45. Chapter 45 #2
Maddox leans over the edge of the table beside me while I continue studying the map. Our shoulders brush every few seconds. Neither of us moves away.
“I still think you should let me punch Amaya at least once before this is over,” I mutter.
“You say that like I’d stop you. Although I’d prefer it if you punched Vex first.”
“Oh, he’s getting a kick to the balls. You won’t have to worry about the line of succession with that one.”
He finally laughs, and it lights everything up inside me. It’s probably a good thing that it’s so rare since it turns my knees to jelly every time.
He catches me staring, and something unspoken passes between us.
The corner of his mouth pulls in just slightly before his teeth graze his lower lip, and that’s all it takes.
I reach up and press my palm to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin, and bring my mouth to his.
Then we break apart, and I watch his eyes go dark, and the carefulness dissolves.
We come back together like a collision, his hand finding the back of my neck.
Our mouths clash with a frantic hunger, teeth nipping at lips, tongues sliding against each other as our hands begin to roam.
He breaks the kiss only to lift me, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carries me toward the bed, our lips finding each other again without a second’s pause, desperate and relentless.
My fingers catch the bottom of his shirt and I pull it over his head as he carries me, our lips barely parting long enough to let it pass between us.
“I refuse to be the only one naked this time,” I whisper.
His smile breaks against my mouth. The bed catches us, and my shirt and sports bra come off in one rough pull, my hands already finding his bare chest before we’ve even settled. I need his skin on mine.
I take a moment to let my hands rub over his chest. His tattoos continue over his pecs and down the side of his waist, under his sweatpants. I want to explore every single one with my tongue as he explains what they mean to him.
My fingers brush over hard, jagged ridges; he has more scars than I do, but they’re hidden within the ink.
I fumble with the button of his jeans as his breathing hitches and deepens.
We’ve settled into a slower rhythm now, deliberate, savoring the tension.
He helps me slide his pants and boxers down his hips, the fabric catching briefly at his thighs before pooling at his knees.
When he straightens, his cock stands fully erect—a flushed, thick length partially wrapped in dark, intricate tattoos that seem to pulse with his heartbeat.
Just the sight of it, raw and wanting, makes my mouth go wet with anticipation.
I reach out and wrap my hand around him, feeling his soft skin as expands under my touch. I drag my grip upward slowly, watching the muscle in his throat shift on a silent groan as his chin tips toward the ceiling.
“Baby, I've been dying to taste you again,” he says as he opens his eyes.
He reaches to my hips and flips me abruptly over so I’m on all fours, facing away from him.
The sheets bunch under my palms. He roughly drags my sweatpants and panties down to my knees in one motion, the fabric tightening around my legs, and sits back.
The cool air of the room hits me before his hands do, spreading me wide and holding me open.
My cheeks burn. I can feel how wet I already am, completely exposed to his gaze.
A sound escapes me—something between a gasp and a whimper—as he settles behind me, unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to look.
After what feels like forever, he finally lowers his mouth to devour me.
I suck in a breath at the first slow drag of his tongue.
He finds a rhythm, deep strokes alternating with soft circles from his fingertips against my clit.
The combination makes my whole body shudder.
My hips start moving on their own, grinding back against him as he eats me from behind.
He doesn’t let up. The pressure builds in waves until it crests all at once, and I cum hard all over his face, thighs clamped around his head.
He twists me back over and kisses me, his face still wet. The taste of myself is on his tongue when it meets mine. I pull him in and roll my hips up into him, chasing that edge again.
My fingers wrap around him, guiding him to where I want him.
He hesitates, his gaze heavy on me. “Are you sure?” He asks, voice low. “We can stop. Just say the word.”
“I’ve been ready for this since I walked back into the academy and got the shot,” I tell him, my thumb tracing the length of him. “I’m not stopping now.”
He leans forward until his forehead meets mine, our breaths coming together in the narrow space between us. “Tell me if it hurts or if I need to slow down.” As if I could slow down now.
His forehead presses into mine as he eases forward, slow enough that I feel every inch of him opening me up, a deep stretch that makes me gasp. He goes still when he bottoms out inside me, one hand braced beside my head, watching my face with an intensity that makes my chest ache.
“Please.” My hips shift against him involuntarily. “Maddox.”
He moves. Unhurried at first, each withdrawal and return deliberate.
Then the rhythm builds, and my thoughts dissolve entirely into sensation—the drag and push of him, the wet heat, the way my body keeps tightening around him like it’s trying to keep him there.
His mouth finds the hinge of my jaw, my earlobe, the soft skin just beneath it, his breath ragged and warm against my neck as his fingers press down between us and circle my clit.
“Fuck Arwen, you’re strangling my cock. Cum for me, baby.”
His words, like an order, tip me over completely.
The orgasm crashes through me in long, rolling waves, my whole body seizing around him.
He groans and drives forward once, twice, and then I feel him shudder and go rigid, his release flooding into me, warm and pulsing, drawing out the last tremors of my own.
He stills inside me, our bodies locked together in the aftermath. His lips move from my mouth to my temple, then my cheekbone—soft, lingering presses that trace the sweat-dampened curve of my face. Each kiss feels like quiet promises whispered against my skin.
My body suddenly feels incredibly heavy. Maddox notices as he moves behind me and wraps me up in his arms.
During a yawn, I ask, “Do we need to go back to the map? I can keep going. I like the rewards.”
“I think we’re done for tonight.” He turns me to face him. “Stay with me tonight, trouble,” he whispers.
The comforting warmth of his naked body melts my body. Laying my head on his chest, my eyes drift shut. The steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath my cheek pulls me under almost immediately.
I feel genuinely safe.
The last thing I feel before sleep takes me is Maddox’s fingers brushing through my hair.
And above me, so quiet I almost think I imagined it—
“Universe, I’m completely gone for you, Arwen.”