27. Twenty-seven
Twenty-seven
Arne
M ax helped me get my cum-covered self into the shower again. With gentle hands he washed me, from my neck down to my feet. And—I blushed so hard when he did—also my backside. He kept his touches light in case I was sore and spread the foam around and between my cheeks, humming softly under his breath.
I’d never felt so loved and cherished before. I never knew how much I craved being taken care of, either.
When I was all clean, he dried me off and led me into the bedroom at the end of the house. The bed was an enormous mattress with soft grey sheets and a view of the sea stretching out before us.
I love this place.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” I breathed.
“ You are beautiful,” Max murmured, hugging me tightly. His fingers slid into my hair, tilting my face to give him better access to my mouth. “Let’s lie down,” he rasped when he backed out of the kiss. He kept hold of me, though, and his dark, swirling eyes searched my face. “I don’t know how to be around you and not want you.”
I couldn’t have stopped myself from giving him the most lovesick smile ever if I had tried.
“You like that?” Max asked, scrunching his nose so adorably my smile widened even more.
“Yeah, I like that, Raven. All I think about is you. I love that it’s the same for you.”
He tackled me to the bed, scrambling to straddle my hips, and devoured my mouth with vigorous energy.
By the time he was done with me, my ass was sore, my dick limp, and my body relaxed. We fell asleep with our legs entangled and in each other’s arms.