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Max sighs, bringing his hands around my waist, affectionately running his nose against my ear. I shiver and feel insanely warm at the same time. “I don’t think he meant that.”
“Am I too much? Should I change?” I ask. I’m not sure that I would, but Ben’s comments have made me question everything. And in all honesty, I questioned everything about my appearance since that night in October.Were the shorts too short? Were my heels too high? Should I have not looked my absolute best for my boyfriend? For me?
“No. I’ve met a lot of very beautiful women and none of them have your allure. None of them have held any power over me the way you do.”
Standing at eye level, looking into Max’s eyes requires no effort at all when we’re this close. He pulls me against him, my pebbled breasts pushing into his black shirt and the hard press of his chest underneath. I feel his cock prodding against me and watch with anticipation as his eyes track across my face.
“That’s a lovely compliment, but do you only like me because of how I look?”
“Of course I want you for how you look. Did you look in the mirror tonight?” His amused tone of voice and irresistible smile has me chuckling. “You’re beautiful, but I’ve never thought you merely that,” he says softly. “And anyway, in these hot pants,” he continues, his tone turning dark and playful, “it’s clear you have a great body, seventy percent of it made up by your legs. And I cannot wait to throw them over my shoulders as I sink inside you. To feel them wrapped around my head as I eat your pussy until you beg me to stop.”
Oh God, I can’t breathe. Desire consumes me, my core tingling at his direct words. And perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised by his intentions about where we’re heading, disregarding any considerations about being slow or careful. Maybe they were said for show, to demonstrate he could be patient if I needed it. But I’d urged him on, not wanting to repeat the gentle approach.
I want the adrenaline, the heat and the excitement. And Max wants to deliver it all. He’s much more than I first thought, a man who owns his place in the world, who goes after what he wants. He might be the exact type of predatory man Ben just described, wanting the elusive, the rare and untouchable, but I don’t have a problem with this pace.
His lips raze over mine with soft dexterity and gentle fervour, a slow introduction. Then he kisses me like he did last night, full-on and ravaging. It’s a struggle to remain on my feet, even though I cling to him, my arms wrapped around his neck and broad, welcoming shoulders. Once again I am swept away to a place that fills me with mounting desire, that promises a world of things I didn’t know I could have again.
In the small space between our bodies, I feel him, a long, hard bar of steel pressing into my lower stomach. Thrills rush through me, nervous ones and excited ones because he isstrappingall over. Combined with the divine, male fragrance that infuses my lungs, my body is sent into a frenzy of delicious trembles. Reaching for my thigh, he lifts my leg, holding my knee to his hip as he grinds his cock into me. And I’m so wet. Good Lord, my thong isdrenched.
He trails kisses to my neck, latching onto my skin with shiver-inducing sucks and nibbles. I arch my throat, lost to the delirious insanity as beams of light sweep over our tangled bodies. His touch is a beautiful distraction from a few moments ago, so I keep my eyes closed and let myself feel, let my mind unravel in every direction as I try to catch the remnants of my memory from yesterday. If I can wrap myself around it I might close in on a face, a name, a place . . .
“Taxi’s here, lovebirds,” Laurence calls from the door.
I break the kiss, Max looking across at Laurence with mock irritation. “Give us a minute,” he calls to his friend.
Tucked up against him, I get lost in his arresting eyes, my body coming down from the high of our kiss.
After nudging my nose with his and then kissing the tip, he whispers in my ear, “I can’t go anywhere yet. I’ve got a raging erection I need to lose first.”
My head slams. A loud thump reverberates through my head as something jars. Something about the words, or the way the words were delivered. That loud buzzing sensation grips me like a vice, a pain, sharp and unyielding accompanying it.
Clutching my head, I groan as lightning streaks through my temples.
Supporting me with an arm around my waist, Max steers me inside. “Can we get some paracetamol?” he asks the room.
“Did you kiss her dizzy?” Tabi asks, handing me some of her emergency hangover supply as Josie brings a glass of water.
“Did you remember something?” Josie asks gently, brushing back my hair from my face.
“Things are happening. I can feel it.”
“That’s good. Isn’t it?”
I nod. It’s all I’m capable of.
Since Amsterdam,I’ve not wanted to step inside a nightclub. Like that night, I’m surrounded by a group of friends, even if some are newly made. Like then, I’m wearing clothes that leave little to the imagination. But I'm not a single girl looking to pull; I’m with Max, just as in Amsterdam I was with Jonas.
Briefly, I think about calling him to ask how he is. He has his own traumas and scars to deal with, mental and physical. But unlike Jonas, my scars are etched on different parts of my body. Parts of my body that wanted to hide from a man’s gaze.
But now I’m feeling brave.
Some sick bastard marked me with a number. 1074
I was never anything more than an animal meant to serve a purpose, to be labelled as owned. The ink is only about two centimetres in height, but I don’t like it. I want it removed.
I like to imagine I was as defiant as hell when they did that to me, but it’s much more likely I was drugged and didn’t notice. I hope I did anything I could to survive though, to find allies—if they existed. Thoughts of finding ways to delay the inevitable, to protest when a man came for me, occupy me.
I think I’m deluding myself. The bruises across my cheeks and torso when I was found are testimony to what little power I had, as is the three-inch scar on my back, a suspected belt buckle.
