6. Ciara
CHAPTER 6
CIARA
M y brain short-circuits.
Max, the god among men, just rewired my entire nervous system with his talented tongue, and I’m floating somewhere between bliss and full-blown panic. Did I really just orgasm like a fireworks finale while clamped around his face like a starfish?
Yes. Yes, I did.
Do I regret it?
Nope, not even a little.
But as he hovers over me now, all carved muscle and primal hunger, reality smacks me: this mountain of an ex-Marine is about to be inside me .
“You still with me, baby?” Max rasps, brushing damp hair from my forehead. His voice is deep and husky, and it does unspeakable things to my ovaries.
“Define ‘with you,’” I croak, gesturing limply at my post-orgasm noodle limbs. “I think my soul left my body.”
He chuckles, low and wicked, nipping my lips. “Good. Now let’s bring it back.”
His hand slides down between my thighs, and I gasp.
“Told you it was round one.” His fingers circle my clit, already coaxing another moan. “But only if you’re ready for more. Remember, you can say red ?”
“ Green ,” I blurt, gripping his biceps. “ Super green .” This man makes me feel like a wanton goddess.
His pupils dilate, a predator locking onto prey. “Thank Christ.”
He kisses me hard, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth with desperation, and my hips rock against his. Friction burns where his cock— holy hell —so thick and iron-hard, presses against my belly. Every ridge of it digs into me as he shifts, and I swear I hear angels harmonizing.
“Ciara.” He tears his lips from mine, forehead pressed to my shoulder. His voice trembles. “I need to hear you say it again. That you want this. That you want me .”
I grasp his strong jaw, forcing his gaze to mine. “I’ve wanted you since I saw your dating profile. Max, you’re a six foot six walking fantasy. And being here with you in real life has only confirmed that you really are everything .”
A growl rips from his chest. He reaches between us, lining himself up, and my stomach somersaults.
Then he pauses, and winces. “Fuck, I don't have any condoms. I swear, I'm clean. I got tested after my last partner, and that was years ago. But if you’re not comfortable with?—”
“I'm on the pill…and I trust you,” I interrupt, looking into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there.
His expression softens, and he brushes a lock of hair away from my face. “You humble me, Ciara. I promise, I'll take care of you.”
I smile, my heart fluttering. “I know you will.”
He kisses me again, slow and deep, as he reaches down to position himself at my entrance. I feel the broad, thick head of his cock push against me, and I tense up, my nails digging into his back.
“Breathe,” he murmurs, kissing my collarbone. “Tell me if it hurts.”
I nod. The first push steals my breath—stretching, aching , a sharp pinch that makes me hiss.
Max freezes. “Are we at red?”
“Yellow,” I pant, squeezing my eyes shut.
He stills, sweat dripping onto my chest. “Look at me.”
I force my eyes open. His gaze burns, tender and feral all at once.
“You’re perfect,” he says, voice hoarse. “So tight and fucking perfect.”
Emotion swells in my throat. No one’s ever looked at me like this—like I’m a feast, a revelation. He moves again, inch by torturous inch, until he’s fully seated.
“Holy shit ,” I wheeze.
A strangled laugh escapes him. “That’s my line.”
“How is this humanly possible? You’re like...a redwood. A massive heat-seeking missile. A?—”
He cuts me off with a searing kiss. “Don’t think. Feel,” he rumbles against my lips.
Then he moves.
The stretch melts into molten pleasure, friction sparking nerves I didn’t know existed—inside, outside, and maybe in some undiscovered fourth dimension. My back arches, a broken moan escaping as he finds a rhythm—deep, deliberate strokes that leave me clawing at his shoulders.
“That’s it,” he grits out, fingers digging into my hip. “Take me, baby. All of it.”
His praise liquifies my bones. “Max, please ?—”
“What?” He nips my jaw, hips snapping harder. “Use your words, pretty girl.”
“Don’t stop,” I beg, wrapping my legs around his waist. “ More, soldier. Forward march… ”
He chuckles, his groan vibrating through me. “Fuck, you’re everything.”
The bed creaks. The headboard thuds against the wall. I’m vaguely aware we’re recreating a metronome on steroids, but all that matters is Max—his growls in my ear, his hands everywhere, his cock hitting a spot that makes me see constellations.
“ Mine ,” he snarls suddenly, gripping my hair. “This sweet pussy’s mine now.”
The possession in his voice detonates something primal. I come unraveled, pleasure swelling inside me, flames licking every nerve ending into a frenzied peak. Everything is wet and hot, and suddenly I’m screaming his name, thighs trembling as he continues to fuck me through the aftershocks.
“Ciara—” He stills, shuddering, hips jerking as he spills inside me with a groan that could melt glaciers.
Collapsing onto me, he peppers kisses along my throat. He rests his head on my neck, and I could cry because it's all so overwhelming.
Sex is one thing, but Max is so much more.
“You okay?” he asks.
I hum in response, boneless and buzzing. “Did we...break the bed?”
He lifts his head, glancing at the sideways mattress and shrugs. “Worth it.”
We untangle limbs, laughing breathlessly. He fetches a towel, cleaning me with a gentleness that contrasts with the animal he was five minutes ago. When he settles back, pulling me against his chest, I relax into him.
I’m going to be so sore tomorrow— everywhere .
His fingers card through my hair, affectionately. “You were incredible.”
Warmth floods my chest. “You too. For an old guy.”
He pinches my thigh. “Respect your elders.”
We fall quiet, his heartbeat steady under my ear. His thumb strokes my hip. “You’re nothing like I expected, you know.”
I stiffen.
“I’ve heard most people lie on dating sites,” he continues. “About their age, their interests. But you...” He kisses my forehead. “You’re so honest. So real .”
Guilt acid sears my throat.
No, I’m a liar, a fraud, and a total disaster. And I’m not the woman you think I am.
“Max, I?—”
“Shh.” He tucks the blanket around us. “Sleep. We’ve got time.”
I’m thankful he stopped me. I’m not even sure what to say now. Or how to say it without ruining everything.
I should tell him. I should confess, come clean, lay it all out there. But the thought of seeing the look on his face, the disappointment, the betrayal...it's too much. I can't do it. I can't lose him. Not now. Not after this.
I focus on the feel of his arms around me, the warmth of his body against mine. Tonight might be all we have. Tomorrow, everything could change.
But tonight, I'm his. And he's mine. And that's enough.
His breathing evens out, and I stare into the dark, his words on loop.
Honest. Real. Tears burn my eyes.
Dammit, I’m so in love with him.
And once I tell him the truth, I’m going to break both of our hearts.