Chapter Forty-Two Max
Chapter Forty-Two
Max
It took everything in me not to tell the Harrington twat to keep his eyes off Gemma. His blatant flirting was unsavory and unprofessional. I understand Grayson is rather fond of him, but I have no connection to the wanker, so as far as I’m concerned, he can piss right off.
I saw red the moment his lips grazed Gemma’s skin.
I’ve been friends with Grayson long enough to see how men like him operate, using their position, their wealth, their lineage to stake claims on whatever they want.
The reckless side of me wanted to press her against one of his ostentatious walls and make it abundantly clear that she’s mine.
Natalie leads us through a labyrinth of corridors, each wall decorated and lined with impressive artwork. I bet some of these pieces are worth millions.
I press my hand gently against Gemma’s lower back. She leans into it, not moving away, which is a relief. I’m glad she isn’t angry about Casey’s text, because I’m carrying enough fury for us both.
The moment her name appeared on the dash, a rush of agitation ignited in my chest. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. I don’t want to have to change my bloody number because my ex won’t leave me alone. I have too many work connections to do that. She better not make this a habit.
I blocked the number as soon as I stepped out of the car. I saw the shift in Gemma’s body language. The tension in the air was suffocating, but I’m relieved she believed me.
“The viewing gallery is through here,” Natalie says, gesturing toward a set of double doors. “Lord Harrington had everything arranged this morning when he heard you were coming.”
Of course he did.
Natalie pushes open the doors to a wide, well-lit space with paintings aligned on tall, pitched walls and propped on easels.
“He thought these might be best suited for Gray Hotel,” she says.
“Thank you.” Gemma smiles appreciatively.
Natalie dips her chin. “I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, I’ll be in the sitting room.”
Natalie exits silently and Gemma releases a low whistle, spinning slowly. “Wow, these are amazing.”
“They’re okay,” I say, shrugging.
Gemma stalks toward me slowly, and my gaze drops to the way her hips sway with each step. “Oh, come on, even you have to admit this is impressive.”
When she’s within reach, I loop my arm around her waist and pull her in. She collides with my chest with a light gasp.
Her eyes widen slightly. “What are you doing?” she asks, not pulling away.
I drop my head to her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. I lick a path up the column of her throat, and she shivers against me. My cock stirs in my trousers.
“I don’t like how he was looking at you,” I grind out, the words barely making it past my clenched teeth.
She drives me mad with need.
“And how was that?” she breathes, her hands clenching my shirt.
I brush my lips against the shell of her ear, letting my voice drop to a growl. “Like he wanted to fuck you.”
She trembles in my arms. “And what are you going to do about it?”
I press my cock against her stomach, fusing our hips together and grinding just enough for her to feel how badly I want to be inside her. I bend at the knees, lifting her with one arm and slam her back against one of the walls, rattling the nearby frames.
“Max,” she warns. “There are cameras.”
I follow her gaze to two cameras hidden in the corner of the ceiling. A slow, wide smile stretches across my face when I see the two blinking lights. Watching. Recording.
Perfect.
“Even better,” I murmur. “Let him watch.”
Her breath catches. “You can’t be serious.”
“Then stop me,” I challenge, lifting a brow.
Her chest rises and falls, but she doesn’t move to stop me. I maneuver her weight to keep her steady with one arm while the other slowly begins to trail up the inside of her thigh. She responds immediately, crashing her lips into mine, her spine curving into me as we kiss messily.
Her legs lock around my waist as our tongues slide against each other. I shove her thong to the side to spread her wetness around her slick heat, preparing her.
“So wet,” I groan. “Is this all for me?”
“It’s for Alexander,” she teases with a devilish glint in her eye.
I pause, pulse hammering, then drop my hand from her pussy. She whimpers at the loss of contact, rocking her hips against me for friction—and I slap her pussy, hard and sharp. She gasps, her head tipping back.
“Don’t ever say another man’s name while I’m playing with your cunt.”
“Max,” she moans.
I find the thin strip of fabric between her legs and rip it clean off. Her drenched, ruined thong drops to the hardwood floor just as my fingers stroke through her folds, three times, before pushing inside her. I milk my fingers in and out as she rides my hand, bearing down greedily.
“Look at you. So greedy to fuck my hand. Can’t even wait for my cock,” I tut.
My mouth latches onto the soft skin at her neck, sucking hard enough to ensure I leave a mark. She whimpers and releases breathy pants as I pump my fingers in and out. She’s dripping for me, coating my hand in her juice. Slippery and hot and perfect.
Her nails dig into my shoulders for support as I work my belt open with one hand, shoving my trousers down enough to free my cock.
“Does this pussy want my cock?” I ask against her throat, licking and sucking the spot I’ve just marked.
“Yes.” She draws in a ragged breath.
I line myself up, the tip of my cock teasing her entrance, and I drag it through her slick folds.
“Please,” she begs.
“Please, what?” I ask.
“I need you inside me.”
I glance at the cameras, then back at her.
“Do you want everyone to see what a hungry little slut you are for my cock?”
She nods. Her pupils are blown out, her cheeks flushed the prettiest red, and my heart hammers in my chest at the sight of her, desperate for me.
I slam into her in one deep thrust, burying myself to the hilt. She cries out, clutching onto me.
“That’s it,” I groan. “Take every fucking inch.”
Her pussy clenches around me as I stretch her open and I swear I see stars.
Just like Saturday night, I don’t take my time.
Her chants drip from her lips like thick nectar as I pump my cock inside her.
My balls grow heavy, desperate to come as I watch the camera, hoping Harrington can see me taking what’s mine.
The hand holding her steady against me grips and kneads her soft flesh.
I snake my hand between us, seeking out her hot swollen clit, strumming my thumb over it.
Her moans kick up in volume and I lose myself to oblivion as I piston my hips, rutting into her shamelessly.
“Ah!” she gasps. “S-so good.”
“Feel that?” I groan, and she nods frantically. “That’s the only cock this tight little pussy is going to get. Understand me?”
“Y-yes,” she whimpers. “Only yours.”
My thumb kicks up in speed as her pussy walls begin to flutter, and I can tell she’s getting close.
I use my knees to pin her open as wide as possible.
She’s loving it, arching her back and shifting her hips to take more of me, begging me to go harder and faster.
I meet her, thrust for thrust. I look down at where our bodies join and I know I’m about to lose the battle.
Knowing we’re being watched spurs me on even more.
Her mouth drops open on a low, keening moan. “I’m co—I’m—”
She doesn’t finish her sentence, breaking off as her inner walls ripple around my cock, making her impossibly tight. The dam breaks and I lose it, swelling and spilling and exploding into her as I come.
“That’s it,” I grunt, my voice raw. “Take my cum, sweetheart.”
My lips find hers and I suck her tongue into my mouth. Releasing my hand from her clit, my hand finds her throat, holding her in place as I continue to spill inside her.
Her breathing is ragged against my neck, and she remains still, clinging onto my shoulders, as if she’d float away if she let go.
I don’t move.
I don’t pull out.
I can’t.
The idea of putting distance between us feels inherently wrong. Like if I move, even an inch, we’ll both fall apart.
Gemma blinks up at me, catching her breath. Her eyes are glassy behind her frames, her pupils still eating up the color of her irises. Her glossy lips are parted, and her hair is strewn around her shoulders. There’s no teasing mischief left in her eyes, not anymore.
She’s so breathtaking it hurts.
I drop my forehead to hers, our breaths tangling, like we’re breathing each other in and out.
I don’t want to let you go.
I’m still holding her legs wide and they tremble slightly where they’re wound around my waist.
She glances at the cameras before dipping her face to my neck, nuzzling into me. “Someone saw all of that. It’s still blinking red.”
“I’m assuming so, yes,” I say, keeping my voice even.
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.
“Do you like the idea of someone watching us?” I ask.
She doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
She shifts underneath me, and I gently pull out of her, feeling our cum trickle out of her the moment I pull out.
I set her down gently on the floor, supporting her elbow to ensure she’s stable. She straightens her dress, and I watch in awe as tiny, wet droplets fall to the floor. An animalistic possessiveness claws its way up my spine when I see both of us mixed together, dripping out of her.
Good, now Harrington will know exactly who she belongs to.
The double doors burst open and Natalie rushes through.
“Ms. Clarke, Mr. Browne,” she says, her cheeks flushed. “Did you find any pieces you might like to display? I can start the paperwork.”
Her eyes flick around the room before locking on the slightly crooked frame on the wall behind Gemma—askew from what we just did. She freezes; her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. Like she wants to speak but can’t quite form the words.
I smirk to myself. I wonder if she was watching.
I slip my hands into my trouser pockets, in a far better mood than I was when we first arrived. “We’ll take all of them.”