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Somewhere in the back of his half-dazed mind, he knew he should be irritated at the man and the fact that he was being such an ass. Black-balling conversation. Refusing even eye contact. But as Sean melted atop Max’s leather-clad lap, he couldn’t feel anything but contentment.
For one, the ride he’d just been on was incredible. Max had mixed the pain and pleasure exquisitely. Each time the sting on Sean’s ass reached its limits, Max was there before Sean could ever gasp out yellow. Switching it up, pulling Sean’s focus to his junk, skillfully taking him to his limits there, too. From one extreme to the other, with no fucking breathers. Because while the respite from Max’s paddle might look like a break, it was really just another kind of blitz. Bombarding his body with rapture instead of pain, slamming his maelstrom of adrenaline with raging endorphins.
In less than ten minutes, Sean went from wincing and hissing, to surfing a high of monumental proportions. A high that just kept going, until sometime later when a flag started waving in his mind. Garnering just enough of his attention to make it known that Max wasn’t going to fuck him. That he was bringing Sean to fruition but wasn’t trying to enter him. Was propelling Sean over the edge by himself. Max wasn’t going with him. He was staying behind. A realization that, at first, had knifed Sean in the chest, until the gale of his descending orgasm swept him away.
After that, all he remembered was white-hot ecstasy nailing him in the junk, then exploding.
Another full-frame aftershock rolled through his body. Max’s deft hands moved calmingly over his back. Which just so happened to be one of the other reasons Sean couldn’t find it in himself to be mad. After what he pulled on Thursday, that ended in disarray, he was lucky to even be with Max tonight. Max had threatened to kick him to the curb for way less. But he hadn’t. Had welcomed Sean into his home tonight, then proceeded to take him to paradise. Which, in truth, was exactly what Max was to Sean.
His mysteriously-beautiful dark paradise.
Even now, as Sean laid on his lap, limp and sated, Max continued to tend to his body. Kneading every muscle in his back and shoulders, albeit keeping all contact outside of his shirt. And then Sean felt it, the tug of a zipper as Max re-opened things on the backside of his bodysuit. Cool air kissed his tender cheeks, then a cool, soothing balm met his flesh. He moaned, eyes closing in glorious awe at the way Max just snuffed out all pain. The burn was nearly gone, only Max’s hands remained, steadily working their magic.
Seriously, how could Sean be mad at this man? It wasn’t like he’d really done anything wrong. Sure, Max was clearly trying to dodge conversation, but in fairness, he had seemed really shook up on Thursday, so if he wasn’t ready to talk, Sean would respect that.
For now.
In the meantime, he would keep things easy and light. Not because he was giving up, or even giving in. Because he wasn’t. Not in the slightest. Was simply stepping back to regroup a bit. To rethink his strategy on how to engage. Max was proving more complex than he had ever imagined, and he definitely didn’t want to set him off again. Trigger something unintentionally that’d make Max lose it. That’d be counterproductive, and Sean was all about forward progress. So for the time being, yeah, it’d be wiser not to pressure Max. Not prod the man in any shape or form. Just quietly remind him whenever they were together why the two of them made such an awesome pair—And that Thursday night was nothing but a glitch.
Max re-zipped Sean’s getup a moment later. Sean moved to roll over, but Max stopped him.
“No. Stay like this,” he murmured. He slid his fingers into Sean’s hair.
Sean sighed but didn’t argue. Just tried to smile. “A whole hour of my backside and you still want more. I think my ass will take that as a compliment.”
Max didn’t reply, just grazed Sean’s scalp with his nails.
Sean shivered. That felt heavenly. Max moved his fingers to trace Sean’s ear. Gently, peacefully, along its outer shell. Sean’s heart pounded in relief, finally knowing for sure; Max wasn’t mad at him. It was clear in his touch. In the way he spoke so softly, so tender. Which meant he didn’t blame Sean for Thursday’s visit, or even his strange post-fuck freak out. A definite plus for Sean—he was officially out of the woods. And yet where Max was concerned, the implications were far from positive. Because clearly he was owning the problem as his, like some fundamental flaw in his coding. Aka more proof of what Sean had begun to suspect. Max wasn’t just “not interested” in romantic relationships. He was genuinely and profoundly disturbed by them. Meaning, this wasn’t actually good for Sean at all.
