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MAX
I SHOULD STOP HER.
Ishould tell her no.
God help me, I can’t.
Her lips brushing over mine is the lightest of touches, barely a kiss, but it feels like everything to me. Her hands are pressed against my chest the way I’ve dreamed what feels like a hundred times or more, her fingers lightly curling against my skin, the kiss hesitant but full of so much need that it takes my breath away, tearing through me with a flare of desire that I’m powerless to stop.
Ten years of self-denial erupts in me, ten years of never having had this, a year of wanting it for the first time in my life. My cock is hard in an instant, straining behind my fly, and I can’t keep my hands off of her. I know I should, but it’s an impossibility now, as if her touch set off a chain reaction that will only end in an explosion of need.
My hands reach for her waist, tightening, pulling her closer. She lets out a small, needy moan that jolts straight to my cock, her lips still barely touching mine, as if she’s afraid to hurt me.
I’ve already forgotten that my lip is swollen and a little bloody and that the kiss should hurt. All I can think about is how good she feels, her slender body arching against me as her hands curl into my shirt, pulling me closer, letting me know that she wants this as desperately as I do. Without stopping to think, I lift her up, setting her on the edge of the counter as I step between her open legs, as naturally as if I’ve done this before a hundred times. In a way, I have–every time I’ve dreamed about her. I’ve dreamed about taking her like this, sitting on a countertop or bent over one, on the bed, a floor, a couch, on top of me and underneath me and with me behind her, every way that my sleeping mind can think of a way to make the only woman I’ve ever wanted mine entirely.
Her legs wrap around my hips instantly, pulling me in, and I groan against her lips as my hand slides into her hair. She lets out another of those small moans as my fingers tangle in it, wrapping her silky strands around them, pulling her mouth harder against mine as I deepen the kiss.
“Max!” She gasps against my lips, and I stiffen. “Your mouth–”
“I don’t care.” I half-growl the words, my other hand on her hip, pulling her against me as my tongue sweeps over her lower lip, and her mouth opens for mine. It feels natural, seamless, as if the two of us know instinctively what the other wants despite how new it is for us both, and nothing in the world could have convinced me that I shouldn’t stop more than that.
Sasha tastes as sweet as I could have imagined. I hadn’t thought I could get any harder, but the small gasp that she makes as my tongue slides into her mouth tells her how wrong I am. My cock is aching, feeling as if it might burst out of my pants with how hard I am, but I ignore it. I have no intentions of going further than this–of breaking my vow completely–but for now, I can’t stop kissing her.
“Max–” She whispers my name against my lips as her hand comes up to tangle in my hair, running through it asshedeepens the kiss this time, tangling her tongue with mine. Every time her lips press harder or her nose bumps against mine, a jolt of pain goes through me, but I hardly notice it. The entire house could be coming down around us, and I still probably wouldn’t notice.
My entire world, for this moment, is her.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, her hand roving through my hair, stroking along my face, stubble catching on her soft palm as we keep kissing, hot and gasping, making out like teenagers. At some point, I’m gripping her hips in both of my hands, both out of a fevered desire to feel the curves of her in my hands and, at the same time to keep her from pulling me closer with her thighs and grinding against my cock. I’m not sure I’d last if she did that, and I don’t want to ruin this. More than anything, I don’t want it to end. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced, and part of me feels that I wouldn’t care if we never did more than this, if I could just keep on kissing Sasha forever.
Her hands are on my chest again, and for a moment, I don’t register that one is moving lower, her fingers brushing over the ridges of my abs and down past my belt, until for the first time, a hand other than mine presses against my cock, only fabric between my flesh and hers.
“Oh god,” Sasha moans against my lips, her legs tightening around me, trying to pull me closer. “You’re so hard–”
I almost laugh. I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my fucking life, and my traitorous hips thrust against her palm, my cock wanting nothing more than to be free and in her hand. But with every last shred of self-control I possess, I pull myself away from her, gasping as I extricate myself from her legs and try to catch my breath.
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head, seeing the stricken expression on Sasha’s face and reading it as the expression of someone I’ve taken advantage of.I should have pushed her away from the start. I shouldn’t have let it go so far–
Sasha bites her lower lip, and I swear I see tears welling in her eyes, although she blinks them back quickly. “I don’t understand,” she whispers. “What are you sorry for?”
I grit my teeth, trying to think past the haze of lust.How does anyone get anything done feeling like this?I can’t think, can’t process the right words to say. All I feel is the driving, primal need to close the space between us, to tear away whatever clothes separate us and thrust myself into hot, tight, wet warmth for the first time, to make hermine.
That’s what I’d felt in the alleyway when I’d fought the man who dared put his hands on her. Not just that Sasha was in need of protection, but that she’smine.
But she’s not–not really. And she never can be.
“I shouldn’t have let that happen.” I shake my head, seeing the wounded look on her face. “You were at the docks to try to heal from what happened to you, right? To go back and relive it, try to come to terms with it–and I offered to walk you home, and this happens.” I gesture at the countertop with thinly veiled disgust in myself. “I treat you like this–like you’re mine to lust after. The way I touched you, it’s inexcusable–”
Sasha’s mouth drops open. “Max.” She shakes her head, jumping down from the countertop and closing the space between us again, her hand gently reaching out to touch my chest, as if she’s trying to soothe a wild animal. “You’re reading this all wrong–”
“Is that not why you were there?”
“It was, but–”
I let out a ragged breath. “You’re not mine to touch like this, Sasha, to–”
“What if I want to be?” There’s a defiant gleam in her eyes as she looks at me.
“You shouldn’t be.Weshouldn’t–”
