Chapter Thirty-Two #2
I shake my head, a wave of misery tightening my muscles.
“No. He used a knife handle to break my hymen but didn’t want to fuck me until marriage—and after I killed several of his men who tried to rape me, he had them stop, as well.
It was a game to him at first, I think. How far would I go to protect my virtue?
He’d tell his guys to try—at first, I barely fought them off…
and then I got very good at protecting myself.
He didn’t want to lose the manpower anymore, so he stopped them.
Some still tried.” I pause. “They’re extremely dead now. ”
Max pauses as he digests this information, one morsel at a time. His grip on me loosens.
“That’s over,” he finally says. “Everything that’s happened is in the past. You’re mine now.
This body? Mine. This pussy?” he squeezes me again, and a moan gets caught in my throat.
“Mine.” His hand lodges beneath me, sliding under my ribcage until it’s resting over my heart.
“And this is soon to be mine, too. Brace yourself, Flame.”
I shut my eyes tight, trying to sort through the countless sensations he’s inspiring. Tension. Need. Blazing lust, so intense and all-encompassing it threatens to swallow me whole. Gratitude. And I think, maybe, even the seeds of affection.
“I need to look in your eyes for this,” he says, and then I’m once again on my back, gazing up at him. He stares down at me, ownership stamped into every gorgeous line of his face, and swallows thickly. He’s beautiful. He’s magnificent. He… saved me, and to top it off, he earned me.
I arch my back, presenting myself to him.
A sly grin overtakes his features, and he watches me with deepening interest and need.
His hands, still slick with my wetness, cup my breasts.
His fingers circle my areolas—so gently it makes me shiver with need, and that’s when a devious smirk slants his lips.
He reaches down, scoops wetness from my slit, and paints my nipple with it. Then, he lowers his head and sucks it off, all while holding my gaze.
I nearly come on the spot.
“Max,” I gasp. “Fuck—Max—Sir, please!”
“Patience,” he chides, eyes dancing with laughter. He works his way down my body, licking and nipping my skin as he goes, marking me as his.
And I am his. He earned me fair and square, and in this moment, I feel no urge to fight him or run away. I almost want to be his.
Three fingers circle my clit, slowly, and deliberately. He watches every shiver that courses through me, every twitch that ripples my skin, and smiles with amusement. “You’re a good girl at heart, you know that?”
His hand pulls away—I barely have a chance to part my lips in protest before it comes down on my pussy with a sharp crack. A cry is torn out of me as a delicious stinging pain ignites, setting me on fire.
He slaps me two more times. I wiggle furiously on the bed; then, he returns to rubbing my clit. He rubs me until I’m on the very cusp of an orgasm, then spanks my pussy again, this time five times in a row.
“Max, please!”
“Not yet. I want to watch you suffer a little longer, baby.” And so, the torment continues. He builds me up with his talented fingers, then spanks me until my orgasm dies.
Over, and over, and over again, until I’m on the verge of crying with desperation.
Only when I’m an incoherent puddle of need does he rise up over me.
He’s everywhere, all around me. He’s like a storm, magnificent, terrifying, deadly, impossible to look away from.
I can’t get enough of him. I’ll never get enough of him.
“Such a gorgeous fucking girl, aren’t you?
” he coos. He shucks his pants and boxers, and my eyes widen when they land on his cock.
He’s huge—as big as I suspected that night when he first grabbed me, after he’d saved me from being hit by a drunk driver.
A thick vein pulses on the underside of his cock, impossibly imposing, and true trepidation courses through me.
“Wait!” I cry when he nudges his swollen, dripping head into my entrance. He freezes, arching a questioning eyebrow at me. “It—it won’t fit.”
He blinks. Then, his lips split into a wide grin, and the asshole begins to laugh.
“Christ, Flame. Sometimes, your sharp tongue nearly destroys me; others, you’re amazing for my ego.
” He shakes his head with amusement. “C’mere.
” He pins my legs to the bed. I try to scramble up, pure, animal instinct driving me away from this predator who’s about to split me in two with his monster cock, but I can barely move an inch.
His head lodges in my entrance. He’s barely inside me—hardly even a centimeter in, but it’s enough to make the pain start. I might not have a maidenhood for him to break through, but the resistance is still impossibly harsh. He’s too big; we’re not anatomically compatible.
“Hey, look at me,” he says when I squeeze my eyes closed. “Look at me,” he repeats, harsher when I refuse to obey.
They flash open, compelled by his command.
“It’s just you and me,” he says slowly. “I’m not going to make this hurt any more than it has to. You’re dripping, Flame. I promise you’re ready for me. Do you trust me?”
My lips part, shut, then part again. Finally, I manage to say, “I don’t know.”
“Trust me,” he says, and then he starts to push.
Panic lights a fuse deep inside me. It’s impossible to escape him—he’s everywhere all at once. I can’t move. I can’t stop him. I’m not sure I want to stop him, but God, this is making me freak out.
The promise I’m breaking to Dagon dawns on me. He no longer has Alina to hold over me, but I’m sure he’ll come after her with a hellish fury if he learns about what’s happening right now. And if he ever got his hands on me… I don’t know what I’d do.
“Ember. It’s just you and me.”
Then, Max leans down over me, and presses his lips to mine. The world drops out from beneath me. Reality ceases to exist. The moment his lips come into contact with mine, something fundamental slams into me, like a revelation. My vision fades.
His tongue probes at my lips, and that’s when a basic recognition dawns on me. I’ve tasted these lips before. They’re familiar, and they’re comforting. I know his kiss, even though I’m experiencing it for the first time.
Warmth fills me, chasing away the fear and the pain.
I lift my head and meet his tongue with my own.
I don’t know how to kiss—I’m sure I’m sloppy, and that my technique is shit, but Max doesn’t seem to mind.
In fact, my response invigorates him. He drives deeper inside of me, nipping my lower lip, groaning into my mouth.
I feel like I’m being reborn. Pain prickles at my temples, but it’s a new sort of pain, not the migraines I’m used to. This pain comes from the most basic, physical form of recognition and a wash of foreign yet familiar comfort.
I wrap one leg around Max’s waist, then the other. I’m not sure what’s happening to me—to us, but no matter how much his intrusion hurts, it also undeniably feels right.
“Fuuuuck,” Max grunts against my lips. He wraps his hand around my neck, slides it up to my chin, and angles his head so he can kiss me deeper while he sinks even farther inside of me.
My God, it hurts, but the pain is invigorating, like a shot of electricity going straight to my veins. I can’t get enough of it.
After what feels like an eternity, our hips connect. I feel like I’m impaled on ten feet of his cock, I’m pretty sure he’s about to puncture my lung, but I don’t ask him to stop. Instead, I viciously bite his bottom lip. “Fuck me, Maximus.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He snaps his hips back and surges forward in one swift, brutal thrust, shocking a cry of exquisite agony from my chest. All of my nerve endings go up in flames, I feel more alive than I can ever remember being.
“God fucking damnit,” Max growls. “Two thrusts and I’m already hooked.
” He lowers his head, teeth latching onto my neck and biting hard while he sets a swift, shocking pace inside of me.
Each of his movements forward fill me to the brim, and each withdrawal drags against my nerve endings, making me cry out for more.
“Let me touch you,” I gasp. “Please.”
Wordlessly, Max releases my neck, reaches over my head, and detaches my hands from the headboard—though he doesn’t untie them. Good enough. I wind them around his neck and hold on for dear life while he fucks in and out of me like a madman, like he’ll die if he doesn’t destroy my pussy.
“Shit,” he breathes. “I can’t—goddamn—last!”
His fingers slot between our sweaty bodies and glide over my clit. I’m already hanging on the cusp of an orgasm, but the added stimulation sends a burst of panic up my spine. The release that comes hurtling at me with stunning speed feels so big, so consuming, I’m afraid of it.
“Wait—”
“Come,” he cuts me off, pinching my clit and rolling it between his fingers.
I’m—
On—
Fire.
My convulsions are full-body. The orgasm that consumes me wracks me from head to toe, setting off a violent round of shaking, and my pussy convulses so hard it stings.
Max groans deeply into my neck, bites into my collarbone, and stills.
I feel him twitching inside of me, followed by a rush of warmth.
He pulls back, eyes half-lidded, a lazy expression of satisfaction settling over his features. He presses kisses to my nose, my lips, my chin and my cheeks. “Worth every fucking second of the wait, Ember.”
Max slips out of me, unties me, and takes me to the master bedroom. There, he sits me on the bathroom counter and cleans me up with a warm washcloth, carrying me back to bed.
“I’m gonna pass out,” he mumbles, sounding as exhausted as I feel. “In the morning, if you manage to keep my cum inside you, I’ll eat it out.”