Page 56 of Maximus

After a second, her finger started to move and I wished the lights had been on so I could watch.

“Next time, we’re taking this slow.”

“Max.”

“Just like that, honey, harder.”

Wetness gushed and her pussy started to flutter.

“Christ, Eva,” I grunted. “Get there.”

“I’m there, Max.”

Yeah, she was, and she felt like a hot, sleek fist squeezing my cock.

Control gone, I let go and powered into her. Fast, hard, and rough, until all my restraint was gone and I spilled inside of her.

With my cock planted as deep as I could go, still wanting to get deeper, Eva’s hand trapped between us, her pussy convulsing around my shaft, my face buried in her neck, I couldn’t stop myself from sinking my teeth into the soft flesh between her shoulder and neck.

“Oh my God, Max,” she moaned, and sweet fuck, she wrapped all four limbs around and held on tight.

Eva’s lips pressed against my chest and she nuzzled closer. The gesture did all kinds of crazy shit to me—it muddled my head and made me want to keep her pinned under me for eternity. Where in the fuck did that come from? Her choppy breath fanned across my heated skin and pulled me back to reality. Begrudgingly, I lifted my weight off her and balanced on my elbow while brushing her soft brown strands away from her pretty face.

Unlike the first time she made no move to disengage, there was no shock or panic in her eyes, nothing but soft, hazy satisfaction. And I couldn’t stop the swell of pride—the knowledge that I’d put that look on her face. It hit me in all the places I normally kept locked down.

Maybe it wasn’t her pussy that was heaven, maybe it was just her—all of her. The way she said my name, the way she held me tight, the way she allowed herself to be open even when she thought it was embarrassing.

Her hands roamed my back and a smile played on her puffy pink lips when she asked, “Is your shoulder okay?”

“Yeah, honey, it’s fine.”

I rolled to the side, taking her with me and did something I’d never done—I pulled her close, not wanting her to run away. Not yet, not until I got my fill, not until I sated this crazy need to hold her.

Eva was unabashed in her examination. Her palm skimmed down my chest, and for the first time in years, I enjoyed the soft touch of a woman. This wasn’t about sex or passion, it was exploratory. Her hand made it down my stomach, pausing before her finger traced my scar.

Not even the goodness of her touch could erase the memories, and before she could continue, I grabbed her wrist, halting her progress. She lifted her head off my chest and in the dim light, I could read the question in her eyes.

“Just don’t.”

“Don’t what? Touch it or ask about it?”

“Both.”

Eva gave me a sad smile before she lowered her head back down and burrowed close.

“All right, Max, I won’t touch it.”

I released her wrist and she immediately moved her hand to safer territory—but the moment was broken. Eva was no longer relaxed.

“It’s just—”

“Shh, Max. I get it. We all have things we don’t want to talk about. You don’t need to explain.”

Jesus, she did get it—more than most, she understood that there were things that were better off left buried. And how that scar came to be was one of those things. The problem was, with Eva’s warm, soft body pressed against mine, I didn’t want secrets between us. I didn’t want to leave things buried. I wanted her to know why that scar was a visual reminder never to let my guard down. But if I told her that, I’d need to explain what happened to the person who’d tried her best to kill me.

And with all of those crazy thoughts swirling around in my head, and with Eva cuddled close, I realized I was a little more than over my head.

Chapter 17