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Max's thrusts meet my inward strokes, but he's still being careful not to go too deep. For a second, I wonder if he was gentle like this with other girls and somehow I know he wasn't. From what I've seen, his soft side is a temperament only reserved for me. He pants roughly, guiding me with his fist, down and out.
He takes control.
He begins to pump into my mouth faster, still seemingly concerned with not going too far, but he's slowly starting to get a little carried away.
I press my palms to his taut thighs, bracing myself. Focusing on breathing through my nose, I swallow around his erection, and he uses that moment to slide in further still.
"Fuck," he hisses. His pleasured groans spur me on, so I try to use my tongue to massage the underside of his penis in time with his rhythm. Then something shifts. His movements become more chaotic and relentless as pleasure takes hold. He's nearly there. I feel for his balls as they draw up. The muscles of his thighs twitch. His abdomen crunches. And now he's cradling my cheeks and really thrusting into my mouth. I blink up at him and he trains his dark eyes on me before closing them and dropping his head back. He shudders. Groaning and holding my mouth around his erection, he releases inside me in three powerful pulses. I keenly swallow what he gives me, feeling desire thrumming between my legs even though my mind won't allow for any kind of pleasure. I feel ripped apart. Between my body and my psyche.
He doesn't release me for several seconds. The throbbing of his erection slows in unison with his heavy breathing. When he finally pulls my head back, his penis slides out and hangs half-erect by his thigh. Slowly, I stand up. He reaches for my neck, envelopes it with his hand, and pulls me to his lips for a soft quick kiss.
A little light-headed, I try for a smile. "That was really deep."
His brows draw in. "Did I hurt you?"
He always asks me that. Shaking my head slowly, I say, "You never do."
Warmth moves through me when he pulls me into his chest and holds me there as if he loves me. As if he's fighting some kind of battle. As if he's afraid of something. But Max Butcher isn't afraid of anything.
And I don’tthinkhe loves me - I know he does.
As he strokes my hair, I rub my cheek against the shadowed wall of his hard chest.Ugh, I wish last night would disappear. Wish I wanted him to touch me the way he used to. Take me without asking. Worship my body.
I think I'm a little broken. A little lost.
More than anything, I want Max and Cassidy's world back.
Wrapping my arms around him, I squeeze tight. As if my tiny, little grip can possibly hold us together.
Max
I tapthe top of the Chrysler with my palm and then step back as Carter slowly cruises away with Cassidy in the back seat. She twists around, her golden eyes wide and fixed on me.
As I watch them exit the driveway and disappear out of sight, it takes every piece of restraint to stop myself from chasing after her.
Things are not right.
I jump into Romeo -fuck, the Rover, and drive off before I start to think too much. Think about her soft mouth stretched around my cock in the shower, taking me deeper than most girls can. Think about her teary eyed and swallowing around my thrusts.
I shouldn't have allowed it.
But I was a selfish bastard.
It's a ten-minute drive to Jimmy's, but it feels like a split second. His security waves me through the boom gate. Large hedges border the driveway like looming barricades, and atop every light-pole there are many sets of eyes watching my approach through cameras. We have good security at home, but nothing like what Jimmy has. It's a good thing he has it too. He's got enemies - more than he thinks, perhaps.
I park in my spot, beside Butch's car, and jump out. I take note that Bronson's bike is missing, but I don't need to speculate as to why. He doesn't have the levelheadedness for this side of the business.
As always, the front door opens for me before I can ring the bell. The young maid, who I'm sure gets down on her hands and knees and wears a collar for Jimmy, ushers me inside. His love of submission is well known.
I stride past her and head straight towards the boardroom, growing further agitated with every step.
We'd set this meeting a few days ago, but due to Cassidy's delicate condition, I cancelled. At that mere thought of her, heat rushes into my head.
As I approach the boardroom, Jimmy's thick Sicilian accent sounds through the door. "This is distasteful business."
My teeth mash together. Him speaking in English means he has Australian soldiers in there ready to intervene if things turn south.
"He threatened my family, Jimmy," Butch states, his tone harder than normal but not hard enough given the crux of the conversation.
