured all the things she was saying. He wanted to do all of those things to her, wanted to hear the sounds of pleasure that only he could give her. He needed to hear what else she had to say, which was honestly a first for him.
Fran grinned at him, “Whenever I wake up from these dreams–or if I have thoughts while I’m awake–I’ll touch myself to them.” She watched as his eyes snapped up to where her hands were being restrained by him, then down the entire expanse of her body, landing on the only part of her currently being concealed by clothing. She could almost read exactly what he was thinking. She hummed, “Not with just my hands.”
His brain stalled as he thought about what she meant. He lifted his head and quickly glanced around her room, unsure of what exactly he was looking for. When he didn’t see anything he thought she could necessarily pleasure herself with, he looked back down at her, “What do you mean?” He pressed kisses against her chest in between glancing at her while he waited for a response.
She hummed, arching into him with each brush of his lips. It was almost maddening. He was taking his time, slowly exploring her body, inch by inch, but she was desperate for more. She nodded, “Most of the time I just use my hands. But sometimes, when I’m too pent up, I keep something else hidden away that I bring out when I really need it.”
He arched a brow at her then, “Where? We just went through every inch of your room to get rid of some things, and I never saw anything like that.” He chose that moment to release her wrists, almost like he wanted her to go and get the blasted thing.
She shook her head, “Between the children being in here, and Niles pretending to vacuum while he snoops, I keep it hidden away.” She glanced towards the closet, “You know the box I said was full of really important family photos and documents?”
She watched as he lifted his head and stared at the closet door. She could see the gears turning in his head as he thought about it. With her hands free, she decided it was time to even the score. She grabbed his tie and pulled it off, tossing the silky material to the side. Next came the gray vest.
By the time she’d undone most of the buttons on his shirt, Maxwell finally snapped out of the trance he’d been lost in. His gaze snapped down to where her hand was currently wandering the tufts of hair that littered his chest. He hummed, “Sorry, I’m back.”
Fran smirked up at him, “What were you thinking about?”
He groaned softly, “I was just picturing you using whatever you have in that box to pleasure yourself. To thoughts of me at that.” He leaned down and took one of her nipples into his mouth. He sucked lightly at first, swirling his tongue around the peaked bud. He released it with a pop, “How long have you been pleasuring yourself to me, Miss Fine?”
She moaned, pressing her chest upwards at the loss of contact, “Don’t you think you should call me Fran right now?” She ran her fingers through his thick hair with a laugh, “Stripping me bare and sucking on my chest constitutes a lack of formality, don’t you agree?”
He huffed against her skin, “Alright, Fran… How long have you been pleasing yourself to me?”
She grinned, enjoying the way her name sounded on his tongue. She paused for a moment, gazing longingly up at the ceiling, “Let me think…” She hummed, “I think since about the time I saw you in the shower.”
His brows went up, cheeks tinted pink with slight embarrassment, “Are you serious?” She started to giggle. He frowned slightly, “You’re messing with me?”
She nodded, “That’s not when they started, although that imagery certainly helped me imagine things a little better. I’m not sure exactly when it started, I just know they’ve gradually gotten more lewd as time has gone on.”
She tilted her head slightly at him, “I didn’t ask: Have you ever touched yourself to the thought of me?”
He grunted, his cheeks burning a bright red. He cleared his throat, “I’m not sure I should say.”
She smirked, “Avoiding my question is an admission of guilt.” She pouted slightly as she sat up, her hands continuing to undo the buttons on his shirt. Her hands stopped once they hit his belt. She looked up at him, “I told you all about how I do it, why won’t you share?”
“I’ve done it once or twice…” His voice came out much smaller than intended, especially as he looked down to where her fingertips were tucked into the waistband of his pants. He licked his lips as he continued, “B-but only after I’ve woken up from a dream. I’ve never sought out to think about you–at least not intentionally.”
Satisfied with his response, her hands continued their work. She unbuckled his belt and opened the smooth leather, undid the button on his slacks, and quickly pulled the rest of his shirt loose. Her fingers dragged over smooth skin as she slid her hands up his stomach and chest. When she reached his shoulders, she slipped her hands under his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. In the same movement, she pulled her robe the rest of the way off and tossed it to the side.
Maxwell quickly finished the work of taking his button up off. He set it with the rest of his belongings before he stood up and pushed his slacks the rest of the way down. A thrill ran through him as he watched Fran’s eyes follow his movements, settling on where his erection strained against black boxer-briefs. He hummed as he climbed back onto the bed, “Does my answer to your question satisfy you?” He inched closer to her, returning his lips to their previous position on her neck. He supported himself with one hand, his other was free to roam. He started with her chest again, palming each breast, before sliding his hand lower.
Despite the fact that he was kissing her in a sensitive spot, and his hand was inching incredibly slowly towards the area she wanted him to touch most, Fran couldn’t help but direct her attention towards his lower half. Her attention should have been on the large tent between his legs. Hell, she wished she could focus on that right now. However, her attention was drawn further south. She let out a soft whimper as his teeth grazed her earlobe. “Max?” She asked softly.
He lifted his head to look down at her, “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head, “The opposite, actually.” She pointed towards his legs, “Are you keeping your socks on for any particular reason?”
He followed her gaze, his brow furrowed, “Am I supposed to take them off? I usually keep them on.”
She couldn’t help but to start giggling, “You keep them on? What about when these come off?” Her finger rimmed the waistband of his boxer-briefs, “Would you keep them on then?”
He shrugged lightly, “Why not?”
She started to laugh harder, her body practically vibrating as she held the sound in, “That’s not sexy!”
“Oh it isn’t, hm? Well, how about this then?” He grabbed her and kissed her fiercely. He returned his hand to her chest, alternating pinching each nipple between thumb and forefinger until her head rolled back and a soft sigh fell from her lips. “That’s what I thought,” he said smugly. As he continued his onslaught on her chest, he subtly kicked his socks off.
Maxwell returned to his previous mission, before she’d distracted him. His hand slipped away from her chest and moved south. His fingers dragged slowly across each inch of her skin, as if he was committing the way she felt to memory. He nipped at her jaw as his fingertips brushed across the waistband of her panties, before carefully slipping inside.
Fran spread her legs as he delved his fingers deeper, parting her folds. He explored cautiously at first, just getting a feel for her. Once he was sure of himself, his middle finger slipped up through her folds until it found her clit. He circled the sensitive bud, adding pressure little by little until he found a spot she seemed to enjoy. Her body spasmed with the sudden contact. Her mouth fell open with a low moan, “Oh, Max.”
He groaned against her neck, “That’s it, Fran. Let me hear how good I make you feel.” He replaced his middle finger with his thumb. He dipped back down until he grazed her entrance. He circled it once before withdrawing his hand completely.
She let out a disappointed whine, lifting her head instantly to look at him. “What happened?” She panted softly, “Is this payback for saying your socks weren’t sexy?”
He snorted, “No, darling.” He sat up, grabbed hold of her panties by looping his finger through the crotch, and tugged them down. She kicked them the rest of the way off. With the material out of the way, he traced a line back up the inside of her thigh. He broke contact with her neck to look down and watch. “I’m just giving myself easier access,” he murmured against her ear when he finally leaned back in. He spread her thighs apart and situated his hand back against her, his palm pressing into her clit as he lined his middle finger back up. He circled her entrance once, then twice, before pressing it fully into her.
Her eyes fluttered closed, head falling back against the bed. She rocked her hips against his palm, adding to the already delicious tension she was feeling. One of her hands went down to grip his forearm, keeping it in place in case he decided to toy with her now.
He had no intention of going anywhere, not with the noises she was making for him now. He curved his finger into her, dragging it along her upper walls until he found what he was looking for. Once he found it, he quickly slipped his ring finger in. He could feel her start to pulse around his fingers with each pass over her g-spot.
Fran’s legs started to twitch in time with the thrusting of his fingers. That, combined with the friction of his palm against her clit, had her nearly seeing stars already. Her grip tightened on his wrist. A steady stream of moans and silent pleas fell from her lips. Her hips rocked helplessly against him as he drove her closer and closer to orgasm. “Don’t stop,” was the most she could manage, coming out in a strangled, barely audible tone.
He kissed the side of her face, “I’m not stopping anytime soon.” He pressed a kiss to the front of her ear before lifting his head to watch her. He groaned as he watched her body writhe beside his. His length twitched almost painfully at the sight of her. He rocked his hips forward, gratifying himself with a little friction from the bed. He was desperate for his own release, but he could tell he had her right on the cusp of an orgasm, and it wouldn’t be very kind of him not to take care of her first; especially when he had her this close. So, he shoved his own desperation aside for later, and focused all his attention on her.
She tried to keep herself quiet, she really did. But as he pressed her closer and closer to finishing, it became increasingly harder to keep it down. Euphoria built inside of her until she felt like breaking. Her breathing grew more ragged, every muscle in her body tightened. With a final cry of his name, she let go. Wave after wave crashed over her as she fell back against the bed.
Maxwell kept a steady rhythm as she came apart, though it was difficult given the way her walls fluttered around his fingers. When she finally started to calm down, he slowed and withdrew his fingers. He pressed kiss after kiss to her temple, her cheek, and finally her lips.
After several minutes of silence, filled with only her heavy breathing, she looked over at him. “Wow,” she managed after multiple attempts to speak.
He snorted a laugh, “That good?” He pressed a gentle kiss to her nose, his fingers splayed out across her stomach.
She let out a heavy breath, “Better than anything I’ve ever given myself.”
He knew he should just take the compliment and not press, but he needed to know, “What about with another partner?”
She hummed, body still buzzing, “I have nothing else to compare that to. Just myself.”
He squinted at her, “I’m not quite sure I understand what you mean. Haven’t you been with other people?” He thought back to a prior comment from her, “Didn’t you say Danny called you his Dirt Devil?”
She nodded, “Yes, of course he did. But he never reciprocated that sentiment.”
He frowned, “You mean to tell me that no one else has ever gotten you there?” Despite his confusion, some masculine pride started to bloom in his chest.
She shrugged lightly, “Max, why do you think I own a sex toy?” She followed his gaze as it shot back to the closet, “I’ve learned to just take care of myself.”
He huffed, “Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore. I don’t mean to sound vain, but my biggest flaw is that I’m too giving.”
Fran grinned up at him, “Then I guess I’m the luckiest woman in the world.” She smoothed a hand down his chest, “Maybe it’s time I return the favor?”
He arched a brow at her, “What exactly did you have in mind?”
She got up and slipped off the edge of the bed, “Why don’t I show you how I really earned my nickname?” He followed her, sitting at the edge of the bed. She knelt down onto the plush carpet between his legs. She smoothed her hands over the tops of his thighs. She teased him lightly through the thin fabric of his underwear.
Maxwell responded instantly, rocking his hips into her hand. “Don’t tease,” he begged lightly, “I’m not sure I could take it.”
She grabbed the waistband and tugged it down until she guided his length out of its cotton prison. It bounced upwards, standing fully erect against his abdomen. Her eyes widened slightly before she looked up at him, “It seems I’m in for a challenge.” She wrapped her hand around the base, giving him one fluid stroke until she reached the top. At the top, she ran her thumb over his tip, collecting some pre on her thumb. She held eye contact with him as she released him and brought her thumb to her mouth. She stuck her tongue out flat and languidly licked the pad of her thumb.
He let out an animalistic groan as he watched her. His hips bucked up against nothing. “Fran,” he gritted, “please.”
She moaned softly, “Sorry, I just needed to know how you taste first.” She sat up a little as she took him back into her hand. As she stroked him, she leaned forward and pressed kiss after kiss to his tip. She followed her lips with her tongue, pointing the tip and tracing circles around him until he was rocking up.
One of his hands laced through the hair at the back of her head. He didn’t push, just simply gripped the locks tightly between his fingers. His head tipped back as a low groan passed his lips. When she finally stopped her torture and took him into her mouth, he cursed and resisted the urge to buck up into her mouth.
She started to bob her head, slowly inching him into her mouth. Along with plenty of suction, she hummed to add vibration. Before she was even halfway, she could hear his breathing grow unsteady. She caught sight of him white-knuckling the sheets with one hand, the other gripping her hair almost painfully hard.
Maxwell honestly didn’t know how much of this he was going to be able to take. Her mouth felt like heaven wrapped around him; warm and wet, with the right amount of suction, and god her humming. His whole body was tense as he tried to just let her have control and take her time with him.
The noises he made only served to spur her on. Each grunt and groan sent a surge of need straight to her core. She started to squeeze her thighs together on the floor so that she could focus.
He was getting close, he could feel it. But he didn’t want to finish now, not like this. He wanted to give her just a little more before he was done with her. “Fran, wait,” he cupped her chin and slowly lifted her head up to look at him.
She tilted her head as she looked up at him, “Is something wrong, Max?”
He groaned as he hoisted her up, “God no. You felt amazing, darling. I just wanted more of you before I finished.” He let her straddle his legs for a moment before he stood, turned, and laid her down against the mattress. He buried his face back into her neck and nipped at sensitive flesh for a moment, buying himself some time while he calmed down.
She whined as she wrapped one leg around him to draw him closer. She raked her nails through his hair, then down his back, “I need more of you, please.”
He arched into her at the sharp strike of her nails across his skin. He groaned against her ear, “Well, darling… Who would I be to refuse such a fervent request?” He slid his hand down between them and took hold of his length. He swiped himself through her folds before notching himself at her entrance.
Fran let out a sharp gasp as the thick head of him pressed into her. She tangled her fingers into his hair, gripping tight, “Oh Max, you feel so good!”
He groaned as he slowly pressed into her, relishing in the way she felt. He pressed kiss after kiss to her neck and lower jaw, groaning each time he rocked his hips a little further forward. He gripped her hips tightly in his hands, an attempt to keep himself restrained so he could take his time with her. However, the way her walls clamped down around him with every thrust had his restraint ready to snap.
He let out a heavy breath as he finally buried himself to the hilt inside of her. He lifted his head to gaze down at her, “Let me know when you’re ready for me to move.”
Without missing a beat, she smirked up at him, “Move.”
He nearly growled out a response, “Atta girl.” His fingers dug harder into her hips as he started to thrust, surely she would have bruises by the morning. A private reminder of what they shared together. His rhythm started off slow at first, but as he lost himself in the feel of her, his rhythm grew faster and more ragged.
The room was filled with the sounds of ecstasy, both lost in just enjoying each other. Fran canted her hips, changing the angle of his thrusts so that he dragged over her most sensitive spots.
He could tell that he was getting close again, clearly having not bought himself enough time before. He certainly didn’t want to fall over the edge before he could get her there again. After she revealed that she’d never experienced an orgasm with another partner, he wasn’t about to leave her high and dry when it counted the most. He slipped his hand down and pressed the but of his palm onto her lower stomach, adding some pressure to where he rocked into her, his fingers dropped down to rub tight circles at her clit.
Sure, it was painful and caused his forearm to develop a cramp almost instantly, but it was highly effective. Her walls fluttered hard around the length of him, drawing him deeper in. “Max,” she moaned louder, “I’m so close again.”
He kissed down her chest, “That’s it, Fran. Go on and let go for me, I’m right behind you.” He circled his fingers faster, drawing louder cries from her lips. He should have silenced her, given that his family was home, but he didn’t care all that much at the moment.
Undeterred, her cries grew louder the closer she got. “Max… Max… Maxwell!” She tipped her head back, her body writing beneath his as she was thrown over the edge. “Oh, Mr. Sheffield!” She nearly screamed out as she rode out her high.
Maxwell was quick behind her, a loud growl passing his lips as he released inside of her. He kept up his rhythm as best he could as he fell apart, finally slowing when it seemed like both of them were finished. Not wanting to be apart from her yet, he remained where he was and pressed kiss after gentle kiss to her lips, relishing in the closeness of their bodies. Eventually, they pulled apart and moved up to cuddle against the head of her bed.
***
Fran lifted her head from Maxwell’s shoulder and looked up at him with a satisfied smirk, “How was that?” While she awaited his response, she reached under the covers beside her and located the flattened pizza box. She pulled out a cold slice and took a bite.
Maxwell huffed, “Better than I could have ever imagined.” He glanced down at her, then did a double-take as he spotted the slice of pizza. He scowled, “Miss Fine, I thought we talked about food in your room?”
She grinned as she pulled the box out from under the covers and held it out towards him, “I think you would feel better about it if you had a slice.”
Defeated, and admittedly a little hungry, he reached into the box and took a slice. He snorted as he took a bite, “We really flattened this bloody thing out, eh?”
She shrugged as she looked up at him, “Far as I can tell, it means fewer calories like this.”
He scowled at her, gears spinning as he tried to process that, “But it’s just flatter, not smaller. It’s still the same amount of calories.”
“The body doesn’t know,” she retorted as she took another bite.
He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, “At any rate, I hope I’ve made you feel better about the whole kissing contest debacle. I’d hate to think that a beautiful woman like you was still feeling down on herself.”
She hummed as she looked at him, “I’m not sure I’ll be feeling bad about myself anytime soon.” She nudged him, “So long as you continue to do all of that.”
He laughed, “Oh I plan to keep your spirits high for a long while.”
They got up a little while later and redressed, preparing to head downstairs for the dinner that would be ready soon. Maxwell motioned towards the door, “I’m going to just change quickly before we head down for dinner.”
As he stepped out into the hallway and headed towards his bedroom, he heard a familiar voice behind him, “Coming down to dinner, sir?”
Maxwell turned on his heel, Niles stood behind him. The butler’s eyes took in his clearly dishevelled state: Shirt and slacks wrinkled. He hadn’t bothered to put his vest back on. His tie was poorly tied and crooked, and his shirt was partially untucked. A hot flush spread across his cheeks, “Niles old boy!” He motioned over his shoulder, “I was just heading to my room to change and then I’ll be down for dinner.”
Niles cocked one brow at him, a knowing smirk spreading across his face as he glanced at Miss Fine’s bedroom door, “Worked yourself up an appetite, sir?”
Maxwell groaned as he turned on his heel again, “Something like that.”