Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
ALISON
I was drenched. The cold rain had almost reached my bones, and yet my shivers could not be blamed on my wet clothes.
My palms were sweaty. I was more nervous right now as I stood in front of Max’s front door than I was when I crashed their little mafia gore party in the basement. And that is saying something.
I’m not that innocent to think that my brothers are saints. But actually seeing them wear their real colors was a totally different thing. I avoided it like the plague. Still, that hadn’t even crossed my mind when I crashed that window and fell ass first on top of hundreds of dollars worth of wine, only to stop them from killing Max.
Even though the pain in my thigh was a good reminder of what happened, the only thing I seemed to think about was the look on Max’s face. I had made him a promise and failed to keep my word. Men of Honor had this obsession with their word. That honor in their title came from upholding their end of any deal, whatever it took .
How ironic, right? For criminals to have a selective moral compass. Where was the line? Was there one?
How pissed was I about to find him?
Taking in a sharp breath, I raised my fist and knocked steadily on the door. I waited and waited, and nothing. I knew from a solid source that he was home. It was a slip-up, but still reliable.
I knocked again, harder this time, and before my knuckles hit the wood the third time, the door swung open, and the barrel of a gun was shoved between my eyes.
My heart hammered against my rib cage like thunder as we stood there for a second too long.
Yeah, he was pissed.
I just wasn’t sure if it was because he was roughened up because of me or the fact that I saved him and castrated his masculinity in a room full of big, bad men.
“What the hell are you doing here, Miss Battaglia?” The sour tone in his voice and that forced formality told me I wasn’t welcome, just as expected. The fact that his gun was still pointing at me gave me that hint, too.
Max’s chest was bare, displaying all those muscles in their toned glory. Small cuts littered his skin, and I couldn’t help the pang of remorse from stabbing me right in the chest.
His pecs pulsed as if counting the seconds of this showdown while his eyes bore into mine, their cold stare running another shiver down my spine.
Without giving it too much thought, I grabbed the barrel of the gun and pulled it out of the way before walking into his apartment.
He would have pulled that trigger by now if that was really his intention, right?
“I came to check on you,” I answered, spinning on my heels now that I was in the middle of his living room, finally facing him again.
“If your brother sent you to spy on me, you can tell him that I’m still here. I’m not leaving, but you sure as fuck are.” He held the door open, motioning with his gun for me to leave.
“No one sent me, and I’m not leaving. Not until I’ve looked at those cuts.”
He looked like shit. His nose was back in place, but the cuts on his eyebrow, arms, and chest were still bloody and untreated. There was a dried stream of blood down the side of his face, and with the derision in his light blue eyes, he sure looked like a menace.
“Are you going to tell me where you keep your first aid kit, or should I just start going through your stuff?”
Max exhaled heavily, as if he was too tired and couldn’t be bothered to fight me on this. For the first time, I noticed the tumbler he held in his hand as he tipped the rest of his drink down his throat and shut the door with the heel of his bare foot.
“Second door to the left. Under the vanity,” He huffed, walking past me and disappearing down the hall. “You’re leaving right after.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I quickly made my way to the bathroom, noticing how luxurious his place was. Being a mafia soldato either paid well as fuck, or Max was loaded before he even got the position. New York was an expensive city, and places like this, 4D rendered out of a damn architectural magazine, would cost a kidney, an arm, and probably both legs. I could see my father, the great Adrian Dornier, architect e xtraordinaire, walking into this place and giving Max a standing ovation .
“Found it,” I said, walking back into the living room, finding Max already seated on the couch.
I tried my best not to stare at the Pollock above the couch to see if it was real or just a fake print. But then again, that only made my eyes land on something a lot more inappropriate and yet much more consuming.
“Change first.” Max cut my stare, motioning to a pile of clothes beside him.
I wasn’t sure what it was in that commanding tone of his that had me clenching my thighs together. He had no doubt that I’d do exactly as I was told.
“Bossy much?”
“If you’re looking to catch pneumonia, I’d kindly ask you to do so someplace else.”
“I’ll need some help with the zipper on my dress.” Maybe that will soften him up.
“Fine.”
Max stood up, his face still blank from any emotion. I swept my hair to the side, expecting an intimate moment like in the movies. Something sensual where he would fight back the urge to run his fingers down my spine as he exposed it gently. Instead, all I got was a harsh tug that had that damn zipper going from top to bottom in less than a second.
I grabbed the sweater from the couch before letting my dress slip to the floor. The grunt that came from his throat wasn’t lost on me, but there was no saying if it was a content sound.
Any other man would be more than transparently satisfied to see a woman in nothing but her underwear in front of him, even if all he saw was my back. Not Max. It was as if I was inflicting pain far worse than the cuts Liam had gifted him earlier.
I grabbed the pen that sat on the coffee table, curling my hair around it and securing the bun in place before turning towards Max.
“How bad does it hurt?” The words were faint and almost a whisper as I swallowed the lump in my throat before kneeling in front of Max, right between his legs.
“It doesn’t anymore.”
I dabbed a piece of gauze in some antiseptic and slowly started wiping each cut. Max’s muscles strained with the pain, but not a single sound came out of his mouth.
“I’m sorry.”
“I said it doesn’t hurt, Miss Battaglia.”
“What doesn’t hurt is to have some manners, Mr.?”
Max exhaled heavily, closing his eyes and reigning himself in as I carried on cleaning his cuts.
“Thank you,” He whispered, bringing a smile to my face.
“And it’s Alison.”
“Don’t push it,” Max replied, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone this time. “Why is it Battaglia and not Dornier? That’s your real last name, right?”
“Oh, that’s a loaded question.”
“So I hold a gun to your head and there’s no reaction, yet you flinch at such a seemingly simple question? Interesting.” His perception was too sharp, and right now, I hated being under that magnifying glass aimed at the most vulnerable part of me.
“I think you’re the interesting one in the room. From what I’ve gathered, you know a whole lot more about me and my family than I know about you.”
“As it should be. I told you that secrets are the soul of the business.”
“So, this is business?” I pressed harder on the next cut, feeling Max slightly flinch before regaining his composure .
“No. This is a secret.” I couldn’t help but smile at his words. There was something intimate about keeping a secret.
“What other secrets can you tell me about you?”
Max’s face went serious, his whole demeanor shifting the energy around us.
“You can’t repeat this to a single soul.”
“I promise.”
“I’m a Virgo.”
I couldn’t help the burst of laughter that erupted from my mouth at his joke. But it was the unique smile that Max directed at me that slowly brought me to a stop. In his eyes, there was a kind of longing. A different glint that sparkled as he watched me with a grin that hit me right in the chest.
“That’s all you’re giving me?”
“Wouldn’t want to end up in a basement being tortured to death for disclosing classified information.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ve said that before. But for what?” Max’s hand landed on mine, stopping my movements as he buried those eyes straight into my soul. “For not asking me to stop kissing you like I told you to? For almost getting me killed? Or for coming here and trying to get the job finished?”
“I’m alone, Max. I’m not trying to test your loyalty.”
“No. You’re testing something else entirely.”
Max remained silent, frozen in his spot, before slowly taking his hand off mine, allowing me to carry on cleaning the cuts on his chest.
The silence in the room was deafening. So loaded that I found myself needing to break it.
“My brothers aren’t that bad.” Why that was my go-to icebreaker was a mystery even to me.
“I know. In hindsight, it looked pretty bad from the outside. ”
“I’m sure. I was too wrapped up in the moment to think straight,” I confessed, a small smile covering my lips as my mind went back to all the things he was making me feel.
“Don’t go there, Miss Battaglia.” I knew what he was doing. He was trying to make me know what my place was. Who I was and where he stood in comparison.
“I thought you didn’t like me. The way you said you weren’t going to kiss me, I thought you found me repulsive.” I kept my eyes on his chest, avoiding his gaze. This honesty thing wasn’t easy to face.
“We can’t have this conversation.”
“So it was all for show. You do find me repulsive.”
“Repulsive?” Max grabbed my chin with his thumb and index, pulling my face up and forcing me to look at him. “You’re absolutely disgusting , Miss Battaglia. Disgustingly alluring in all the wrong ways. Disgustingly beautiful. So disgustingly vulnerable right now, alone, in a mafioso’s house.” His hand slithered down to wrap around my throat, the gentle pressure making me light-headed just as much as every word out of his mouth. “Don’t even get me started on how fucking disgusting you look, kneeling between my legs with my damn clothes on.”
My whole body shuddered under his touch. His words were like a sharp arrow hitting the bullseye right where they shouldn’t. I couldn’t help myself from inching closer, our lips just a breath away from clashing. Max’s fingers dug harsher into my sensitive flesh, but soon enough, he was pushing me back.
“Don’t do this, Alison.” His jaw was tight, those muscles clenched into a hard mass.
There was no mistaking the pang of humiliation that pierced my chest, the heat of shame burning hot on my cheeks .
I folded back into my previous position, my head hanging low as I forced myself to focus on my hands. The worst had already happened. There was no way anyone would find out if we didn’t tell them. Why was he pushing me away?
And then it dawned on me. He called me Alison. Not Miss Battaglia, like he did to point out our differences, but Alison.
Inhaling deeply, I gathered all the courage in me and looked up at him. “Please?”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Max hissed, sucking in a breath and sprinting to his feet while I remained kneeling in the same spot.
I focused on his body because, by now, it was clear he was raging a war against his conscience but his body hadn’t gotten the memo. If he took the smallest of steps further, my nose would be grazing his crotch.
As that realization hit, my eyes landed precisely on the bulge in his pants, a wicked smile threatening to spread my lips when I understood what I’d done wrong. Or too right, in Max’s book.
“Max,” I whispered, my hands landing on his thighs, claiming his attention back to my face, saying that magic word again as expressively as I could before tucking my bottom lip between my teeth, “Please?”
Before I could steady myself, Max was crashing his lips to mine, his hand buried in my hair while the other helped me to stand.
His tongue probed into my mouth, ravaging me just like he had before. No ounce of Max was holding back now.
“You’ll be my damn ruin. Begging or not.” He whispered against my lips between kisses. The hand he had in my hair slid down, switching between holding my throat and caressing my jaw .
My whole body was alive. Electrified with a kind of desire I’d never felt before.
My fingers ran through his hair, bringing him closer and crashing my whole body into his. The hiss that left his mouth was involuntary, a reaction he’d been trying to hide before.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” I let go of him, holding my hands up.
“Fuck the cuts. You’ve dug too deep into my skin for them to stop me now.”
“Yes,” I moaned as he buried his head in the crook of my neck, kissing his way across my skin until his damn clothes got in the way. “Take it off.”
“Are you sure?”
I craved danger, mystery, lust. Max was all of the above and yet so much more. Was I too eager to try and see more, or was there a real attraction far more powerful than just the horny hormones traveling my blood?
“I’m cold. Make me burn, Max.”
“You have no idea what you’re asking for.”
I really didn’t. And if I ever thought about the moment I’d lose my virginity, the steadiness in my decision and resolve wasn’t ever so steely as it was in this moment.
Max shed his clothes off me, leaving me in nothing but my tiny underwear before backing me up with kisses and heading down the hall. Every piece of skin his hands and lips touched burned, igniting to life under his assault.
Max laid me on the bed, cocked his head to the side, taking in the image in front of him. Unconsciously, I snapped my legs closed, maybe too embarrassed to show him the most private part of me.
Gently settling both hands on each knee, he pried my legs open for his viewing pleasure. He took his damn time taking me in, inch by inch, his eyes feasting over my body before settling on the only piece of fabric on me. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, the hunger in his eyes making his pupils blow and cover his blue in a haunting black.
“Tell me, Alison, how wet is this pussy for me?”
With a harsh tug on my ankles, my ass was right at the edge of the bed. Max took his place between my legs, lowering himself to place a slow and ravenous kiss on my lips. Whatever feeling of inadequacy I had before as Max looked at me in my most vulnerable state was gone under each stroke of his tongue.
Fire and ice built in the pit of my stomach as he worshiped my mouth, kissing me, devouring me, possessing me. His hands were free, roaming my skin, feeling every patch of me that he could reach. Max’s hips ground into my pussy, his hard erection delivering the most enticing feeling each time he pushed it into me.
My pussy pulsed and clutched with an empty feeling, and I knew that I was more than ready to feel him bury himself inside me.
From my lips, to my throat, to my breasts, Max drew a line of warm, wet kisses all over my body before stopping over my stomach.
He was so close. So damn close.
I watched as Max knelt between my thighs, his nose running the length of the thong that covered my pussy.
“I want to hear you say it, Baby. How drenched are you?”
“Soaked.”
The crudeness in his words stole any response right from my brain. All I could do was breathe and stare at his glorious face as he peered at me from below.
“You smell so fucking sweet. So fucking ready for me to take you.”
“Yes, so ready,” I barely managed, the words coming out in a breathy pant .
Max’s finger hooked under my underwear, pulling it aside before his tongue settled on me. Jesus, the feeling was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Sir Shakesalot, my vibrator, had a lot to learn before he could make me feel anything like this.
“Oh my God,” I think I said, fisting the sheets beside me as Max licked my clit, his tongue delivering just as much torment as pleasure.
It was an otherworldly experience. Something I’d remember for the rest of my life. The sounds he made as he licked me were near primal. Groans and grunts so deep that they were enough to have my cheeks reddening from their erotic melody.
And suddenly, he stopped.
My eyes flew back open, fearing I’d done something wrong.
I followed his movement as he walked over to the nightstand and returned with a condom in his hand. This was it. This was the night I’d remember for the rest of my life, no matter what.
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
Fuck, yes, I’m sure.
I opened my legs further, showing him that I was more than ready. Before I could stop it, a nagging thought blasted into my head. He was so ready, a condom sitting in his nightstand. How many other women had he fucked right here?
I closed my eyes for a second, shaking my head and getting rid of that image. I was a twenty-two-year-old virgin, and even if Max was my age, which he probably wasn’t, I couldn’t blame the guy for dipping it in other women before.
When I refocused, Max’s frame was covering me, his cock already lined up with my entrance. He kissed me again fiercely before burying his cock so far into me that we were fused together.
I sucked in a breath, my head quickly turning to the side while my eyes shut as tight as they could go. My legs shook while my core burned from within.
Fuck, this was painful!
“Alison?” Max called, but I needed a moment to recover. “Alison? Look at me.”
Max grabbed my jaw and forced my eyes to meet his, the tears running down the side of my face. His expression changed in a split second from lustful to worried and then confused.
“Did someone put you up to this?”
“What? No! Why would you think that?”
“You’re crying, Alison.” He stated matter of factly. There was a tinge of anger in his voice, laced with accusation, and yet he was still buried inside of me.
“I’m crying because it hurts.” I swallowed, the pain slowly subsiding as Max remained extra still.
“It what?” I saw his chest heaving, his breathing becoming heavy as realization set in. “Are you a virgin, Alison?” Humiliation stole the sound from my words, so all I could do was nod. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“I’m sorry,” I said, taking his shock to break free from his grasp. I wasn’t even sure why I was apologizing.
“No, no, no. Stop.” He grabbed my face again and kissed me gently. His lips were less urgent now. It wasn’t about the frenzy of lust. It was something far more dangerous, “You should have told me. I could have been gentle. Fuck, Alison.”
“We wouldn’t be here if I’d said anything.”
“It’s done now. Was before your first time, too? Me eating you out?”
“Yes.” My voice was barely above a whisper .
“I’m your fucking first.” Max sealed that statement with another kiss, a deeper one this time that slowly had my tense body relaxing just a bit. “I’m going to move slowly, and you’re gonna let me know just how bad it hurts.”
I nodded, and Max pulled out just an inch, a small gasp leaving my mouth.
“Shhh, okay, okay. It will get better.” With his hand between our bodies, Max started drawing circles on my clit, his eyes buried into mine. “I’m your fucking first.”
It was as if he was repeating those words to try and believe they were true. There would be proof on these white sheets of his if he had any doubt left at the end.
Slowly, as my breathing picked up again, Max started moving in small circles, his cock hardly pulling out of me a single inch.
“You’re doing so good, taking me so well.” His mouth lowered to my nipple, and I couldn’t help my back from arching in bliss as he sucked it into his mouth.
“That’s my good girl,” He groaned, praising me as I started to give in and allow the pleasure to spread through me again. “Focus on the pleasure, Baby.”
“It doesn’t help that your cock is so big and thick.”
“You’ve never seen a cock before, so you can’t say that.”
“Being a virgin and never seeing cock are not the same thing.”
“Pissing me off right now is not the best route, Alison. And the idea that you’ve seen or touched another cock going through my head while I’m balls deep inside of you is more than enough to piss me off. I crave punishment when I’m pissed off.” Max withdrew a little more before thrusting deep into me, not enough to actually hurt, and the notion that it hadn’t burned as much gave me at least the faint hope of this being pleasurable .
“There was this one that was pierced,” I teased, wanting to push Max’s buttons for whatever reason.
“You want to be punished, Alison?” Max’s thumb and finger clamped down on my nipple, pinching it harder than he had before, and even though the pain shot through my body, the only thing left in its wake was pure and ultimate pleasure.
“Okay, okay,” I giggled, relenting.
Working his way through my pain, Max managed to pull out entirely before burying himself into me again. It was strange how comfortable it felt to be broken in by him, one stroke at a time. One kiss at a time.
Just as it started to get better, Max pulled out entirely, pushing my thighs up to my chest and lowering himself until he was level with my pussy.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered against my clit before kissing my entrance. I tried squirming out of his grasp, but he held me in place with ease.
“What are you doing? Isn’t there blood everywhere?”
“Who cares? I’m a mafioso, Alison. I’ve seen plenty of blood in my life, and yet none of it was as beautiful as this. I’m not cocky enough to think I can make you come on your first time, but I’m not letting you leave this house before you do. So relax, Princess. I’m going to eat you now until the pain is faint and there’s nothing but stars in your eyes.”
Without waiting for my response, Max thrust his tongue into my aching pussy before licking his way up to my clit and then back again. He feasted on me like a hungered man, starved his entire life.
Should I feel self-conscious because he was licking me clean? I probably should. But the heat rising to my cheeks was not shame, it was pure desire.
“Oh God, Max. This is… ”
“I know, Angelo,” Angel, he replied in a whisper, “Let go, Baby. Come for me.”
“Oh, oh, oh.” My hands fisted his hair, gripping on for dear life as Max took me over the edge. Stars of a million different colors burst into flames behind my closed eyes, and all I could do was cry out his name. “Oh, Maxxx.”
Never in my entire life had I experienced anything remotely close to what Max had made me feel.
As I slowly recovered, Max laid on the bed beside me and pulled the covers over the both of us, making me as confused as ever.
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll jerk off in the shower tomorrow.” He said, the chuckle in his tone settling in my stomach and traveling north before burying into my chest. Or maybe it was the way he cared for me to the detriment of his own pleasure instead.
With one arm around my waist, Max pulled me into his chest, covering my whole body with his as he settled behind me, his nose buried into my messy hair. I couldn’t help my thoughts from wandering to the image of him jerking off in the morning. Maybe I can help him or even surprise him with something warmer than a hand in the shower. How would he react if I woke him up with my mouth around his cock?
With that thought and a smile on my lips, I closed my eyes and trusted my dreams to elaborate on that plan for when the time came. I have to tell Matt to lay off. I think I like Maxy Max.
The morning sun stung as it hit my eyes. My throat was dry as I swallowed, maybe the effects of those wet clothes and sleeping naked. I sat up on the bed, trying to catch my bearings, my body protesting as I stretched.
I’m at Max’s house .
How fast had I fallen asleep?
The memories of last night invaded my mind, and I couldn’t help but smile while my chest and stomach fluttered at the thought. He was the perfect gentleman, and I couldn’t wait to repay the favor. The bed was empty, nothing but ragged sheets stained with the proof of what we’d done.
With the stupidest smile on my face, I wrapped one of those sheets around me and made my way through the house, trying to find Max. I wandered through the halls, the living room, and finally, the kitchen before returning to the bedroom.
My stomach sank as I realized he wasn’t home. Maybe my brother had summoned him, and he had no choice but to go.
Then my eyes landed on the piece of paper, messy, handwritten words scribbled across it in a hurry, letting me know it was nothing but a choice not to be here.
One night stands don’t include sleepovers. Even first-timers. This was my exception as a thank you for breaking into that basement.
You can take the bloody sheets as a souvenir.
Please lock the door when you leave.