Chapter 11
11
S ome little voice of instinct is warning me that this is a far more important decision than simply who gets to get the other person off first. On the one hand, Max has made it clear he plans to be in charge, which, however unfashionable in the modern age, sends a certain delicious thrill down my spine. On the other hand, I’m less interested in being bossed around outside the bedroom. Or even in it if it’s midnight and I need to pee. I don’t want to have to crawl over him simply to get to the bathroom because he’s insisted on pushing the bed into a corner so he can better protect me. I have my limits.
Not that he’s done any of that. Yet.
“Jenna?” The note of warning in Max’s gruff voice is unmistakable.
“Max,” I respond evenly, still exploring his cock with my fingers. “You don’t get to be in charge all the time. I’m an adult and I get to decide when I go to the bathroom.”
His dimly lit face registers complete bewilderment. I move both my hands up to frame his cheeks gently while I explain. “I’m picturing you deciding that I would be safer if you moved the bed into the corner and made me sleep on the inside.”
His face relaxes slightly, but I also detect the heat of interest in his pale eyes. He quite likes that idea. I knew he would.
“And as cozy as that might seem at bedtime, it would be awkward and annoying as hell if I need to get up in the middle of the night. I don’t want to have to climb over you and wake you up simply to visit the bathroom ten feet away.”
He opens his mouth to protest, but I move one hand to his jaw and shut it again. “Nope. Not up for debate. I’ll allow you a few caveman tendencies, but only with strict limitations.”
His fingers have stopped moving, but they’re still buried inside me. The heat in his eyes is the only warning I have before he flips us both over. His hand leaves my pussy to my whimper of protest. Only to be followed by a murmur of interest when I feel his thick cock notched at my entrance. Is this it? Did I push him into finally fucking me properly?
Apparently not. He’s not moving, not pushing his thick cock into me, not doing anything. I wriggle, attempting to somehow draw him into me even though I know it doesn’t work like that. Not with a cock as big as his, anyway.
“Max!” I wail in frustration.
His deep rumble of a response is a long time coming. “Go to sleep, baby.”
“What?! You can’t be serious right now.” His weight is lightly pinning me down, but not my extremities. My arms flail, trying to move him. Not away, but maybe into a position where my aching, wet pussy can rub all over his thick cock.
He drops a light kiss on my forehead. “If you want release, little one, then we need to do things my way. But not tonight. We’ll revisit the question in the morning.”
I growl in frustration. I’m sure he’d let me up if I insisted, right before ordering me away from him and into a guestroom to sleep. Which I do not want to do. So really, he’s winning the argument, which annoys me nearly as much as the ache in my pussy.
“How am I supposed to sleep like this?” I pout against his shoulder.
“I find debating the relative merits of bubbly versus still water helps,” Max comments dryly.
I huff for another minute before realizing that he’s confessing to something I haven’t heard before.
“Were you frustrated with me or someone else?” I ask in a very small voice, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Max buries his head against my neck and nips the skin lightly. “I have never spared a single longing thought for anyone other than you, Jenna.”
“Oh.” I sigh happily and discover that his firm thigh has wedged itself between my legs. I give an experimental wiggle and discover it’s rubbing my clit in exactly the right way. I shift again, a pulse of energy lighting up my body. Max sighs but doesn’t move his leg. I feel ever so slightly guilty using him like this, but then he started it. Sort of. I hesitate, holding my breath. Should I give up and suffer like he told me to? But for what, really?
Max growls and shifts me up in the bed with both hands. Then his mouth is on mine, claiming me with everything he’s feeling. His hand returns to my pussy, only not so gently this time. He’s not being rough exactly, just maybe more focused? He pinches my clit and holds it there while his tongue teases my palate. I squirm in his hold and my clit is throbbing so fiercely it’s making my lower back itch. When I don’t think I can take it anymore, Max releases his fingers and plunges them deep inside me.
I cum with a scream into his mouth that he uses to his advantage, his tongue sliding against mine to the same rhythm as his fingers. My body continues to spasm with sharp jerks of energy. This is primal and raw, not the gentle lovemaking from earlier.
When my body finally calms, Max tucks me against his side without a word. I can’t help wondering if I get to ask a question in the morning or not. I don’t think I’ll be the one to broach the topic, I decide sleepily as I place a soft kiss on his chest and let myself sink into sleep.
In the morning, I wake to an empty bed. I’m not sure why I find that slightly disappointing. But I do. Maybe I want to preen a little over having Max in the same bed with me. Not that I did anything to accomplish that, but I’m excited by these recent developments and I want to enjoy them for as long as possible. Taking a moment to stretch, I contemplate all the variables of the upcoming day. I should work. Javier is still here. Max and I are supposedly getting married. Although I’m not entirely sure I didn’t dream that one up all on my own.
With a sigh, I sit up and roll out of the giant bed. A brief stint in the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, and I feel slightly more optimistic. Until I descend the stairs and find the most domestic scene awaiting me in the kitchen.
Max is studying a pan full of sizzling bacon that smells divine while Javier sits relaxed at the nearby table. Kiki, the traitor, is curled up on his lap purring. She blinks her green eyes at me, then closes them in bliss, her sharp little claws partially extended as she kneads Javier’s trousers. He doesn’t even flinch.
I sigh and head straight for the coffeepot. Max looks up from his pans with a frown. “Everything okay, Jenna?”
Pouring coffee as I contemplate the question, I eventually answer, “I’m not sure. What’s the plan for today and when are you going to answer my questions?”
Max moves the bacon and hash browns I’ve only just noticed onto plates before cracking eggs into the now empty frying pans. “The plan is for you to edit while Javier chases down the necessary people and paperwork.”
“And what will you be doing?” I inquire suspiciously.
Max raises one eyebrow but doesn’t respond until all the plates are on the table. “I’ll be following up with my agent and my attorney to ensure Rudnam understands their precarious legal position.”
Well, that took the wind right out of my sails. I pout around my mouthful of eggs. What I really want to be doing is snuggling up with Max in his winter hideaway while he explains everything I’m so very confused about.
Javier glances over with what almost could be construed as sympathy, but he doesn’t say anything. He simply continues stroking Kiki with one hand while eating neatly with the other.
“Are we really sure this is a good idea?” I mutter somewhat rhetorically. However, both men take it seriously. Javier merely nodding while Max’s frown deepens.
“It probably isn’t. However, it beats the current alternative,” he offers dryly.
But my heart catches on his first sentence. He doesn’t want to get married? Or just to me? But, earlier he’d said… Suddenly my appetite is gone. I push my plate back, preparing to stand and escape. Editing never sounded so good. I’ll be left alone with my thoughts and worries. Nobody else need be any the wiser.
Except for Max, apparently, who stops my ascent with a firm grip on my arm. “Not so fast, baby.” He sips his coffee, his hold on my arm never wavering.
“Now,” he says slowly, setting his mug down, “why are you agitated? Are you no longer wanting to remain here with me?”
Javier watches with wide, unblinking eyes. He doesn’t appear shocked, more like he’s taking mental notes. My list of questions just doubled.
“Jenna?” Max prompts impatiently.
“I’m not the one saying getting married isn’t a great idea,” I point out acerbically.
Max’s expression softens. He stands, his firm grip on my arm pulling me up too. “Excuse us, Javier.” And with that, I’m hustled out of the kitchen and back upstairs to Max’s bedroom.
Max sets me down on the bed and then looms over me, his weight physically anchored by his long arms braced either side of me on the bed, but it’s really his eyes that are pinning me in place. “Jenna, I can see that nothing short of the truth will satisfy your inquisitive little brain. But in exchange, I’m going to require a promise that you not run away.”
My brow furrows. “Why would I run away? You aren’t deformed, although even if you were, I love you too much to care.”
Max’s gaze softens. “You love me?”
I nod hesitantly. Not because I’m unsure, but I thought he knew that already. “Would I still be here if I didn’t?”
His lips quirk. “Interest isn’t the same as love, baby. You know this.”
I sigh. “Let’s not get into words now. What’s this truth you think will send me out the door?”
Max hesitates for a long moment. “I can explain it or I can demonstrate. Which would you prefer?” His right hand is on the button of his jeans. I lick my lips.
“Oh, a demonstration, definitely.” I smirk up at the man who holds all my heart and who seems inexplicably nervous about his own body, which makes absolutely no sense.
Max swallows hard. My concern deepens. This is not a man who exhibits insecurities about his body or his choices. Only mine, apparently. What the hell is he so afraid of?
His jeans and boxers disappear silently and I’m left staring at a perfectly respectable, if not slightly generous, set of male genitalia. No complaints so far and nothing looks out of the ordinary either. I raise a questioning eyebrow once I can tear my lascivious gaze away to look him in the eye.
Max pulls me to my feet, then reaches for my jeans, but I stop him briefly. “Hey, why is your shirt still on? I want the full experience.”
He rolls his eyes, but something in him relaxes slightly as he yanks his long-sleeved t-shirt up and over his head. Then his hands are quickly and efficiently stripping me before pushing my hips back down to the edge of the bed.
It’s only when he brings my legs up around his waist before bending to notch his cock in place that I realize he means to fuck me here and now. I’m all in favor, but somehow I was expecting him to be slightly more traditional about it all. I bite my lip before I say anything that will change his mind and watch as he slowly sinks into me. It’s hot as hell. His thick cock, unencumbered by a condom, is piercing my willing pussy with steady determination. It’s only an instant before I feel the first tingle. Not the thrilling mental kind, although there’s that too. This is an actual warming, tickling feeling inside me. It spreads as Max penetrates my channel, an almost crackling energy that has me wanting more. More of him, more friction, so much more . “Max!” I whimper.
“Tell me how it feels, Jenna.” His voice is hoarse, almost yearning.
“It feels like need. Tingling, warmth, but mostly need. I need you to move faster, to take me completely,” I beg.
He grunts with relief and satisfaction. His cock comes to rest against my cervix, filling me up and not easing the ache in the slightest, although the sensation of being full of Max, my Max, is worth cherishing. I wiggle against him, but his hands come down to hold me still. The tingling intensifies.
When Max finally begins to withdraw, my body quickens. I need him back. Right now! “Max!”
He strokes in deep again and I erupt. Thousands of little fireworks exploding everywhere his cock touches. I convulse around him, but he continues to pump into me slow and easy, ignoring my pussy’s attempt to hold him in place. Each stroke ignites new fireworks until I can no longer hold myself up and my upper half flops down on the bed.
Max pauses briefly. “Jenna? You okay?”
I wave a dismissive hand at him but don’t open my eyes. “Don’t you dare stop now, Maxim Behr, or I swear I will wreak vile retribution.”
His dry chuckle is my only response before he begins a more aggressive assault on my body. This time he leans in over me, changing the angle and intensifying the need building all over again. The tingling hasn’t stopped. If anything, it’s moved on to pinpricks of pleasure pain that crave the soothing touch of his cock. I lose count after five orgasms, each one more intense than the previous and all of them like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
When Max finally cums with a growl befitting a real bear, his weight briefly sags down on me. I wrap my arms around him and hold him close as his cum fills me up. As it does so, it extinguishes all those flaming, tingling nerve endings. I’m left with comfort and satisfaction, content to be with Max exactly like this and no longer seeking some impossible peak.
He bends his head to nuzzle my cheek. “Jenna? You alright, baby?”
I sigh and stretch my arms and legs out to the sides. “Never better.” I wrap those same limbs around him like I’m hugging a tree trunk. “Now, what had you all in a flutter, earlier?”
Max peers down at me with a quizzical expression. “No complaints at all? That wasn’t painful, or has you itching unbearably?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Pretty damn amazing, though. Whatever you’re worried about, let it go. But explain first, please,” I tease him while searching for and not finding a ticklish spot on him somewhere.
He reaches back and captures my questing hands before responding. “There’s some kind of gland nobody has ever heard of before on my cock, under the hood. When you first caught my attention, and my imagination, it began leaking copiously. I sent a sample off with Javier and it came back as resembling a highly sensitizing and very illegal sexual lubricant. It also dissolves condoms,” he adds dryly.
So many questions. I start with the obvious one. “Why did you send your bodily fluids to Javier, of all people?”
Max snorts. “Because he has access to secret government labs where no records are kept and no questions are asked. Or at least not official ones.” I resist the bait to follow up on how that strange man presumably still down in the kitchen petting my cat has government access like that. But I quite like the idea of Max instantly getting hard just thinking about me. It’s a nice stroke to my ego, which is healthy enough not to have high expectations.
“Are you admitting you were getting hard fantasizing about me?”
Max shakes his head, which briefly knocks my confidence right off its pedestal. “No fantasizing required, baby. I got hard just talking to you on the phone. Why do you think I refused any video calls? I’d have scared a sweet girl like you shitless.”
My pussy clamps down on his still embedded cock, just thinking about all our conversations and imagining him stroking himself while we discuss the relative merits of adverbs.
Max growls and withdraws his cock completely from my body, planting a smacking kiss on my pouting lips. “Enough of that. You didn’t answer my earlier question. Are you still experiencing any side effects?”
I shake my head. “No, when you came, all the tingling stopped immediately.”
He tilts in head in contemplation. “Huh, we didn’t explore that angle. Why don’t you take a nap while I go fill Javier in?”
I scurry upright and grab his arm firmly. “Max, on pain of death, you are not to discuss our sex life with anyone not in this room right now.”
“But medically,” he begins to protest. I stop him with a hand over his mouth.
“If and when there is something medically concerning you and I will discuss the appropriate parties to involve. This is not that time. I’m fine. I had amazing sex with the man I’m planning to marry and that does not warrant a news alert to the media.”
Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Amazing?”
I frown up at him. “Don’t get a swelled head. I expect you to continue striving for improvement. That goes for the adverbs, too.”