The Billionaire Playboy's Regret (Lark and Max)

Lark closed her eyes as she leaned back against the porcelain of the tub and willed herself to forget the actual physical being sitting next to her, on the toilet of all places. She couldn't believe she was agreeing to this playful experiment with Max.

It was because it was Max though. She wasn't kidding herself. If any other human being on the planet suggested such a thing, even a past lover, she would have booted them from her bathroom and yelled at them for being so rude. Yet, the minute he'd plopped down on the closed lid opposite her, reservations about being naked in the room with him were gone, along with all sense of decorum and proprietary. Maybe it

t was because from the time she was born until they were almost in puberty, she, Max, and Ollie did everything together from bathing, going camping as kids and swimming naked in the lake or running through sprinklers in the back yard in their underwear but nudity around Max didn't seem to be an issue for her. His nudity around her now however was definitely an issue. She was still stuck on the images of him all week walking around his condo wearing nothing more than those black boxer briefs which hugged his body showcasing his much larger than she remembered him being even in his speedos body. Her normal go-to fantasy usually included a hot sexy man in a three-piece suit, usually non-descript facially who would fearlessly confront her in a bar and with nothing more than a few hot words in her ears, take her to a dark corner and touch her intimately making her come in the crowded place.

Tonight however, with Max seated opposite her, she let her mind run with the thought it was Max in the bar.

She could see him in her imagination dressed the way he was two weeks back when she first noticed him standing up in the VIP area looking down at her and Ollie dancing. His shirt so tight over his perfectly sculpted pecs his n*****s poked through. His hands jammed in his trousers, tugging his zipper tight against his c**k. Deep brown eyes laser focused on her as she shimmied and danced holding his gaze. She was shooting him glances far different than the real ones she sent. This time her eyes begged him to approach her.

She could smell the scent of his cologne as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, dancing close, his large hands tight on her hips, his c**k grinding against her ass.

"Chère," she could hear him in her ear as surely as if he spoke, but she knew the man in the room was silent. Her imagination was fiery as his lips trailed over her body. The club packed with people dancing all round them, yet it felt it was only them.

Her fingers traced over her breasts as she imagined him behind her, stroking her daringly, uncaring of the large crowd. Her fingers were his, tracing and pinching her n*****s. Her skin buzzed as she let herself get lost in the dream of dancing provocative with Max. In her mind she could feel the hard firm frame of him holding her against his body while they danced. The bath hugging her body doubling for the man she wanted to be truly gripping her.

She let one hand slide down her belly while her other hand continued to massage and caress her breasts. Goosebumps rising over her skin while her fingers tickled along her navel, she let her head fall back further.

Knees falling outward, resting against the sides of the tub as the warm water sluiced over her skin. Her imagination was flying high now as she touched herself intimately. Her finger slowly slipping between her folds, drawing the heat of the water to mix with the dampness seeping from her body. Dipping between her legs she slowly circled her clit, breathing sharply through her nose.

Stroking herself she let visualized the man brashly cupping her mound and whispering sexy words in her ear. Every fantasy she ever created for herself she enjoyed a filthy tongued man, and this one was no exception.

"Do you like me touching you, chère? Let me lift your skirt and f**k you right here. Nobody will see if I slide right into you right here, right now. It's dark in here and everyone is in their own little worlds. I want to fill you to the brim. Let me make you come while everyone surrounds us."

Her fingers picked up tempo as she touched herself. The familiar electrical hum along her pelvis fueled her further as she pressed her sensitive button circling it. She was drenched now, nothing to do with the water in the tub and her legs jolted as the current of pleasure began pulsing. Lost in the reverie of being naughty and depraved with Max Villeneuve, she could almost feel the shaft she'd been imaging for so long pressed on her backside while she toyed with her nub.

Quicker and more desperate she chased the high of her bliss. Nothing else mattered to her in this moment but finding her release. She writhed against her hand, hungrily groping, and squeezing her body. She was lost in it. Forgetting everything and everyone and even the purpose of the activity, she was deep in her psyche now, reveling in the fragmented utopia she was creating.

The fragrant scent, the heat of the water, the rigid tub snuggly holding her captive while hands firmly pushed her up, up, up until she hit her peak. Then she was tumbling over, her breath held high in her chest for a millisecond before it rolled past her lips. Her legs shuddered and her lungs heaved as she arched her back high off the tub. Her hands falling off her body to float in the water, she fell back to earth. She opened her eyes slowly and turned her head as the very real truth of what she did with the man in the room observing made her strangely shy. As she looked to her side, nervously wanting to see what his reaction was, she was in awe of the sight in front of her.

Whilst she touched herself, Max undid his fly and was looking directly at her. Their eyes met as he boldly and resolutely jerked himself off.

"You are so f*****g beautiful," he croaked the words. "I couldn't help myself."

"Don't stop," she whispered as she rolled to her side in the tub to watch him. She had never seen a man do this before. If Doug ever jerked off, he did it in private without her knowing. This was sexy as hell. She knelt in the tub, this time letting the scene before her guide her hands. Her breasts exposed to him, she curiously watched the way his hand tightened and loosened as it rose and fell on his thickness. Up and down, rhythmically coaxing her to return her hands back between her thighs. The more she touched herself, the faster his own strokes became. She didn't know how long they watched one another, eyes fixed on their exposed parts.

Her mouth dropped open, her tongue licking her now dry lips, wishing she could replace his hand with her tongue, but she knew she shouldn't. Should she?

She already came once and coming a second time was easy, especially with the scene unfolding in front her. When his come shot in thick strings over his bare abdomen, narrowly missing the t-shirt he'd hiked up, she gasped. She let her head fall back as her entire body quaked with pleasure.

"Max," she moaned his name.

Then he was on his knees in front of her, his hands in her hair as he pulled her forward over the tub, his lips sealing over hers.

Demanding and passionate he slipped is tongue between her lips and kissed her. The cold edge of the tub between them, water sloshing over the side as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He lifted her out of the tub and carried her to the bed, laying her soaking body on the duvet, never breaking the kiss. His c**k still rigid lay flat against her belly and she ground her hips upwards wishing she could have more.

"Max, please," she whimpered needily as his lips moved to string a path along her neck. She tugged excitedly at his t-shirt wanting to rip it off him and annoyed he was fully clothed despite the fact his trousers were opened. "I need more."

"We can't," he groaned frustratedly, stopping and resting his forehead against her collar. His breathing was ragged and raspy, his voice full of remorse as he whispered, "its not time yet, Lark."

"Says who?" she cried kicking her foot with irritation. "I'm a groan ass woman. I know what I want."

"I know baby, but I don't want you to regret it tomorrow. Please." He rolled off the bed in one movement. "I shouldn't have suggested this."

"Coward."

He turned to look at surprised by her angry outburst. "What?"

"You were the one who suggested this experiment. You should have guessed this could have been a

potential outcome of your experiment and yet when it happened you run away like a chicken shit." "Lark, I'm trying to protect you."

"I don't need protection. I need dick."

At her blunt words he pulled his head back in surprise. "Chère, you don't know what you're asking." "You haven't spent much time with me in twelve years. Who are you to judge what I need as a grown woman."

"Are we fighting?" he asked in confusion. "I don't want to fight."

"Me either."

"I should go," he appeared truly perplexed.

"Or" she leaned up on her elbows and held his gaze boldly, "you could get undressed and come finish what you started.'

They were in a wordless standoff and then she gave an impatient snort and did as he had done and rolled off the bed but instead of standing stoically by the bedside, she stomped off to the shower and turned on the water. She needed a cold rinse to remove the soap suds, the memories, and the flush from her skin. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she found herself wondering whether it was Max trying to protect her or whether he wasn't really sure what he wanted. Her palm slapped against the tile of the shower stall with the humiliation of a rejection swarming her.

Then warms arms wrapped around her in the shower and Max's voice hot in her ear.

"I'm sorry, my love."