Page 43 of Maximus

“That’s it, honey, ride me.” His mouth moved to my other nipple and repeated the same lick and nip before he kissed the sting away and continued. “Harder, Eva.”

I was beyond insecurities and mid-sex chats, my mind was back to muddled and I was chasing a momentous orgasm that had come roaring back and hovered just out of reach.

“Goddamn, you feel good,” Max grunted and bit the side of my breast.

Pain exploded right before it turned into blinding pleasure and my orgasm snapped free.

“Jesus fuck,” Max groaned, his cock swelling, his hold on my hips tightened, and he bucked up and rocked me faster. Which was a damn good thing because I couldn’t move, blessed ecstasy had consumed every cell in my body, leaving me able to do nothing but feel my pussy contract and my skin burn.

My nails dug into Max’s shoulders, my orgasm showing no signs of stopping, everything inside of me trembling, heating, shattering.

“Fuck, Eva, fuck.”

Then he yanked me off his cock and wet, hot come erupted, splashing onto his stomach. Jesus, that would’ve been super fucking hot to watch if I’d been able to focus. Max crushed my body to his, and I felt the stickiness between us and his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Sex with Max had been the best I’d ever had, even with the stop-and-chat in the middle. Him holding me tight, even better.

I searched, but in that moment, there was no loneliness to be found. And for one small flash of time, I wasn’t nothing. I was filled with happiness.

But the moment would be fleeting. Because I was Eva Dawson and he was Max Brown and I had no business feeling anything for a man who wanted nothing to do with me.

Fucking hell, what had I done?

And I knew that minuscule seed of contentment was over when Max’s gruff voice hit my ears.

“I didn’t use a condom.” My insides seized at his cold, dead tone.

Well, fuck me running. So stupid.

“We’re safe. I mean, I’m on birth control so that’s covered. And I’m clean.”

“You okay?” he asked, not offering me his health status, which, if I hadn’t been so damn embarrassed, I would’ve asked for.

“Yeah, sorry. I should get up.”

At this juncture, it should be noted Max didn’t try to stop me. His hands simply fell away and his body under mine remained still.

Yeah, I’d messed up bad. Now I had to climb off Max naked and do the walk of shame. Thankfully, that walk would be short, but no less shameful.

With all the grace and poise I possessed—which incidentally, I lacked both, therefore I was clumsy in this endeavor—I rolled off Max. I hit the mattress and rolled again, this time in an attempt to pull the covers over me, which was futile considering Max’s big body was laying on top of them.

Whatever. It seemed I would be collecting my clothes off the floor in the nude. It wasn’t like Max hadn’t seen the goods up close and personal, but now that I wasn’t in the throes of passion, I was all kinds of mortified.

I made it around the bed and started gathering up my clothes, finding my t-shirt and putting it on sans panties. Same with my jeans when I found those. Dressed, I allowed myself to glance over at the bed. Max still reclined against the headboard, legs stretched out, his thick, heavy dick resting on his stomach, and even semi-soft, it was still damn impressive.

Of course he’d be unabashed in his state of undress—he looked like a freaking god lounging on a throne of crumpled bedsheets.

“You good, babe?”

Shame—burning shame—washed over me.

“Yeah. You?” I plastered a fake smile on my face and his eyes narrowed, wordlessly calling me out on my lie.

No, I was not good. Nothing was good. I had to be the dumbest broad on the face of the planet.

“Right,” he mumbled. “I’m gonna hit the shower.”

Of course he was. The faster he washed me off his skin, the better.

“I’ll let you get to it. Goodnight.”