Fear and excitement rattled my spine.
He snaked down my body so he knelt between my thighs, pushing them apart. Bending my knees, feet flat on the bed, I closed my eyes and braced for an unfamiliar intrusion, but he took my cock into his mouth instead. I groaned as his tongue swept over my crown, my body eager and trembling. His mouth was hot and wet and tight and fuck, he took me so deep. At the same time, he slipped his lube-slick fingers between my legs, massaging and circling and teasing and oh fuck—
“Maxim.” A warning.
He released my cock from his lips and licked a line up my abdomen. “Shhh. Trust me.”
I did trust him. But a few minutes later, as he eased one warm, slick finger—and then another—inside me, I wondered if I’d overestimated both my tolerance for discomfort and my ability to handle the psychological difficulty of letting another man breach my body this way. My mind kept trying to run away from it, telling me I wasn’t like that.
I was. I was like that. And I wanted it, but Christ. Christ.
The feeling was strange to me. Foreign. Tight. I willed my body to yield, but my brain was getting mixed signals. One moment, my ass was involuntarily contracting around his fingers, pulling them in like I wanted more, and the next I was terrified I was going to embarrass myself because I felt like I had to pee.
Alarms began to sound.
I don’t have control of my body.
I started to panic, my hands fisting in the sheets, my legs shaking.
“Breathe,” he whispered, his lips hovering over mine. “Slow and deep.”
I inhaled and exhaled, consciously trying to relax all of my muscles. Eventually, I felt the tension start to give. The burn start to fade. Pleasure start to murmur deep within.
My hips began to move.
“That’s it, baby.”
Fuck. I love when he says that to me.
He kissed his way down my chest, and it was while his tongue was stroking my nipple that something he was doing with his fingers made my entire body start to tingle. A moan escaped me as the sensation slowly but surely intensified. I wanted more, but I couldn’t speak.
He added a third finger.
Something is happening to me.
It felt like an orgasm building, but its point of origin wasn’t my cock. He wasn’t even touching me there. It was deeper, slower, a gradual tightening inside me that sent electric pulses shooting through my entire body, as if my circuitry was being rewired, my body transformed for him.
He took his fingers from me, and immediately I wanted them back. I watched as he put on a condom and covered himself in lube. He’d never looked so beautiful or so fearsome to me. I’d never felt so powerless and vulnerable. My insides quaked as he hooked his arms beneath my thighs and pulled me closer. Pushed my legs farther apart. Positioned the head of his cock.
His eyes closed as he slid inside me in a long, slow, exquisite plunge. I breathed through the stretch and burn of it, glad for the way it hurt, for the way his body would change mine.
When he was buried deep inside me, he tipped forward, bracing his elbows above my shoulders, forcing my knees closer to my chest. He opened his eyes, and I put my hands at the back of his neck.
For a moment, we were still. Our eyes locked. I couldn’t breathe. He was everywhere inside me—everywhere. My mind, my heart, my body, my soul. I gave everything over to him. I was his, exactly the way I’d wanted to be, and it was perfect.
He put his lips on mine as he began to move, his body undulating over mine in sinuous waves. I loved the solidity of his body, his weight, the press of his chest. I loved the stroke of his cock against that place inside me, the one that made my entire body come alive. I loved the abandonment of everything but him—of right and wrong, of good and evil, of rules and religion.
Nothing mattered but us. No one existed but us. Time itself was irrelevant.
Maxim’s breathing grew labored, and he buried his face in my neck as he drove into me, as if he had to get closer to me any way he could. It felt so good, to be wanted that way, without pretense or inhibition or shame, and I slipped my arms around his back, holding him tight. All I could think was stay with me, stay with me, stay with me.
A moment later he sat up and leaned back on his heels, grabbing my thighs to pull me onto his legs. Fuck yes—the angle was unbelievable, and I felt that intense internal pull almost immediately. With my feet flat on the bed, I lifted my hips, and he slid his hands beneath my ass, grabbed on, and fucked me hard and fast and deep. My dick was thrusting through my own fist before I even realized I’d wrapped my fingers around it. I was so close to orgasm, so close, so close, so close, the pressure inside me building and building, intense heat radiating throughout my entire lower body, my ass my thighs my back my stomach, everything tighter hotter yes more oh my God until I exploded all over my chest and heard Maxim yell fuck! and he was throbbing inside me, my ass clenching hard around his cock in what was the longest, most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced. I couldn’t stop coming. My hair stood on end. My skin was on fire. My body convulsed. If it hadn’t felt so good, I might have thought I was in some sort of physical distress. Cardiac arrest. A stroke. Electrocution.
When I came out of it, I looked up at Maxim in disbelief. He was sweaty and disheveled and so fucking beautiful, it hurt. For one insane second, I was actually afraid I might cry.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Would I ever be okay again? “No.”
Confusion and concern rippled across his face. “No?”
“Is there a hole in the ceiling? Because I think I’ve been struck by lightning.”
He laughed. “I know the feeling.”
“My legs. I can’t feel them.”
“Wait till you try to walk.”
I groaned. “I have to get up?”
“No. Just a minute.” He carefully disengaged his body from mine and went into the bathroom. A moment later he was back with a wet washcloth. I went to take it from him, but he shook his head. “Let me.”
I watched his face as he cleaned up my chest, and the tender look on his face nearly broke me. This. This is what I want. I can’t lose him.
But what could I do? There were no good options, and time was running out. This trip hadn’t done what I was hoping it would—in fact, I wanted him more now than ever before. How was that even possible?
He went back into the bathroom, and I closed my eyes.
Punishment. This is punishment for what you’ve done, and the only thing to do is suffer through it.
Thirty-Two
MAXIM
When I came out of the bathroom, Derek was already asleep, facing away from me on his side. Poor guy. I’d worn him out. He was going to be pretty sore tomorrow. Hopefully, he’d think it was worth it.