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Our lips ground together, neither of us willing to lift our head. We kissed like starved men, refusing to pause, refusing to breathe… the desperation between us tangible and intense.
Everything I’d ever known tilted. Nothing would ever be the same. My shaking hands whispered up his neck, reaching into the long, inky strands to anchor there, to pull him closer. Kissing Max was like existing in the unique place between sleep and wakefulness where you floated on the edge of consciousness, too relaxed to be fully alert but awake enough to be aware.
His throat vibrated with low growls, which added texture to the already incredible kiss. My heart soared when one hand fixed itself against my jaw, pressing his thumb into the joint to keep me open so he could have his fill. No one had ever kissed me like this. No one had ever reached down into my fucking soul to milk every response he could. He was greedy. Kissed jealously as though he had something to prove like he would devour it all before anyone else could have some. I’d let this man drain me before I pulled away, offering up everything he wanted, trying to give more than I had.
The realization made me groan, and he latched on to my lower lip and sucked, pulling it into his mouth completely and making my eyes roll back in my head.
I did my best to match his intensity, but I mostly clung to him helplessly, a whimpering and moaning mess while my tongue followed his lead.
The sounds of our breath, lapping tongues, and smacking lips were sinful, sending tingles racing across my scalp. My palm found his scruffy jaw and rubbed, softly abrasive texture making me purr in absolute delight. Our lips unlatched with a pop, and he drew back just enough for me to look into his heavy-lidded stare.
I moved to rub over his stubble again, but he dropped his forehead against the wall. His words brushed against my neck when he spoke. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
My heart splintered.
“I just… You could havedied.And I never would have—” His voice cracked, and he stopped to drag in a shuddering breath.
My pain fell away because his consumed me.
“Max,” I whispered, reaching for him again.
He pulled me off his body, stepping away. I reached for him again, twisting my fists into the front of his shirt.
Don’t you leave. Don’t you dare leave.
Warm hands covered mine, holding for long moments before gently peeling them away.
He didn’t let go until he was sure the wall had all my weight. When he turned his head, the loss of his attention rolled over me like the worst kind of loneliness.
“This can never happen again.” He retreated from the room, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
Closing me inside the room where all the feelings we harbored erupted, where the galaxy he made glowed overhead.
My body melted down the wall until my ass hit the floor, hunching in as if to protect what was left of me. And that was where I stayed with him still lingering on my lips, heart asking when he would return. Wishing he would. Knowing he wouldn’t.
12
Max
Years of resolve.
Steadfast endurance honed over an entire lifetime.
Deathbed promises. Sacrifice and pain.
One moment of weakness.
One moment to shatter literally everything I’d fought so hard for.
So you tell me: How will I live without him now that I know just how unequivocally essential he is to my soul?
I won’t.
That single moment of sweet surrender sentenced me to a lifetime of mere survival, unable to live without all of him but refusing to die because death would mean leaving his side.
13
Wes
