Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)(124)

“So beautiful, Kitten,” he murmurs against my ear, as his fingers massage my clit over and over, with such unerring accuracy and tenderness that I can’t help but cry out his name and let my hands clench into the hard muscle of his biceps. “Mine,” he growls, and he’s right. I’ve been his from the moment I read his story and saw his picture. It doesn’t make sense, and I’m tired of trying to make it. I may only get weeks with him, but maybe I’ll have more. Whatever I have, I will savor it. Fuck what anyone else thinks.

“Yours,” I agree, my forehead resting on his chest.

“You’re going with me?” He asks, and I think I hear a small thread of surprise in his voice.

“I’m going with you,” I confirm, my heart speeding up in fear. I’m going with him. I can’t not go. Max is what I have been missing my whole life. He brings that feeling of belonging with him that I had never had and always wanted. Maybe soulmates are real? I mean, who really knows. Maybe in the whole world, there is only one person you are meant to be with and when you meet them or even see a picture of them you know it instantly. If that’s true, then I don’t need to defend my actions or explain them. It doesn’t matter to anyone but Max and me. So, f*ck yeah. I’m going with him. I could almost smile at how freeing that becomes.

Max grabs my neck and pulls my face up so he can see me. I don’t bother to hide the small smile on my face. I’m happy. For now, I am happy. I don’t know how long it will last, but hell I could die tomorrow walking out on the street. I’m going to take this time with Max, and...Be happy.

“I’ll call Marcum tomorrow and set things in motion,” he says, his hand clenching and unclenching against the side of my neck.

“Okay, Max.”

“My Tess…” he says, and I think it’s the first time I’ve seen a light in his dark eyes. I put that light there. I put a light in his eyes. Me.

“Always,” I tell him. He growls and takes my mouth hard and when his tongue finishes plundering me, and we break apart; I see yet another side to the tarnished night in my deliciously wicked fairy tale.

He grins, not a big grin; it’s a cocky, whiplash kind of grin that instantly makes my pulse jump and my knees weak. He puts the soap in my hands and leans back on the shower wall. “Wash me,” he orders. My lips spread into a smile. I like this Max. This all-conquering male, in charge and… my heart stalls. Happy? That’s it. He seems, happy. I’ve seen so many sides to Max, but I don’t think I’ve taken the time to realize that I’ve never seen him happy. My heart flutters and flops and starts beating hard in my chest, because that realization feels big.

So I wash my man. It doesn’t matter what he says. He’s mine as much as I am his. He doesn’t have to acknowledge it for me to know it. I take my time, savoring every line, every scar, every beautiful inch of Max, and I commit it to memory. However long I have, I will hold on to every second of every minute of every f*cking hour.

I might have taken extra time gliding the small green bar of soap along the stomach, down his thighs, around his balls and to that hard, jutting, hot cock that stands out so proud from his body; demanding attention. Attention that I wanted to give him. I don’t get the chance to act on my own thoughts though, because Mad Max, the conqueror, takes over. He pushes me down on my knees. His hands, twisting in my hair again. I firmly grasp his cock in my hand, stroking him up and down one slow turn, watching Max’s reaction.

“Suck me, Kitten.”

The nickname he gives me increases my pleasure. Does he know? Could he possibly know how much I’d like him giving me a pet name? How it makes me wet, hearing him call me kitten, in that gravelly voice of his, full of need. I give into his demand and take him into my mouth, letting my tongue bathe him, taste and tease him as I open wider and take him to the back of my throat. My other hand is still holding the soap. I use it to slide firmly down the sides of his legs and the underside of his balls. His moan of approval is all I need to know he loves what I’m doing. I increase the pressure of my lips, sucking him harder, hungry for the taste of him I know is coming. I slide the soap farther back, pushing against the base of his ass, letting the bar divide his cheeks and give him a little something extra. His grip in my hair increases to hard pull, but I don’t stop. His large hand comes to the other side of my face and then he uses this to make sure he has control and he f*cks my mouth. His dick, widening my mouth until it’s all I can do to swallow. Tears sting my eyes as he stretches my throat, and still I give him more, giving him what he needs, tightening my throat against his cock and swallowing him. The soap falls to the tub, the clang barely heard over the pounding of my heart and Max’s ragged breathing. My fingers tighten into his ass cheeks as I brace myself while he f*cks my mouth harder and harder. His balls are tight, pushing repeatedly against my chin, and I know he’s close. He’s going to give it to me, and I’m anticipating it. Until, he pulls out of my mouth. I cry out in disappointment. I worked for it. I deserve the taste of him, the feel of him sliding down inside. I don’t have time to complain, however. I can only watch, hypnotized as he jerks his cock hard. His big hand, moving up and down the head of his cock, covered in pearl liquid, barely seen, and then disappearing as he strokes himself and then…he explodes. Streams of cum shoot out landing on my face, my breasts, painting me, in him. Scalding me, marking me in a way that I know is permanent and when he cries out my name and those beautiful dark eyes close in pleasure. I welcome it.